Chapter 14 - Christmas Break
Harry watched as another crumpled paper flew across the common room into the waste paper basket. Hermione heaved a sigh. The sound of the steady scratch of her quill was lost in the noise of the rowdy common room.
"That won't work," Hermione muttered as she crumpled up another piece of parchment. Ginny ducked as it went soaring over her head.
"Hermione, What are you doing? It's Christmas break and we don't have any homework," Ron commented.
"It's not for school. I'm writing to Viktor," she said.
"Oh," Ron scowled.
"Don't even start, Ron. I am not in the mood," she said.
"I didn't say a word about it," Ron said.
"And I'm sure you weren't going to make some smart comment, either," she snapped.
"No need to be so moody," Ron muttered. Hermione glared angrily at Ron as he walked away to join the other unruly Gryffindors. She shut her book with a snap and stood. "I can't get anything done here. I'm going to the library," she said before leaving. Harry and Ginny exchanged looks.
"This is going too far," Ginny shook her head, "I've said it before and I'll say it again. We need to get them together."
"You say that as if it's an easy thing," Harry laughed.
"Give me until after Christmas. I will have a plan by then," Ginny smirked.
"So what is it that you need a plan for?" George asked as he and Fred joined them.
"Ron and Hermione," Harry said.
"Oh yes. You do need a plan then. Carry on," Fred said.
"Well, while you think of your plan, I have to go pack my things," Harry said. "Train leaves in an hour and you didn't pack yet? My brother must really be starting to rub off on you," Ginny said jokingly as Harry retreated up the stairs to his Dormitory. Harry gave a quick look around the room and sighed. No matter how much the house elves tried to keep the dormitory clean, they were no match for five teenage boys. Harry's things lay strewn throughout the room along with the belongings of his four roommates. He grabbed what was his and began to throw it sloppily into his trunk.
"You packing already?" Ron asked from the doorway.
"I have to go meet Whitley at eleven thirty. Wanted to have it done before I left," Harry shrugged, Ron nodded and began to grab a few of his things and drop them into his own trunk.
After a few moments of silence, Harry teasingly asked, "So when are you going to ask Hermione out?"
"When am I what? I told you. I do not like her like that," Ron said resolutely.
"Give it up, Ron," Harry said, "I know you like her."
"I don't know," Ron shrugged.
"It's not like I'd ever tell anyone," Harry pressed.
"Okay. Yeah, I like her. So what?" Ron said defensively.
"Nothing. Just glad you finally admitted it. Now seeing as you like her and she likes you, Don't you think the thing to do is ask her out?" Harry asked.
"She doesn't like me and how would you know anyway?" Ron snapped.
"I just do," Harry said, "And I should warn you. It might be good to ask her out before Christmas break ends.'"
"And why is that?" he asked.
"Just trust me on this one," Harry said, "I'll meet you in the entrance hall at a quarter to twelve. I've got to meet Whitley now."
"Yeah, okay," Ron said as Harry left. He made his way through the rowdy common room and out the portrait hole. Harry admired the Christmas decorations of the castle. Once again, the statues were charmed to sing and this year Professor Flitwick had charmed many things throughout the castle to have a coating of ice that would neither melt or be cold. As Harry rounded a corner, he saw a couple fifth years were sliding down the ice-covered banister of the staircase. Among them were Fred and George. Harry tried to get by unnoticed, but, of course, failed.
"Harry! Come on and have a go!" Fred called.
"Ah, no thanks, Fred," he said and tried to hurry down the steps. George caught him by his arm and dragged him to the top. "Not a bit too old for this?" Harry asked.
"Not at all," Fred said, grinning broadly and he jumped atop the banister and slid to the bottom amid cheers from the fifth years. Harry willingly climbed onto the banister rather than have George force him on and without warning, George gave him a push, sending him sliding down swiftly. Harry stumbled a bit as he landed, but remained on his feet. He laughed along with the others, and stopped when he saw Whitley standing at the bottom of the stairs.
"Having fun?" Whitley asked, smiling.
"Of course," Harry returned the smile.
"Whitley, my dear. How about a go?" Fred said sweetly.
"No, thanks," she said quickly. She and Harry hurried away before they were 'helped' to go down by one of the twins.
"Come on, Harry! We'll miss the train," Ron called across the entrance hall fifteen minutes later. Harry ignored him.
