A/N: disclaimer, I own nothing… / thank you so much to everyone who reviewed or favorite, glad to see some people like it ^^ I'll try my best to be better with updates, it's just, well, to be honest, I've been working on an original story and that's been taking up quite a load of time… anyway, enjoy this ^^ also, I don't have a beta, so this is all uncensored, unfixed, and highly imperfect… still, worth a read I hope.
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The night ended much like all the previous Thursday nights so far that year. When the pints –for the Godric Boys- the whiskeys –for the Salazar Boys- and the fruity drinks -for the crowds of giggling students- had made everyone a little unsteady on their feet and much louder than necessary, the party had been moved to another pub for a round of shots. And then on to the next bar. And so forth, until only a few remained, dancing unabashedly to the music in one of the town's clubs. Well, dancing was a little too kind to describe the unfiltered movements of the drunken twenty year olds. Harry was a classic example of what a tapeworm would look like if it had a seizure in a room lit by strobe lights. And that was being overly complimentary once more. Cheeks flushed, hair tousled, all the students present had that same glazed look in their eyes as they downed more drinks and swayed as an overly sweaty and stumbling mass. Certain lines had however not been crossed. Not yet anyway. The rivaling frat houses had not deemed necessary to associate with one another in the least bit that night, and had avoided contact even more so than usual. It hadn't actually been that hard, considering the Salazar trio never accompanied the hordes into the nightclubs. Most likely the place was not sanitized enough for their taste.
In the wee hours of the morning, just as light began to illuminate the sky, forming a brand new day, the crowd in the club began to thin, students heading home, or walking off hand in hand with someone else, to continue the party a little more privately.
Harry had an arm around Neville's waist, supporting the other boy's slumped weight. They had lost Dean and Seamus much earlier, and Harry hoped they had a good explanation for letting him drag his drunken friend back to his flat by himself. He didn't even have his keys. Drat.
Ron suddenly appeared from a side door of the club, partly tripping over his own feet before catching his balance and looking around, a clearly confused expression on his face and two fingers on his lips. He spotted Harry and rushed over to help his mate, grimacing as he saw Harry's reproachful scowl. He silently fell into step, helping Harry lug a moaning Neville. "Not time for bed yet…" the brown-haired boy was muttering. The shuffling trio, all unsure on their feet –although some worse off than others- made their way through the deserted streets, occasionally shivering when the cold wind bit at their sleeveless arms. They arrived at the residence building where both Neville and Ron stayed. The two did not share a room, but they happened to be on the same floor, and both disliked their respective roommates with a burning passion.
"Don't have my keys…" Harry managed to mumble out, before dropping onto an armchair and curling up in a ball. Neville had been deposited in his own room, a glass of water on his night table. Ron barely even nodded in response, snoring before he hit the mattress, his arms stretched out in a cross. Not that Harry would have heard anyway, his head had lolled over to the side, his mouth hanging partly open.
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Harry's mouth felt like sandpaper and he was certain there was a miniature heavy metal band practicing their new scream song in his head. He had woken up not long ago with a terrible kink in his neck from his ill-advised sleeping position and had not yet managed to get rid of it. After realizing it was Friday and he had an Ethics class before 12, he had unwillingly trudged all the way back to the outskirts of town –a half hour walk away. Only upon arrival did he remember he had forgotten his keys the night before. He knocked on the door for what felt like ages, not helping the pounding in his own mind, before his barely awake godfather had opened the door.
"Rough night, cub?" Sirius Black asked, stifling a yawn and pushing straight black hair out of his eyes. "Uhn." Harry replied, entering the flat and heading straight for the shower. He divested himself of all clothing, and stood under the steaming water, mind blank, until Sirius' voice reminded him of the time. "I'm leaving now! I left a note from Remus in the coffee tin! Bye! Take it easy cub!"
Harry turned off the water and sighed, wrapping a towel around his hips before stepping out of the bathroom and into the hallway just in time to see Sirius' retreating figure. "Bye!" he called out, just in time before the front door slammed shut. His godfather dropped in once every few weeks to stay for a weekend or a few days. He lived in London, with his high school sweetheart, but didn't mind the drive necessary to check up on his favorite –and only- godson. Vice-versa, Harry also often rode out to London during long school breaks, just to spend some time with Sirius and Remus. He got along marvelously with the two of them, and although they tended to forget they were now adults when they were around him, Harry loved them with all his heart. The fact that they had been so close to his parents only made them more like real family to him.
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Harry let out a loud breath as he plopped down into his seat. He closed his eyes for an instant before placing his motorcycle helmet on the floor in front of him and taking a notepad out of his army green satchel. "Thanks for saving me a seat 'Mione." He whispered in the ear of the brown-haired girl sitting next to him. The girl didn't respond, absorbed by what the professor was saying at the moment. "You're ten minutes late." She finally replied in a hushed reprimanding tone, handing him a pencil she knew he had forgotten to bring. "Ah thanks." "Don't mention it. Pay attention a little, will you?" The girl turned hazelnut eyes to glance up and down at her friend, "Someone had a good night last night." She teased, taking in Harry's hungover face. "Uhn. Was alright. Normal Thursday night." He shrugged innocently. He was lying completely. It had been a normal Thursday night. For everyone else. But they both knew that although Harry was no tank, he was no lightweight either. And something must have been bothering him for him to drink so much that he had woken with an elephant dancing in his head.
