Hey, everyone. Happy Valentine's Day!

I must apologise for being gone for so long, but I have a week off school to make it up to you! I have battled colds, migraines and strenuous torture (AKA Maths homework) to bring this to you, so I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 9

Golf, Stella and Holes Full of Sand

"Come on, lads," Mike whispered urgently, "keep going, or it'll be dawn by the time we get in!"

"We're coming, alright? Keep your hair on," Darren finished his can of lager and chucked it mindlessly into the brush behind him, "Arthur, give me a leg up, would you?"

Arthur knelt and did as he asked, helping his friend over the fence, "What are we doing here again?"

"Are you that drunk that you don't remember?" Mike laughed. He, too, finished his can, crushed it against his head and threw it drunkenly at the fence, so it made a loud clanging noise.

"We're here to have some fun," Darren jumped down, his feet thudding on the ground, "can you make it over by yourself?"

"I think so, hold on a minute..." Arthur picked up the box of Stella Artois and passed it over to his friends. This was such a good idea! Start chatting with random strangers, who take you out drinking, then take you to a golf course and tell you that you're breaking in with them. What a laugh!

Arthur climbed the fence – with a little help from both magic and Darren pulling him over the other side - and he landed flat out on his face in the mud. Darren burst out laughing, but pulled him to his feet. Mike was already making his way into the darkness, his path lit only by the small torch he'd had stashed in his pocket.

"Mike, wait up!" his friends called, running to catch up.

They followed him carefully across to a shed, away from the lights of the larger building nearby. It was locked tight, a padlock and chain round the door.

Darren handed Arthur another lager, took one himself and set the box on the grass. From the bag on his back, he pulled out a crowbar and set to work on the padlock .

"I came prepared for this..." he chuckled. To himself. Mike was busy drinking and Arthur was throwing up in a ditch full of sand. It was strange, he thought to himself, why would Muggles want a ditch full of sand in their garden? Were they transforming it into their own private beach?

A loud clunk informed everyone that Darren had broken through. He ushered them inside.

The contents of the shed astounded Arthur. They looked just like Muggle cars, but with most of it missing. He took another gulp from his can of lager.

"What's this?" he slurred slightly, pointing at the vehicle.

"This," Darren informed him, giving him a hearty slap on the shoulder, "is our fun."

He pushed Arthur into the seat and Mike offered him a penknife.

"This is how you start it," Mike pointed at the knife.

"With a knife?" Arthur was both amazed and confused, "I thought knives were to cut things...wow...this is fun..."

"You put it..." Darren pointed inside the vehicle, "in there, where the key normally goes."

Arthur stuck out the knife, stabbing until it slotted into the keyhole. He turned it, the engine rumbling. He turned it again, until it roared into life.

Arthur Weasley had driven a car before, but he had never done it with enough alcohol in his body to kill an elephant. This had now changed.

He put his foot on something that felt like the accelerator and was blasted backwards when he floored it. Mike and Darren guffawed, taking out their phones and setting them to video record.

Dizzy, but still drunk enough not to care, Arthur put his foot on the right pedal and zoomed off into the night, laughing loudly.

His friends ran after him, torches focused on the small golf cart gradually fading into the distance, phones held high, recording everything.

Arthur paid no attention to his friends, who were in hysterics, the bumps in the ground slowing him down, nor the shouts of the people hosting a dinner at the country club he had broken into and stolen from, screaming for him to stop.

He drove through the gates and onto the road, swerving to avoid cars. The drivers were more than a bit annoyed about this and showed their displeasure, in oh so many hand gestures.

Arthur drove well into the dawn, laughing that nobody had caught him.

The minute he thought that, he heard a siren behind him. He pulled over, not exactly stopping, more like crashing into the barrier at the side of the road. It stopped the cart, whatever he did.

A tall policeman wandered over, clutching a small box with a straw sticking out of it.

"Good morning sir."

"It's morning?" Arthur looked around, a look of horror on his face. Sure enough, the sky was blue, tinted with orange on the horizon. Cars were making their way carefully around, some going at a snail's pace because they were heading for work, but a drunk driver was much more interesting.

"Yes, sir, it is morning," the policeman held out the box, the straw pointed towards Arthur, "would you mind blowing into this for me?"

Arthur obeyed, the box making a little whirring noise as he did. The policeman's eyes widened as he watched the dial on it. He took the box away.

"Right, would you mind stepping this way, sir? You need to accompany me back to the police station."

"Really? Alright, then..." Arthur stepped out, swaying violently, "you know...I went to the oddest garden last night...there were holes...holes everywhere in the grass...there...they'd filled them, not all the way, but filled them...sand."

The policeman opened the car door for him, "Sand, of course."

Arthur fell into the back seat, grinning inanely at the policeman.

"Sir, I'm arresting you on charges of drunk driving," he said, "is that clear?"

Arthur gave him a salute, "Whatever you say, Admiral."

The policeman rolled his eyes and shut the door. Arthur sat in the back of the car, smiling as it drove away.

He wondered what Molly would say when he told her about the holes full of sand.