"Hey, lover lips! Let's go!" He heard either Fred or George shout. Harry finally broke away from Whitley, though reluctantly. They weren't the only pair that was saying goodbye in the entrance hall then. Seamus and Parvati were only a few feet beside them.
"I'll see you when I get back here. Goodbye," Harry said and gave her one last kiss before he hurried over to the doors where Hermione and the Weasleys were waiting for him. He followed them out into the cold winter air to the carriages that were taking them to the train.
"We'll be right back," Fred said once at the station.
"We'll be right back," George said, "Need to pick something up for the holidays."
They hurried off into Hogsmeade, leaving the others very curious as to what they were doing. When they returned, they seemed to be empty handed until George pulled out a bottle of some orange liquid from his robes.
"Hey," Ron began, "Is that-"
"Yes it is. Rotan's Wild Rum. Strongest Liquor The Hog's Head has to offer. One swig and you're plastered," Fred said in a TV commercial voice, "I thought we'd have a nice New Year's celebration of our own."
"No thanks," Ginny moaned, clearly remembering the after effects of the last time.
"Absolutely not!" Hermione exclaimed, "And if you do-"
"You'll be a little snitch? Run and tell our mother?" George asked. Hermione pursed her lips and said no more about it, though she sent angry glares at the boys for the rest of the long train trip. At King's Cross Station, they were greeted by the usual group of five or six people, consisting this time of Mrs. Weasley, Remus, Tonks, Kingsley, and Mad-eye. They loaded the five trunks into the cab and squeezed in. The cab driver grumbling as much as every other one they had.
"Alright, inside, everyone," Mrs. Weasley said when they got to Grimmauld Place. Harry and Remus were the last to enter. Inside, it was decorated as it was the year before, though it looked much more comfortable. As Harry walked down the hall, he could see images of his Godfather draping garland on the banister, singing merrily. s he soon as he felt tears threaten to rise, he pushed away all thoughts of that. He didn't want to think about it, yet. It still hurt too much. Remus seemed to notice something, because he gave Harry's shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"You okay?" he asked so only Harry could hear.
"Fine," Harry gave his usual answer to the question.
"Supper's on the table, everyone. Then it's off to bed. Christmas eve tomorrow," Mrs. Weasley said as she led them into the kitchen. At the table, Mr. and Mrs. Granger sat, chatting with Mr. Weasley. Most likely about some muggle invention. Hermione ran over to greet her parents. Harry and the younger Weasleys also said hello. Everyone took a seat around the table and began filling their plates. After dinner, they all went to their rooms filled and tired.
Harry woke to what had become regular to him on Christmas morning. A pillow in the face from Ron and shout of ' Oi! Presents!' At the food of each of their beds was a large stack of presents. Ron was already tearing through the paper on one.
Harry grabbed the lumpy package on top, already knowing what it would be. He opened it and laid the Weasley sweater on his bed. The next package was from Hermione. From the feel and weight of it, it was a book. Harry was glad to see it was one about Quidditch. It didn't take very long to open through the presents. By the time Harry opened his last, Ron was halfway through his box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.
After opening their presents, the rest of the day was spent in the drawing room with everyone else. Mrs. Weasley went all out for a big Christmas feast that could have rivaled the Hogwarts feast. Memories of Sirius kept popping into Harry's head during the day, but he only pushed them away. Luckily, it was easy to keep from focusing on them with the twins keeping everyone entertained with their antics. It wasn't until the next evening that Harry began to feel depressed. The cheerful Christmas spirits had dissipated rather quickly. The memories and feeling of loss Harry had been pushing away were catching up with him. As he lay in bed that night, with his mind unoccupied, thoughts of Sirius started to overwhelm him. He went downstairs into the kitchen for a drink, knowing he wasn't going to get much sleep that night.
He searched for a bottle of Butterbeer. HE went to the pantry to look. What he found, though was not Butterbeer. He moved a dusty box over and behind it was a bottle of orange liquid. Not a very good hiding spot, Harry thought as he pulled out the bottle. Without a second thought, he opened the bottle and swallowed a mouthful. He began to cough and splutter as the burning alcohol went down his throat. He sat on the cold stone floor and took another drink from the bottle. He didn't care what would happen if anyone came down and found him. Unluckily for him, no one did come and find him. He was left to his own thoughts and when half of the bottle was gone, which didn't take long, he could barely walk or think straight.
