A/N: So, here I am again. Back finally with a little inspiration. Sorry
the chapter is uber short, but we've had things to do **hinthintOotP**.
The next chapter is actually half written, so it shouldn't be too long
before I update again. Thanks for all the splendid reviews everyone, and
keep them coming. I'd love to see 100 reviews before I even get chapter 6
out *is hopeful*. Like I said before, I still need a beta for my WIP "Room
for Squares" and the last couple chapters of this one, so let me know OK?
The song is from Monty Python, from a sketch that actually exists. MAJOR plot holes are existing in this chapter, but I take it in stride because I'm a chintzy writer. Love you all. **Toodle-loo!**
Chapter 5: The Gala, The Cup and The Australian Philosopher's Drinking Song
*~*~*~*
Wind rushed across Harry's face as he dove towards the ground in pursuit of the Snitch. It was true he was late to meet up with Hermione, but there was something about flying that eased the growing anticipation in his stomach. He could see Hermione in his mind, sitting impatiently on the couch in the hotel, ready way too early, as always. He smiled as he grabbed the Snitch effortlessly and pulled out of the dive. He looked at his watch and sighed, pulling his broom around, and landing softly on the grass.
"Looking good, Potter. Very impressive!"
Harry turned to see Oliver Wood sitting in the stands. Harry smiled and strode towards him. Oliver met him halfway.
"Thanks. I wavered on the dive a little though," Harry responded, reaching his hand out to shake Oliver's.
"You couldn't tell from down here. You are going tonight, right?"
"Of course. Couldn't pass up a chance to make a rustle with the press with Hermione. Should be a blast. Draco was working on the table assignments a couple of nights ago. Guess he decided to place Oliver Wood and "Guest" with the infamous trio, the little sister, and the arch-enemy."
"He has a sense of humor, that Malfoy. Should be a good time. Shouldn't you be getting back to the hotel? How is the Hermione situation anyway?"
Harry groaned outright. Oliver laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.
"It'll get better. I'll see you later tonight."
Oliver disappeared and Harry followed suit, apparating into his bedroom at the hotel.
"Harry, it that you?"
"I would hope so!" he answered, stepping into the bathroom. "Let me take a shower and I'll get dressed and we can go."
He heard Hermione give an impatient sigh as he closed the door, chuckling to him self.
*~*
Straightening his bow tie, he took one last deep breath and reached for the doorknob. As the door squeaked open, Hermione stood up quickly, her dress falling around her. Harry's mouth almost hit the floor.
The deep green satin pooled at her feet lightly and Harry's eyes followed the dress line up. It was tighter than the usual Hermione dress, but it looked amazing on her. His eyes traveled to the neckline and he almost lost himself completely.
"You have a chest!"
Harry's hand clapped to his mouth as soon as the words ended.
"Oh my god, Hermione! I'm so sorry!"
Hermione giggled at Harry's reaction.
"Jeez, Hermione, you look amazing. Gorgeous. Beautiful. I've run out of adjectives to describe it. None of them would do you justice."
"You don't look too bad yourself, Harry. A suit with tails, huh?" Hermione walked around Harry slowly, taking in his outfit. Harry's head tried to follow her around him.
"Hold still, Harry."
Harry straightened himself and Hermione completed her slow circle around him.
"Do I meet your approval?"
"Quite well. Let's go."
*~*
"John Stuart Mill, of his own free will, after half a bottle of Chianti was particularly ill. Plato they say could stick it away, 'alf a crate of whiskey everyday. Aristotle, Aristotle, was a bugger for the bottle. Hobbes was fond of his dram. Rene Descartes was a drunken fart. 'I drink therefore I am!' Socrates himself is particularly missed. A lovely little thinker but a bugger when he's pissed!"
Harry, Oliver, Ron, Draco and Hermione collapsed to the floor in a fit of giggles. Harry reached for his beer, but was sorely upset when he found it not there.
"Harry, you've had enough," Ginny chided, picking up the remainder of the beer bottles. Harry scoffed, but got over it and climbed to the tabletop.
"I just want to let this pub know that England will always have the greatest team ever!"
A chorus of cheers answered Harry. Harry smiled a cheesy half smile and staggered a bit.
"We won the fucking Quidditch World Cup!"
"Hell yeah we did!" Jeffry O'Neill answered, slipping slightly from his barstool.
Katie Bell was trying to get Hermione back into a chair off the floor, but was failing horribly, as she was quite drunk herself. Ginny sat and watched her friends amusedly and after Katie and Hermione fell back to the ground in a heap, tried to help them up.
Draco placed himself in a chair next to his wife.
"We should head back to the rooms. Harry's had a bit too much tonight, and I daresay Hermione's at her limit. Harry will have his interviews to attend to tomorrow."
Hermione tried to brush him off with her hand and fell from her chair again.
"Perhaps I have had a little bit too much."
Harry cackled wildly and attempted to pull Hermione to her feet. He staggered a bit, but managed to stay upright and made to head for the door. Ginny rose quickly and stopped them, then returned to the table to collect her handbag and husband. Ron, his date (a random ministry witch from the Department of Magical Games and Sports), Oliver, and Katie followed after them.
They made their way, barely, to the elevator and each group collapsed into their own room.
