Yes, I am aware that it has been about 6 weeks to write this one tiny chapter. I'm very sorry, and its not because I'm to busy or anything. Basically it's because I'm making this up as I go along, and I don't really know what is going on between now and when I finish. I still don't know. For this reason updates won't be as frequent as I like (though heaven forbid there should be another 6 week wait)
I also can't say how long this will be, it really depends how many ideas come into my head (if any)
Thanks for your patience.
Approximately two hours later, at half past twelve, Ron was just finishing an early lunch, Whilst Harry sat with his head hung back, in a drunken stupor.
"Wow that must be bad." He thought to himself as he took a mouthful of a steak and ale pie. "Harry hardly ever gets drunk." In all their years of friendship he had only ever seen Harry drunk half a dozen times and five of those were when rejoicing. The only other time Ron had seen Harry drunk, and not happy, was after Voldemort's defeat.
Ron did however suspect Harry had done the whole drunk festering routine in the privacy of his apartment in Sydney, shortly after leaving Hermione.
"Sure I can't interest you in some food?" Ron asked as Harry stared at him vacantly. "It might sober you up a bit. It's not good to drink on an empty stomach."
"What, and risk ruining the temporary bliss?" He asked with only mildly slurred words. "No thanks. All I need right now is a couple of shots, and then everything really will be dandy."
"Harry if you drink much more you will pass out." Ron said as he looked at Harry sympathetically.
"Precisely!" He said, before falling forwards and snoring.
"Oh come on then. Lets get you home." Ron said as he tried to nudge Harry awake to no success. Instead he drew Harry up under one arm, and dragged him out, back to their car.
Harry didn't awake for some time. He was having rather vivid dreams, though he couldn't say what it was really about. He remembered colours. There was a perfect greyness, unblemished, and smooth and it made him feel at peace, with himself, and with the world. Then something changed… There were more colours, dirty colours, which disgusted him in his sleep. They eventually faded, and the calm returned, only for the process to begin over and over. He woke up to a crack of thunder outside.
It took him several seconds to make up the time in his mind. He wasn't where he had been. As he looked round now he recognised that he was in Fred and George's old room. He had been tucked in bed, and had a damp flannel over his head. It probably contained something more than water, which misses Weasley claimed would cure a hang over. In Harry's opinion it merely served to give the room a bad smell.
It was dark outside now, which meant it was probably dinner time, or there abouts.
He tried calling, but his throat was dry from some sort of spirit. He glanced around, and after pulling himself up and putting his glasses on he spotted a glass of water that had been put on the bedside table. Misses Weasley was rather thoughtful at times.
He climbed out of bed unsteadily, but after taking a few steps found he was more stable on his feet than he would have thought. Rain pounded against the thin glass of the window, and Harry shuddered despite the warmth of the room. It wasn't a good night to be outside.
"Oh I see you're up." Arthur said from the living room as he finished the crossword he had been doing. He had just returned from work.
"It would seem so." Harry said as he looked round for Ron.
"Got a bit carried away with the fire whisky did you?" He asked with a smile. "I remember when I was your age…" He began before Harry cut him off.
"Have you seen Ron?" He didn't need another one of Arthur's childhood stories.
"Er yes certainly he is in the kitchen."
Harry walked into the kitchen to find Molly and Ron readying dinner. Molly was cooking it whilst Ron was supervising that none of it burnt. Something she was quite capable of doing without his assistance.
"Good afternoon Harry." Misses Weasley said as she took some cutlery out of the draw. "How is your head? If it hurts I have something which will clear it right up." She said. "Still you should know better than to drink too much. Honestly Harry you do know its not good for you." She said as she mothered him.
He was tempted to have a bit of a shout at her. When his life was how it was (a mess) drinking too much was a far more inclining idea than sitting round sulking. At least beer made sulking fun.
"Ron would you mind going and setting the table?" she asked him as she handed him some cutlery and placemats without waiting for a reply. "Now Harry you know your welcome to stay as long as you like. If there is one thing we have in this house it is space."
"Yes thank you Molly." He responded with a small smile. I may take you up on that offer, if it won't inconvenience you."
"Oh you know it won't." she said as she shook her head. "I'm sure Ron will enjoy it, save him driving round in that death trap of a car. Also it will give Ginny someone to talk to. Dinner is just about ready so if you would like to go and sit down I will bring everything through."
Harry offered to help her, but she was rather adamant that she could manage on her own. Harry personally suspected she was afraid he was still a little drunk, and would drop something. He took a seat one side of the table. Ginny say next to him, whilst Arthur and Molly sat at opposite ends and Ron sat opposite Harry. There was an empty place set next to Ron as though they were expecting another visitor. This wasn't actually the case but Molly's cooking was so liked that old members of the order often found themselves stopping by.
Dinner was as delicious as ever, though at times things did seem a little awkward. They tried to discuss things besides the wedding, as Ron seemed to have mentioned something along the lines of Harry not particularly liking Hermione's fiancé. This was fully understandable, given his sudden departure. She was as tactful as possible, yet it was unavoidable that at some point the subject of the wedding would come up.
"How long are you planning on staying?" Ginny asked.
"Er, about a week." He responded, not wanting to state that in a weeks time the wedding would be over, and he could get back on with his life.
After dinner Harry helped clean and dry the dishes, despite Molly's protests that she could do fine with magic. Harry had several long years of experience cleaning up after the Dursely's, so he could give any charm a run for its money.
"What would you like for desert?" Arthur asked as him and Ron surveyed various objects of cakey goodness."
"Mmm if you don't mind I don't think I will have anything at the moment. Im a bit full up at the moment."
"Suit yourself." Ron said as he cut a large cake in half and put one piece on his plate before offering the remaining half to his father, who after glancing down at his t shirt which was a little tight in the middle, gave a sad shake of his head and cut a smaller piece.
"I might just go for a spot of fresh air, I'm feeling a little dizzy." He said as he glanced out of the window. The rain was pouring down.
"In this weather?" Asked Molly in disbelief. "You should do not such thing; you will catch a death of cold!" She said warningly.
"Don't worry." He replied with a false smile. "I'm not going to go dancing in it or anything. I will take an umbrella. It's just for a few minutes." And with that he walked out of the dining room, and out of the front door, where he pulled on his jacket, and stepped into the pouring rain without the umbrella. He would get soaked, but he really didn't care."