With the bottle of Firewhiskey grasped tightly in his hand, Harry stumbled precariously down the hall, trying to be as quiet as possible, considering his state. He unlocked each of the ten or so locks on the door, and it swung open. He almost toppled down the stone stairs, but caught the railing to steady himself. He walked around the house to the back yard. At the far end, he found what he was looking for, his Godfather's flying motorcycle. The thought of Sirius made him take another large swig from the half empty bottle. He clambered onto the bike and turned the key. The engine roared loudly and on a last thought, Harry grabbed the black helmet and pulled it on his head. Before taking off, he downed some more alcohol, ignoring his doubled vision as he put the bike into drive and hit the gas. The bike sped across the yard at a dangerous speed, headed right for a neighboring house. Harry pulled up on the handle bars just in time, and flew straight into the air. The wind blew furiously and he felt the bike wobble under his control. Had he not been drunk, he would have noted the great feeling of being in the air.
Harry steered one handed, the Rum still clutched securely in his right hand. He put the bottle to his lips and emptied the remaining alcohol down his throat. The only thing he seemed to be able to think about was Sirius, and he felt tears run down his cheeks. He thought drinking made your problems go away and supposed he needed to drink more for it to work. He decided to land to get more someplace.
He pushed down on the handlebars and came to a jerky stop in the middle of a road in an unfamiliar city. He drove recklessly, in search of a bar or liquor store. He was completely unaware why so many other drivers were honking their horns at him. When a line of light posts jumped out of his way, he laughed.
After a few minutes of driving, he found the lighted sign of a bar. He abruptly turned for the building, not stopping to check if the way was clear. A pair of bright white lights came racing at him. It all happened in a whir of noise and pain. Next thing Harry knew, he was lying face down on the pavement, a trickling of warm blood running down his face.
"Are you okay, kid?" a man asked frantically.
"Should we call an ambulance?" another asked. "Drunk. He was all over the road," another muttered.
"That was a nasty crash," the first man said.
Harry rolled over to see a small group of people surrounding him. He groaned and pulled himself to his feet, wobbling uncertainly for a moment. He shoved away a man who tried to help him stand. The crash seemed to sober him instantly. He looked from the crowd, to his own torn clothes and scraped hands, to the wreck of metal that was once Sirius's bike. He knew he was in a tough fix this time. His head ached painfully, but he was sure it was the whiskey and not the crash that had done that.
He paced around the road, trying to think what to do now. He was sure the muggle police would be there any minute. He could just run off and find a way back to Grimmauld Place, he considered. The Death Eaters, they were sure to find out where he was before he reached London. Why had he felt the need to go for a mid-night drive? As he took off the bike helmet, he was surprised to see Kingsley Shacklebolt hurrying over, ignoring the five or six muggles standing around watching Harry.
"Harry, you okay? Nothing broken?" he asked.
"I'm fine," Harry answered, rubbing his temple. Kingsley sighed with relief. He raised his wand and fixed the gash above Harry's eye and the scrapes up his arms. "Remus, Mad-Eye, and Arthur will be here soon," he said, "Remus is worried sick about you." "I'm dead," Harry mumbled.
"When Remus gets here and sees that you're alright, you will be. I've only he seen him once before when he was angry...quite scary. I don't know if you've ever seen him in a rage..." Kingsley looked at him almost sympathetically.
"He's going to kill me," Harry groaned.
"I don't know," Kingsley said, "I must say, though. After this one, I'm not sure you don't deserve it." "Harry! Are you alright?" came the panicked voice of Remus.
"He's fine, Remus. Lucky he put the helmet on," Kingsley called.
"No! Don't leave me with him," Harry begged in a whisper.
"You're on your own," Kingsley said, hurrying away to join Mr. Weasley and Moody.
"Thank Merlin you're not hurt," Remus sighed, hugging Harry. When Remus released him, though, he raised a hand and Harry received a hard blow across the face. He was in shock by this sudden change in Remus's behavior.
"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING? YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED!" Remus yelled. Harry backed away from this unusually enraged Remus uncertainly. Remus seized him by the neck of his shirt and shook him, still shouting.
