Everyone loved Cedric Diggory. He was almost universally regarded as a pleasant fellow: a sportsman and a scholar. Every year he would arrive at the school via yacht, blasting "Indian Reservation" on the sound system, wearing aviators and Cree war bonnet, and would stride onto the shores of the Scottish isle, holding with one arm a massive duffel bag full of rifles and cocaine. Everyone loved Cedric Diggory.
That is, until he started shacking up with Cho Chang. Everyone viewed this as an immense insult on both of their parts to Harry. Not that Harry was especially popular, but Ron was, and Ron was very fond of Harry and used his influence to very quickly change opinions regarding Diggory. Soon enough, the duffels full of cocaine and firearms were no longer the harmless eccentricities of a benign party monster, but the loathsome addictions and cries-for-help of a depraved and violent substance-abuser.
It was to celebrate this massive change in public opinion that Harry, Luna, Severus, Ron, and Reggie had gotten together in one of Hogsmeade's more upscale hash parlors. They ate hash balls and hash bars, and drank from hash-infused beverages. They laughed and cried and had a wonderful time. Then they all started to come down.
Harry was lying on a beanbag chair that had been done over in tassels meant to exude an asiatic atmosphere when it suddenly occurred to him that someone was missing.
"Where's Colin?" he said, not to anyone in particular.
Severus tossed his head slightly from side to side, as if he had set out to pretend to be looking but had lost the energy about halfway through. "Oh, he's… he's about. I'm sure of it."
Reggie shifted himself up slightly off a stack of cushions, "I-I don't think he is, actually."
Harry grumbled. "Well, that's just great."
Ron mumbled. "Shut it. I'm tryna sleep..."
"That's him out the door right now, I think," said Luna, pointing to the glass entrance of the parlor. She wasn't tired like the rest, and in fact was drumming the table with her fingers and tapping her feet on the ground. She had snorted a few lines of Columbian orgone powder once she had felt the hash begin to wear off. This was Luna's existence, high after high which she never allowed to end.
"Harry!" Colin shouted, running over to the table they were at. Once he reached them he began babbling about what he had seen, about how the professors had plotted to create a militant group whose name might cause a misapprehension that Harry was in some way affiliated with it. But his speech was hopelessly slurred and this part of the story became wrapped up in the hallucinations he'd had earlier, and the whole thing was so mangled to the point that neither Luna in her mental hyperactivity or the lads in their post-hash stupor could pick up what he had just laid down.
Colin too, was so worn out by his recitation that he'd forgotten the whole thing, and collapsed onto the cushions along with the others.
After a few hours, it was closing time, and they all left the parlor. They made brief farewells and then all headed in their separate directions. Harry walked with Colin and Luna, as the three had checked into the same hotel.
Luna turned to Colin. "Colin, what was all that stuff you were saying inside?"
Colin scratched his head and mumbled, "Dunno. I seem to have forgotten. Do you recall any of the details? Maybe it'll jog my memory."
Harry furrowed his brow, before stopping, because it always agitated his scar when he did that. "Well, you said something about an army named after me, and a fight against Tom Riddle."
Colin snorted. "You mean that Slytherin kid with those gay-ass jodhpurs?"
"Hey, these were your ramblings, not mine." Harry ignored the homophobic remark. Why did so many of his friends talk like that? Did it say something about the kind of person he was that they did?
"Well, it's still not ringing any bells," Colin laughed, "Maybe I was having some kind of oracular fit? Maybe it was a prophecy like the ones Trelawney has when she spazzes out!"
Harry laughed too, "Trelawney? What, as in the Anthony Powell character?"
"No, we have a professor called that," said Luna, "Have you not had her?"
"Well, not one of her classes anyway," Harry joked.
Luna punched him in the ribs.
Harry stumbled from the blow, still laughing.
"I suppose it is kind of funny that we have a professor called that. I wonder if she's named for the character?" Pondered Luna.
"I fail to see how she couldn't be," Harry said, "Our faculty's fucking rife allusory names. Do you remember that one Defense professor we had? Whatshisname? Grumpy? Pissy?"
"Aleister Moody," corrected Luna.
"Yeah! Where the hell do you think he got his first name from?" Harry said. "It's really cringe. I swear, some people just shouldn't be allowed to decide their own names."