Hermione sighed, reaching her left hand into her pocket and pulling out a small packet of aspirine while her right hand continued its neat scribbling on her paper. "Take two. Or three." She ordered, dropping the tablets into Harry's lap. The green-eyed boy obeyed gladly, gulping the white pills dry and attempting to concentrate on the man at the podium.
Luckily enough for Harry, this class was the only one he had on Fridays. Not only that but his headache had dissipated and he no longer felt sick. Unluckily for him, this lecture was three hours long, and now that his stomach was no longer upset, he dreamt of fresh coffee and buttered bagels.
After three power naps, fifteen snores, twenty sudden movements as he regained reality and about hundred elbow jabs from Hermione, the lecture was finally over. Harry rubbed at his bruised ribs, grimacing lightly and pretending to thump Hermione over the head with his helmet.
"So, are we still on for gummy bears?" The ebony-haired boy asked the smiling girl at his side as they exited the lecture hall and headed towards his bike. The two had been excellent friends from the start of the term, reuniting like lost-long siblings. They already knew each other inside out and had private jokes and traditions. Every Friday afternoon, they would stop for candy and energy drinks at a convenience store, before driving out to Harry's apartment to watch an old movie, and then drive back to Hermione's place to get ready for a night out, or stay in and study.
"Actually," the shorter girl said with a small grimace, "I was rather hoping you could give me a ride straight to my house tonight. I promised a friend I'd help her out…" she explained. "You're more than welcome to stay though, we might need your fashion expertise…" she joked, knowing full well that Harry's attire rarely consisted of anything fancier than worn jeans and faded t-shirts. "And we can rent a movie after, I don't feel like doing homework today…" she added with a small pout.
Harry sighed, pretending to be upset for a second before grinning and shaking his head, "If you throw popcorn into the deal, I might be tempted to grace you with my presence…" he said, snorting out a repressed laugh.
The curly-haired girl rolled her eyes, smacking Harry's shoulder with her binder, "Yes, whatever you want your Highness…" she answered.
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It didn't take very long for the two friends to reach Hermione's house. It was old, and looked broken and spooky from the outside, but everything was fully functional, and the inside was actually quite cozy. Harry loved the placed. Despite being a student resident, he thought it was one of the homeliest places he had ever visited. He also simply adored Hermione's roommates. He got along with the two other girls splendidly, and they had also taken quite a liking to him. There was Luna, pale and blonde, who moved around in the most ethereal of ways, always wide-eyed and smiling beatifically. Harry had half a mind to introduce her to Neville, but the poor bloke was much too frightened at the prospect of a blind-date. The third girl to share the two story house was Pansy, a black-haired vixen, with a sharp tongue and a sharper mind. Harry had been frightened of her at first, as she had been quite cold to him. She had instantly warmed up when she had realized that Harry was just a friend of Hermione's, with no ill attention towards the bookish girl. As he discovered, Pansy was only fiercely protective of her friends, and she had been 'testing' Harry. The two had a Politics class together, and now spent it sitting together at the back, making wry and witty remarks about their snooty professor.
"You should have told me it was because Pansy had a date…" Harry grumbled, locking his motorcycle in the driveway of the tipsy-topsy house.
"Jealous?" Hermione asked, leading the way up the creaky steps and through the tilted doorway. Harry only grunted in reply. Of course he wasn't jealous, but he happened to be just as loyal as Pansy was, and he wanted to know more about this potential date.
"Look who I brought!" Hermione cried out, slamming the door shut and throwing her cardigan and school bag onto a nearby chair.
"Hullo Harry,"
A dreamy voice greeted him as he kicked out of his red converses and shrugged off his worn leather jacket. It was a bit warm for the fall air, but Harry loved it too much, and had pulled it back out of his closet as early as possible.
"Hey Luna," the green-eyed boy nodded back, waving a hand in casual greeting.
"Get your flamboyant ass up here Potter!" a voice called down from the top of the stairs, "I need an honest male opinion, flaming queen or not!"
"Pansy!" Hermione shrieked, already offended on Harry's behalf. Harry didn't seem bothered in the least as he traipsed his way to the second floor. Pansy never minced her words, but she also wasn't one to judge. She called Harry a queen in the same way she would have said his ass looked particularly delicious in those jeans.
Hermione quickly followed behind her best male friend, Luna soon behind her, a bowl of cookie batter in her arms. The three inhabitants of the little house (plus their favorite guest) found themselves dispersed in Pansy's room, watching her frantically toss clothes around as they attempted to vote on a best outfit for her mystery date.
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Hermione was settled on the swiveling desk chair, rolled up in a ball and occasionally giving the wall a sharp push so that she rotated around.
Luna sat cross-legged on Pansy's large bed, not far from Harry, lying down on his back, his head hanging from the edge, eyebrows furrowing as Pansy disappeared into the closet once more to grab another garment. His hand absent-mindedly reached into the bowl of batter to take a scoop, bringing sticky fingers to his mouth.
Hermione's head turned sharply towards the door of the bedroom, which stood ajar. "Did you hear that?" she asked, "Is someone ringing the doorbell?"
If someone had indeed been ringing the doorbell, they didn't wait long for an answer. Whoever it was had simply opened the unlocked front door, judging by the tell tale creaking.
A call of "Honey, I'm home!" and one of "Darling, are you cheating on me?" rang out, both spoken jovially and by two different but distinctly male voices.
All four occupants of Pansy's room halted their movements immediately, before three pairs of eyes turned towards mentioned owner of the room.
"Shit."
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A/N: oh me oh my, what comes next? Reviews, critics, comments and suggestions much appreciated please ^^
Also, I actually have the next chapter almost done, so this time, no waiting around for ages .