"How could you do something so damn reckless?" He grabbed from the ground the empty Rum bottle, brandishing it at him. "You drank all of this?" he asked unbelievingly, "So you were absolutely smashed? And then you ran away with a stolen motorcycle! What is wrong with you?" Harry tried to pull away from him and Remus hit him around the head, "DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED I WAS? I'm woken in the middle of the night by the minister of magic and told my best friend's son has just been involved in an accident on a bike that he stole! Then I find you were drinking! If Sirius were here, he'd have killed you! Look at his bike! You could have been killed!" Harry looked to the others for help but they all seemed completely oblivious to him and Remus. "I want to know what the hell you were thinking, taking the bike like that!" Remus continued yelling. Harry cringed away from him.
"Answer me!" Remus gave him another shake.
"I d-don't know," Harry said.
"Obviously, you weren't thinking at all! This is the stupidest thing you've ever done!" Remus yelled.
"I-I'm sorry," Harry said. He had never seen Remus as angry as this before and it shocked him.
"Not only did you endanger your own life, but the lives of others, as well!" Remus dragged him forcefully from the road to the sidewalk where Moody was modifying a memory.
"Finished?" Moody asked Remus.
"No. Here's your portkey. I'm taking him home now," Remus handed Moody a crumpled paper.
"Give me Death Eaters over teenagers any day," Moody muttered.
"Don't leave me with him," Harry mouthed at Kingsley, who was near by. Kingsley only shook his head.
"Here, take this," Remus thrust a spoon at Harry, who very reluctantly took hold of it. A moment later, he was in the kitchen of Grimmauld place. The Weasleys were sitting at the table; Harry saw them only a second before he was flung against the wall. Remus was evidently not concerned with the people around him.
"I just cannot believe you!" he shouted as Mrs. Weasley ushered the younger Weasleys out of the kitchen, "I just don't get how you could do something so stupid! What was going through your head at the time?" Unwanted tears spilled down Harry's cheeks.
"Now, Remus. Calm down," Mrs. Weasley said, attempting to calm him.
"Calm down? He just got drunk and crashed a flying motorcycle. Would you be calm?" Remus asked. He picked Harry off the ground and dropped him into one of the chairs. Harry cringed, expecting another blow.
"Please don't. I'm sorry," Harry said weakly. Remus backed away. That unusual rage left his face and he looked upset. He put his head in his hands for a moment, then dropped them.
"Get to your room, Harry. Just- Just go," he said in a controlled voice. Harry wiped his face with his sleeve, staining it with tears and left quickly.
The next morning, Harry's head was pounding. He groaned and opened his eyes. It felt like someone was taking a sledge hammer to his brain. After a shower, he felt no better. As he finished getting dressed, Ron came in with a goblet full of a frothy liquid.
"It's that hangover stuff. Fred and George made it. They said this one is on them," Ron said, handing Harry the drink.
"Thanks," he said.
"You remember anything that happened last night?" Ron asked.
"Enough. I don't think Remus is likely to let me forget," Harry muttered.
"What did happen?" Ron asked.
"I found Fred and George's Rum in the pantry and got drunk. Then it's blank. And I remember I ended up crashing. Then Lupin decided to come and fling me around a bit, as if I wasn't already in enough pain," Harry said heatedly.
"You crashed the bike?" Ron asked.
Harry nodded.
"No wonder Lupin was so mad," Ron said.
Harry sent him a glare and left the room, deciding he'd like to go see Buckbeak rather than people. He opened the door a bit to make sure Remus wasn't in the room as he usually was. He wasn't exactly Harry's favorite person at the moment. Buckbeak sat on the floor contentedly, chewing on a bone. Harry sat by him, stroking his head. When, a few minutes later, Remus came in, Harry couldn't say he was surprised. He knew they'd have to talk at some point that day. "Here to knock me around some more, Professor Lupin?" Harry asked angrily, narrowing his eyes. Remus frowned, "I'm not going to play this game with you, Harry. You can't tell me you didn't expect any less than that. You got drunk and ran off with a flying motorcycle. Did you expect me to be calm and relaxed?"
"What does it matter to you what I do?" Harry spat, getting to his feet.
"It matters a lot. I care what happens to you and don't ever question that again," he said. "Sure you do," Harry said under his breath. He brushed past Lupin, into the hall. Mr. Weasley was there, frowning slightly at him.
"Harry, we need to have a word," he said, "In the drawing room?"
Harry nodded. He followed Mr. Weasley into the room and took a seat. Mr. Weasley sat across from him.
"Harry, I can't let what happened last night slide at the ministry," he began. Harry nodded.
"It has to be put on your record now. And any other misdemeanor after will result in expulsion from Hogwarts. Do you understand?" he said seriously.