Harry and Hermione felt into their couch like dead logs. Harry regained himself enough to look at Hermione and smile.
"You really are beautiful 'Mione."
Hermione giggled and slumped onto Harry's shoulder.
"Thanks, Harry."
*~*~*~*
The song is from Monty Python, from a sketch that actually exists. MAJOR plot holes are existing in this chapter, but I take it in stride because I'm a chintzy writer. Love you all. **Toodle-loo!**
Chapter 5: The Gala, The Cup and The Australian Philosopher's Drinking Song
*~*~*~*
Wind rushed across Harry's face as he dove towards the ground in pursuit of the Snitch. It was true he was late to meet up with Hermione, but there was something about flying that eased the growing anticipation in his stomach. He could see Hermione in his mind, sitting impatiently on the couch in the hotel, ready way too early, as always. He smiled as he grabbed the Snitch effortlessly and pulled out of the dive. He looked at his watch and sighed, pulling his broom around, and landing softly on the grass.
"Looking good, Potter. Very impressive!"
Harry turned to see Oliver Wood sitting in the stands. Harry smiled and strode towards him. Oliver met him halfway.
"Thanks. I wavered on the dive a little though," Harry responded, reaching his hand out to shake Oliver's.
"You couldn't tell from down here. You are going tonight, right?"
"Of course. Couldn't pass up a chance to make a rustle with the press with Hermione. Should be a blast. Draco was working on the table assignments a couple of nights ago. Guess he decided to place Oliver Wood and "Guest" with the infamous trio, the little sister, and the arch-enemy."
"He has a sense of humor, that Malfoy. Should be a good time. Shouldn't you be getting back to the hotel? How is the Hermione situation anyway?"
Harry groaned outright. Oliver laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.
"It'll get better. I'll see you later tonight."
Oliver disappeared and Harry followed suit, apparating into his bedroom at the hotel.
"Harry, it that you?"
"I would hope so!" he answered, stepping into the bathroom. "Let me take a shower and I'll get dressed and we can go."
He heard Hermione give an impatient sigh as he closed the door, chuckling to him self.
*~*
Straightening his bow tie, he took one last deep breath and reached for the doorknob. As the door squeaked open, Hermione stood up quickly, her dress falling around her. Harry's mouth almost hit the floor.
The deep green satin pooled at her feet lightly and Harry's eyes followed the dress line up. It was tighter than the usual Hermione dress, but it looked amazing on her. His eyes traveled to the neckline and he almost lost himself completely.
"You have a chest!"
Harry's hand clapped to his mouth as soon as the words ended.
"Oh my god, Hermione! I'm so sorry!"
Hermione giggled at Harry's reaction.
"Jeez, Hermione, you look amazing. Gorgeous. Beautiful. I've run out of adjectives to describe it. None of them would do you justice."
"You don't look too bad yourself, Harry. A suit with tails, huh?" Hermione walked around Harry slowly, taking in his outfit. Harry's head tried to follow her around him.
"Hold still, Harry."
Harry straightened himself and Hermione completed her slow circle around him.
"Do I meet your approval?"
"Quite well. Let's go."
*~*
"John Stuart Mill, of his own free will, after half a bottle of Chianti was particularly ill. Plato they say could stick it away, 'alf a crate of whiskey everyday. Aristotle, Aristotle, was a bugger for the bottle. Hobbes was fond of his dram. Rene Descartes was a drunken fart. 'I drink therefore I am!' Socrates himself is particularly missed. A lovely little thinker but a bugger when he's pissed!"
Harry, Oliver, Ron, Draco and Hermione collapsed to the floor in a fit of giggles. Harry reached for his beer, but was sorely upset when he found it not there.
"Harry, you've had enough," Ginny chided, picking up the remainder of the beer bottles. Harry scoffed, but got over it and climbed to the tabletop.
"I just want to let this pub know that England will always have the greatest team ever!"
A chorus of cheers answered Harry. Harry smiled a cheesy half smile and staggered a bit.
"We won the fucking Quidditch World Cup!"
"Hell yeah we did!" Jeffry O'Neill answered, slipping slightly from his barstool.
Katie Bell was trying to get Hermione back into a chair off the floor, but was failing horribly, as she was quite drunk herself. Ginny sat and watched her friends amusedly and after Katie and Hermione fell back to the ground in a heap, tried to help them up.
Draco placed himself in a chair next to his wife.
"We should head back to the rooms. Harry's had a bit too much tonight, and I daresay Hermione's at her limit. Harry will have his interviews to attend to tomorrow."
Hermione tried to brush him off with her hand and fell from her chair again.
"Perhaps I have had a little bit too much."
Harry cackled wildly and attempted to pull Hermione to her feet. He staggered a bit, but managed to stay upright and made to head for the door. Ginny rose quickly and stopped them, then returned to the table to collect her handbag and husband. Ron, his date (a random ministry witch from the Department of Magical Games and Sports), Oliver, and Katie followed after them.
They made their way, barely, to the elevator and each group collapsed into their own room.
Harry and Hermione felt into their couch like dead logs. Harry regained himself enough to look at Hermione and smile.
"You really are beautiful 'Mione."
Hermione giggled and slumped onto Harry's shoulder.
"Thanks, Harry."
*~*~*~*
