December! I couldn't help but post this a few days early!


Morning came with a roaring headache, and Harry groaned, pressing his face into his pillow.

"Somebody's awake." Came the amused whisper, and someone laid a hand on his shoulder. "Here, this'll help." A vial was placed into the hand not tucked under his pillow. He sat up, blindly tossing it back, grimacing at the taste. It quickly tore into the pain behind his eyes, and he opened them, glancing at the world blearily. "Ugh." Bill laughed.

"You're handling it better than me; I chucked the first time Bess gave me one of her hangover cures. It's an acquired taste."

"How can anyone 'acquire' a taste for that?" He asked, reaching for his glasses as Bill returned to his bunk.

"Not quite sure, but it happens. C'mon, you might be able to catch the last of breakfast if you get up now." He scrounged his clothes together and shrugged into them, he'd taken a step out of the tent when Bill pulled him back in.

"Your shirt is inside out, mate. And backwards, I think."

"Aw, who cares at this point?" He fixed his shirt anyways, rushing out.


"Well if it ain't mister teddy bear!" Bess called, grinning as he stepped in.

"Excuse me?" Bewilderment colored his voice, and Bill grinned.

"Aw, let it go Bess, he probably doesn't remember. We were all pretty shit faced."

"But it was the cutest! Harry, clinging to you like a koala!" She laughed. "You gave the most heartbreaking frown when he laid you in bed you know." She directed the last part at Harry, who's face began to burn. Bill hooked an arm around his shoulder.

"Leave him be, look at him. Poor thing." He ruffled Harry's hair and ducked away from the half hearted swing Harry sent in retaliation, laughing. The sight struck Harry for the rest of the day, and he found himself grinning anytime he remembered it, despite flame and acid sent his way by several new traps.


It didn't take long for the two of them to fall into a tandem, pulling each other out of the way of triggered traps and tossing and catching tools with little more than glances in the other's direction.

Bess and Vi seemed determined to shove the two together, although Harry couldn't fathom why. When he asked, all he got was a sly grin and "You two haven't gotten hurt once in quite a while, that's all." He knew there was more to it than just that, but he put it to the side, in favor of the work in front of him.

When Party Night came round again, he tried begging off. "I don't dance, and that's the whole point of going, isn't it?"

"Aww, c'mon, pleeeease? Didn't you enjoy last time?" Bess begged dramatically, on her knees and everything.

"I suppose..." He mumbled. "Bess, just get up, please."

"What, you didn't enjoy my company? I'm hurt, Harry. How ever will I recover, forced to drink at the bar alone?" Bill teased, and Harry burned red.

"Fine, fine. Let's just go." The girls cheered, and Bill laughed as they piled into the cars again.


This time Bill joined him at the bar immediately. They had to lean in close to talk, the music too loud for normal social niceties.

"So how are you enjoying all this? Want to head back to England yet?"

"No, it's great here. No press, no pressure." He grinned.

"You're only using us to get away from the press? Harry, you say such hurtful things!" Bill's grin negated the hand to his heart, which Harry grabbed, laughing.

"No, no, I like you guys too! Stop being so dramatic, you're worse than Ron." He downed his drink, their clasped hands falling to the space between them, forgotten. "I genuinely like it here, y'know."

"Good, I don't know what we'd do without you if you left." Bill gave a sheepish smile, and the music's heavy drum shook his chest enough that his breath caught.

"Yeah, what would you do without me? You'd flounder uselessly, clearly. Oh, I almost forgot, Ron and the others say hi, by the way. Hermione wants a copy of your findings once you have them all typed up."

"Of course she does." Bill laughed, shaking his head. "I keep forgetting to write them. I mean to, but..."

"You're always so tired at the end of the day, right?" He'd noticed the way Bill seemed to almost drop into bed most nights, at if it took the last of his energy to do so.

"You noticed?" Bill's ears turned red, and Harry grinned, reminded of Ron.

"Hard not to, you work yourself to the bone all the time."

"So do you, Harry." Bill smirked. "Don't think I didn't see you trip into bed last week."

"Yeah, but I'm ten years younger than you." He resisted the urge to stick his tongue out, instead finishing what was probably his fifth drink. He'd lost count. "Doesn't feel like it though." He relented.

"I hear you. Only ever getting older and all that."

"You ever look at the kids and wonder when the hell you grew up?" Harry gestured towards the dancing crowd.

"Like one day you were one of them, the next you had all these things to worry about?"

"Yeah. I mean, we must have worried about other things, back then. But I can't remember for the life of me."

"Remember when the worst we had to worry about was passing a class?" Bill huffed, grinning wryly. "Those were the days."

"And all we ever wanted was to grow up, yeah. What idiots." Harry received an elbow to his side, and he laughed.

"Hey now, like you were any better."

"I said we, didn't I? I included myself!"

"Let's be kids again then. C'mon!" Bill stood, pulling Harry towards the dancefloor. Harry protested half heartedly, but followed anyways.


As he glanced at the paper on Bess' bunk the next morning, he paled. The press had found him. Had found him and Bill, as their front page declared.

Bachelor-Who-Lived Finds Love?
Rita Skeeter

Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter himself, was spotted in a muggle bar in Egypt, entertaining the close company of one William Weasley, the eldest brother of Potter's school-flame, Ginevra Weasley. Two months away from the public eye seems to have done Potter well, as the two have been seen in each other's company nearly constantly, as pictured below. Close friends and family both have refused to comment, so one can only speculate upon this torrid romance. -

Harry threw it down on the bed, groaning in frustration. The pictures were damning. One of him in Bill's arms by the bar, from the first night he figured. The rest seemed to be taken between then and last night, of their work in the dig. Except, how could she have gotten them? Who had even taken them? The grand finale, so to speak, were definitely from last night, the two of them leaning close, smiling, hands clasped- why hadn't he let go? Another of them dancing, him on Bill's feet in a way that would have been adorably darling if it were any other person, Bill spinning them with an expression that Harry couldn't identify, and hadn't noticed then. The others would stare, he was sure. He wasn't sure he was up to facing them, now, but he had to.

He was right. They did stare. But rather than mockery, like he'd expected, it was in sympathy.

"Don't worry about that Skeeter bitch, even I know she ain't shit and I'm not even from England." Bess bumped his shoulder with hers, giving him a smile.

"I suppose." He shrugged. "We've got work to do though, we can talk shit later, yeah?"

"Yeah!" She clapped him on the back, turning to her work, and he sighed, dreading facing Bill. Today would be long.