"Yes," Harry said.
"I must get back to work now. Lots to do," he said. They both stood to go.
"And Harry," Mr. Weasley said, before Harry opened the door, "He does care."
Harry nodded, knowing what he meant. Mr. Weasley left Harry to think it over and after a few minutes, he went down the hall to Buckbeak's room. Remus now sat beside the hippogriff, stroking his head. When he saw Harry, he stood up.
"Harry--" he began but Harry stopped him.
"I just want to say sorry about last night. It was a stupid thing to do," he said quietly.
"That it was. I thought you had better sense than to drink," Remus said, disappointment apparent in his voice. Harry thought he might rather if Remus started yelling again.
"I get it. I screwed up. I never would have taken the bike if I was sober," Harry said.
"Why were you drinking in the first place?" Remus asked.
"Every kid does it..." Harry shrugged.
"I don't care what every kid does. And I know if that was how it was, you would have invited the others to join. I know you had another reason," Remus said, knowingly, "Drinking will not make those things go away." "You're telling me," Harry sighed, "No more of these nights of drinking for me." "Nights? As in more than one? As in last night wasn't your first time, was it?" Remus asked.
"Yes, -er- Well, no," Harry said, realizing it was pointless to lie, "But only once before. And I swear I will never do it again." "I really hope not," Remus shook his head, disappointedly.
"You don't have to worry. If I have a pissed off you to come back to after, I won't be doing anything of the sort," Harry muttered.
"Glad to hear it," Remus said.
"I'm pretty hungry. I'm going to get something to eat," Harry said as his stomach growled.
Lupin looked curiously at Harry and asked, "You aren't feeling sick at all?"
"If you mean hung over, not at all," Harry answered and left the room, leaving Remus confused. He went down to the kitchen, where Mrs. Weasley was cooking. A few order members were sitting around the table. Harry avoided looking at them and sat with Fred, George, and Ron at the end of the table. The order members were all too involved in conversation to notice him much.
Harry watched as another crumpled paper flew across the common room into the waste paper basket. Hermione heaved a sigh. The sound of the steady scratch of her quill was lost in the noise of the rowdy common room.
"That won't work," Hermione muttered as she crumpled up another piece of parchment. Ginny ducked as it went soaring over her head.
"Hermione, What are you doing? It's Christmas break and we don't have any homework," Ron commented.
"It's not for school. I'm writing to Viktor," she said.
"Oh," Ron scowled.
"Don't even start, Ron. I am not in the mood," she said.
"I didn't say a word about it," Ron said.
"And I'm sure you weren't going to make some smart comment, either," she snapped.
"No need to be so moody," Ron muttered. Hermione glared angrily at Ron as he walked away to join the other unruly Gryffindors. She shut her book with a snap and stood. "I can't get anything done here. I'm going to the library," she said before leaving. Harry and Ginny exchanged looks.
"This is going too far," Ginny shook her head, "I've said it before and I'll say it again. We need to get them together."
"You say that as if it's an easy thing," Harry laughed.
"Give me until after Christmas. I will have a plan by then," Ginny smirked.
"So what is it that you need a plan for?" George asked as he and Fred joined them.
"Ron and Hermione," Harry said.
"Oh yes. You do need a plan then. Carry on," Fred said.
"Well, while you think of your plan, I have to go pack my things," Harry said. "Train leaves in an hour and you didn't pack yet? My brother must really be starting to rub off on you," Ginny said jokingly as Harry retreated up the stairs to his Dormitory. Harry gave a quick look around the room and sighed. No matter how much the house elves tried to keep the dormitory clean, they were no match for five teenage boys. Harry's things lay strewn throughout the room along with the belongings of his four roommates. He grabbed what was his and began to throw it sloppily into his trunk.
"You packing already?" Ron asked from the doorway.
"I have to go meet Whitley at eleven thirty. Wanted to have it done before I left," Harry shrugged, Ron nodded and began to grab a few of his things and drop them into his own trunk.
After a few moments of silence, Harry teasingly asked, "So when are you going to ask Hermione out?"
"When am I what? I told you. I do not like her like that," Ron said resolutely.
"Give it up, Ron," Harry said, "I know you like her."
"I don't know," Ron shrugged.
"It's not like I'd ever tell anyone," Harry pressed.
"Okay. Yeah, I like her. So what?" Ron said defensively.
