Chapter 1
"I don't have any idea how your brothers managed to knick all this alcohol," Hermione tutted, setting down a crate of a Muggle brand of beer.
It was Miller Light, which Ron claimed was named after his next door neighbour, Old Milly Miller, but Harry insisted it wasn't.
Hermione made a feminine grunt (if that's possible) and settled herself in an armchair with a new copy of "Hogwarts, A History" which had just recently been revised and had many added features. None of which the boys paid any attention to.
Harry, having used Wingardeum Leviosa with his two crates, lowered them onto the Gryffindor couch and sat beside them happily. "I don't care how they did it. I'm just happy they did."
Ron and his nine crates (magically made miniature for easy carrying) came through the portrait hole next. "They said Dad confiscated them." He shrugged and set the tiny crates on a table. "Dunno why though."
"We ought not drink from them," replied Hermione primly. "They could be poisoned." She set her book tentatively on her lap and watched the boys with bossy eyes.
"If they were, Mr. Weasley wouldn't keep them in his cellar for Fred and George to find." Harry said reasonably. "Plus, you know anti-poison charms."
"You would too," Hermione pointed out hotly, "If you paid attention in Charms."
Harry rolled his eyes, "Paying attention and learning doesn't get you anywhere in this world."
"Right on, Harry!" Ron yelled, giving his friend a high five and then sliding down to the floor. Carrying around nine crates of beer (even though they were tiny) was tiring work.
"You don't have to participate if you don't want to, 'Mione," Harry said, looking to Ron for backup.
"No, you don't. We'll drink them by ourselves." Ron nodded happily.
"Drink twelve crates of beer! Do you know how much alcohol you'd be consuming?" Her voice was shrill and very, very piercing. Ron did all he could not to cover his ears. "Muggle beer has a LOT more alcohol in it than Butterbeer does. You'll pass out when you get round to two crates. Maybe even one. I'm not sure how well you hold your liquor."
"Not well," Ron sniggered at Harry's expense. Harry hit him in the back of the head and told him to shut up using some very rude and colorful words.
Hermione ignored them, "I will participate...but seeing as how it is the Christmas holidays, I think we should invite some others to join us. A sort of party."
"The only people who stayed back are Malfoy, Seamus, Neville, Ginny, Lavender, and Chay." Harry said, ticking off names on his fingers. "I don't think we should invite Malfoy."
Ron's eyes gleamed. "Oh, Harry. Yes, we should."
Harry glanced at Ron, startled, "Come again?"
"Let's invite Malfoy," he said, grinning evilly. "It'll be a grand old time. We can knock him round the head for old time's sake."
Harry shrugged, not really caring if Malfoy was there or not. If Harry became really, really drunk it wouldn't matter whom was around him.
"Alright, deal. But I want Hermione to perform anti-slurring charms on us before we start. It'll be really hard if Seamus walks around with his Irish accent saying ANYTHING at all." As an afterthought, he added, "I can hardly understand him as it is."
Hermione was very angry with Harry for suggesting she does all the dirty work, but she didn't say anything. Secretly, she looked forward to seeing a very drunk Draco Malfoy. Or at least, she hoped she'd get to see a very drunk Draco Malfoy.
"Nonslaratious," whispered Hermione, flipping her wand towards Ron, who was grinning like a maniac. A little silver stream of light fell out of Hermione's wand and flew into Ron's open mouth.
He swallowed it, coughing, and then looked up at them, "Let the fun begin."
"I don't have any idea how your brothers managed to knick all this alcohol," Hermione tutted, setting down a crate of a Muggle brand of beer.
It was Miller Light, which Ron claimed was named after his next door neighbour, Old Milly Miller, but Harry insisted it wasn't.
Hermione made a feminine grunt (if that's possible) and settled herself in an armchair with a new copy of "Hogwarts, A History" which had just recently been revised and had many added features. None of which the boys paid any attention to.
Harry, having used Wingardeum Leviosa with his two crates, lowered them onto the Gryffindor couch and sat beside them happily. "I don't care how they did it. I'm just happy they did."
Ron and his nine crates (magically made miniature for easy carrying) came through the portrait hole next. "They said Dad confiscated them." He shrugged and set the tiny crates on a table. "Dunno why though."
"We ought not drink from them," replied Hermione primly. "They could be poisoned." She set her book tentatively on her lap and watched the boys with bossy eyes.
"If they were, Mr. Weasley wouldn't keep them in his cellar for Fred and George to find." Harry said reasonably. "Plus, you know anti-poison charms."
"You would too," Hermione pointed out hotly, "If you paid attention in Charms."
Harry rolled his eyes, "Paying attention and learning doesn't get you anywhere in this world."
"Right on, Harry!" Ron yelled, giving his friend a high five and then sliding down to the floor. Carrying around nine crates of beer (even though they were tiny) was tiring work.
"You don't have to participate if you don't want to, 'Mione," Harry said, looking to Ron for backup.
"No, you don't. We'll drink them by ourselves." Ron nodded happily.
"Drink twelve crates of beer! Do you know how much alcohol you'd be consuming?" Her voice was shrill and very, very piercing. Ron did all he could not to cover his ears. "Muggle beer has a LOT more alcohol in it than Butterbeer does. You'll pass out when you get round to two crates. Maybe even one. I'm not sure how well you hold your liquor."
"Not well," Ron sniggered at Harry's expense. Harry hit him in the back of the head and told him to shut up using some very rude and colorful words.
Hermione ignored them, "I will participate...but seeing as how it is the Christmas holidays, I think we should invite some others to join us. A sort of party."
"The only people who stayed back are Malfoy, Seamus, Neville, Ginny, Lavender, and Chay." Harry said, ticking off names on his fingers. "I don't think we should invite Malfoy."
Ron's eyes gleamed. "Oh, Harry. Yes, we should."
Harry glanced at Ron, startled, "Come again?"
"Let's invite Malfoy," he said, grinning evilly. "It'll be a grand old time. We can knock him round the head for old time's sake."
Harry shrugged, not really caring if Malfoy was there or not. If Harry became really, really drunk it wouldn't matter whom was around him.
"Alright, deal. But I want Hermione to perform anti-slurring charms on us before we start. It'll be really hard if Seamus walks around with his Irish accent saying ANYTHING at all." As an afterthought, he added, "I can hardly understand him as it is."
Hermione was very angry with Harry for suggesting she does all the dirty work, but she didn't say anything. Secretly, she looked forward to seeing a very drunk Draco Malfoy. Or at least, she hoped she'd get to see a very drunk Draco Malfoy.
"Nonslaratious," whispered Hermione, flipping her wand towards Ron, who was grinning like a maniac. A little silver stream of light fell out of Hermione's wand and flew into Ron's open mouth.
He swallowed it, coughing, and then looked up at them, "Let the fun begin."