"Nothing. Just glad you finally admitted it. Now seeing as you like her and she likes you, Don't you think the thing to do is ask her out?" Harry asked.
"She doesn't like me and how would you know anyway?" Ron snapped.
"I just do," Harry said, "And I should warn you. It might be good to ask her out before Christmas break ends.'"
"And why is that?" he asked.
"Just trust me on this one," Harry said, "I'll meet you in the entrance hall at a quarter to twelve. I've got to meet Whitley now."
"Yeah, okay," Ron said as Harry left. He made his way through the rowdy common room and out the portrait hole. Harry admired the Christmas decorations of the castle. Once again, the statues were charmed to sing and this year Professor Flitwick had charmed many things throughout the castle to have a coating of ice that would neither melt or be cold. As Harry rounded a corner, he saw a couple fifth years were sliding down the ice-covered banister of the staircase. Among them were Fred and George. Harry tried to get by unnoticed, but, of course, failed.
"Harry! Come on and have a go!" Fred called.
"Ah, no thanks, Fred," he said and tried to hurry down the steps. George caught him by his arm and dragged him to the top. "Not a bit too old for this?" Harry asked.
"Not at all," Fred said, grinning broadly and he jumped atop the banister and slid to the bottom amid cheers from the fifth years. Harry willingly climbed onto the banister rather than have George force him on and without warning, George gave him a push, sending him sliding down swiftly. Harry stumbled a bit as he landed, but remained on his feet. He laughed along with the others, and stopped when he saw Whitley standing at the bottom of the stairs.
"Having fun?" Whitley asked, smiling.
"Of course," Harry returned the smile.
"Whitley, my dear. How about a go?" Fred said sweetly.
"No, thanks," she said quickly. She and Harry hurried away before they were 'helped' to go down by one of the twins.
"Come on, Harry! We'll miss the train," Ron called across the entrance hall fifteen minutes later. Harry ignored him.
"Hey, lover lips! Let's go!" He heard either Fred or George shout. Harry finally broke away from Whitley, though reluctantly. They weren't the only pair that was saying goodbye in the entrance hall then. Seamus and Parvati were only a few feet beside them.
"I'll see you when I get back here. Goodbye," Harry said and gave her one last kiss before he hurried over to the doors where Hermione and the Weasleys were waiting for him. He followed them out into the cold winter air to the carriages that were taking them to the train.
"We'll be right back," Fred said once at the station.
"We'll be right back," George said, "Need to pick something up for the holidays."
They hurried off into Hogsmeade, leaving the others very curious as to what they were doing. When they returned, they seemed to be empty handed until George pulled out a bottle of some orange liquid from his robes.
"Hey," Ron began, "Is that-"
"Yes it is. Rotan's Wild Rum. Strongest Liquor The Hog's Head has to offer. One swig and you're plastered," Fred said in a TV commercial voice, "I thought we'd have a nice New Year's celebration of our own."
"No thanks," Ginny moaned, clearly remembering the after effects of the last time.
"Absolutely not!" Hermione exclaimed, "And if you do-"
"You'll be a little snitch? Run and tell our mother?" George asked. Hermione pursed her lips and said no more about it, though she sent angry glares at the boys for the rest of the long train trip. At King's Cross Station, they were greeted by the usual group of five or six people, consisting this time of Mrs. Weasley, Remus, Tonks, Kingsley, and Mad-eye. They loaded the five trunks into the cab and squeezed in. The cab driver grumbling as much as every other one they had.
"Alright, inside, everyone," Mrs. Weasley said when they got to Grimmauld Place. Harry and Remus were the last to enter. Inside, it was decorated as it was the year before, though it looked much more comfortable. As Harry walked down the hall, he could see images of his Godfather draping garland on the banister, singing merrily. s he soon as he felt tears threaten to rise, he pushed away all thoughts of that. He didn't want to think about it, yet. It still hurt too much. Remus seemed to notice something, because he gave Harry's shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"You okay?" he asked so only Harry could hear.
"Fine," Harry gave his usual answer to the question.
"Supper's on the table, everyone. Then it's off to bed. Christmas eve tomorrow," Mrs. Weasley said as she led them into the kitchen. At the table, Mr. and Mrs. Granger sat, chatting with Mr. Weasley. Most likely about some muggle invention. Hermione ran over to greet her parents. Harry and the younger Weasleys also said hello. Everyone took a seat around the table and began filling their plates. After dinner, they all went to their rooms filled and tired.
Harry woke to what had become regular to him on Christmas morning. A pillow in the face from Ron and shout of ' Oi! Presents!' At the food of each of their beds was a large stack of presents. Ron was already tearing through the paper on one.
Harry grabbed the lumpy package on top, already knowing what it would be. He opened it and laid the Weasley sweater on his bed. The next package was from Hermione. From the feel and weight of it, it was a book. Harry was glad to see it was one about Quidditch. It didn't take very long to open through the presents. By the time Harry opened his last, Ron was halfway through his box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.
After opening their presents, the rest of the day was spent in the drawing room with everyone else. Mrs. Weasley went all out for a big Christmas feast that could have rivaled the Hogwarts feast. Memories of Sirius kept popping into Harry's head during the day, but he only pushed them away. Luckily, it was easy to keep from focusing on them with the twins keeping everyone entertained with their antics. It wasn't until the next evening that Harry began to feel depressed. The cheerful Christmas spirits had dissipated rather quickly. The memories and feeling of loss Harry had been pushing away were catching up with him. As he lay in bed that night, with his mind unoccupied, thoughts of Sirius started to overwhelm him. He went downstairs into the kitchen for a drink, knowing he wasn't going to get much sleep that night.
He searched for a bottle of Butterbeer. HE went to the pantry to look. What he found, though was not Butterbeer. He moved a dusty box over and behind it was a bottle of orange liquid. Not a very good hiding spot, Harry thought as he pulled out the bottle. Without a second thought, he opened the bottle and swallowed a mouthful. He began to cough and splutter as the burning alcohol went down his throat. He sat on the cold stone floor and took another drink from the bottle. He didn't care what would happen if anyone came down and found him. Unluckily for him, no one did come and find him. He was left to his own thoughts and when half of the bottle was gone, which didn't take long, he could barely walk or think straight.
With the bottle of Firewhiskey grasped tightly in his hand, Harry stumbled precariously down the hall, trying to be as quiet as possible, considering his state. He unlocked each of the ten or so locks on the door, and it swung open. He almost toppled down the stone stairs, but caught the railing to steady himself. He walked around the house to the back yard. At the far end, he found what he was looking for, his Godfather's flying motorcycle. The thought of Sirius made him take another large swig from the half empty bottle. He clambered onto the bike and turned the key. The engine roared loudly and on a last thought, Harry grabbed the black helmet and pulled it on his head. Before taking off, he downed some more alcohol, ignoring his doubled vision as he put the bike into drive and hit the gas. The bike sped across the yard at a dangerous speed, headed right for a neighboring house. Harry pulled up on the handle bars just in time, and flew straight into the air. The wind blew furiously and he felt the bike wobble under his control. Had he not been drunk, he would have noted the great feeling of being in the air.
Harry steered one handed, the Rum still clutched securely in his right hand. He put the bottle to his lips and emptied the remaining alcohol down his throat. The only thing he seemed to be able to think about was Sirius, and he felt tears run down his cheeks. He thought drinking made your problems go away and supposed he needed to drink more for it to work. He decided to land to get more someplace.
He pushed down on the handlebars and came to a jerky stop in the middle of a road in an unfamiliar city. He drove recklessly, in search of a bar or liquor store. He was completely unaware why so many other drivers were honking their horns at him. When a line of light posts jumped out of his way, he laughed.
After a few minutes of driving, he found the lighted sign of a bar. He abruptly turned for the building, not stopping to check if the way was clear. A pair of bright white lights came racing at him. It all happened in a whir of noise and pain. Next thing Harry knew, he was lying face down on the pavement, a trickling of warm blood running down his face.
"Are you okay, kid?" a man asked frantically.
"Should we call an ambulance?" another asked. "Drunk. He was all over the road," another muttered.
"That was a nasty crash," the first man said.
Harry rolled over to see a small group of people surrounding him. He groaned and pulled himself to his feet, wobbling uncertainly for a moment. He shoved away a man who tried to help him stand. The crash seemed to sober him instantly. He looked from the crowd, to his own torn clothes and scraped hands, to the wreck of metal that was once Sirius's bike. He knew he was in a tough fix this time. His head ached painfully, but he was sure it was the whiskey and not the crash that had done that.
He paced around the road, trying to think what to do now. He was sure the muggle police would be there any minute. He could just run off and find a way back to Grimmauld Place, he considered. The Death Eaters, they were sure to find out where he was before he reached London. Why had he felt the need to go for a mid-night drive? As he took off the bike helmet, he was surprised to see Kingsley Shacklebolt hurrying over, ignoring the five or six muggles standing around watching Harry.
"Harry, you okay? Nothing broken?" he asked.
"I'm fine," Harry answered, rubbing his temple. Kingsley sighed with relief. He raised his wand and fixed the gash above Harry's eye and the scrapes up his arms. "Remus, Mad-Eye, and Arthur will be here soon," he said, "Remus is worried sick about you." "I'm dead," Harry mumbled.
"When Remus gets here and sees that you're alright, you will be. I've only he seen him once before when he was angry...quite scary. I don't know if you've ever seen him in a rage..." Kingsley looked at him almost sympathetically.
"He's going to kill me," Harry groaned.
"I don't know," Kingsley said, "I must say, though. After this one, I'm not sure you don't deserve it." "Harry! Are you alright?" came the panicked voice of Remus.
"He's fine, Remus. Lucky he put the helmet on," Kingsley called.
"No! Don't leave me with him," Harry begged in a whisper.
"You're on your own," Kingsley said, hurrying away to join Mr. Weasley and Moody.
"Thank Merlin you're not hurt," Remus sighed, hugging Harry. When Remus released him, though, he raised a hand and Harry received a hard blow across the face. He was in shock by this sudden change in Remus's behavior.
"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING? YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED!" Remus yelled. Harry backed away from this unusually enraged Remus uncertainly. Remus seized him by the neck of his shirt and shook him, still shouting.
"How could you do something so damn reckless?" He grabbed from the ground the empty Rum bottle, brandishing it at him. "You drank all of this?" he asked unbelievingly, "So you were absolutely smashed? And then you ran away with a stolen motorcycle! What is wrong with you?" Harry tried to pull away from him and Remus hit him around the head, "DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED I WAS? I'm woken in the middle of the night by the minister of magic and told my best friend's son has just been involved in an accident on a bike that he stole! Then I find you were drinking! If Sirius were here, he'd have killed you! Look at his bike! You could have been killed!" Harry looked to the others for help but they all seemed completely oblivious to him and Remus. "I want to know what the hell you were thinking, taking the bike like that!" Remus continued yelling. Harry cringed away from him.
"Answer me!" Remus gave him another shake.
"I d-don't know," Harry said.
"Obviously, you weren't thinking at all! This is the stupidest thing you've ever done!" Remus yelled.
"I-I'm sorry," Harry said. He had never seen Remus as angry as this before and it shocked him.
"Not only did you endanger your own life, but the lives of others, as well!" Remus dragged him forcefully from the road to the sidewalk where Moody was modifying a memory.
"Finished?" Moody asked Remus.
"No. Here's your portkey. I'm taking him home now," Remus handed Moody a crumpled paper.
"Give me Death Eaters over teenagers any day," Moody muttered.
"Don't leave me with him," Harry mouthed at Kingsley, who was near by. Kingsley only shook his head.
"Here, take this," Remus thrust a spoon at Harry, who very reluctantly took hold of it. A moment later, he was in the kitchen of Grimmauld place. The Weasleys were sitting at the table; Harry saw them only a second before he was flung against the wall. Remus was evidently not concerned with the people around him.
"I just cannot believe you!" he shouted as Mrs. Weasley ushered the younger Weasleys out of the kitchen, "I just don't get how you could do something so stupid! What was going through your head at the time?" Unwanted tears spilled down Harry's cheeks.
"Now, Remus. Calm down," Mrs. Weasley said, attempting to calm him.
"Calm down? He just got drunk and crashed a flying motorcycle. Would you be calm?" Remus asked. He picked Harry off the ground and dropped him into one of the chairs. Harry cringed, expecting another blow.
"Please don't. I'm sorry," Harry said weakly. Remus backed away. That unusual rage left his face and he looked upset. He put his head in his hands for a moment, then dropped them.
"Get to your room, Harry. Just- Just go," he said in a controlled voice. Harry wiped his face with his sleeve, staining it with tears and left quickly.
The next morning, Harry's head was pounding. He groaned and opened his eyes. It felt like someone was taking a sledge hammer to his brain. After a shower, he felt no better. As he finished getting dressed, Ron came in with a goblet full of a frothy liquid.
"It's that hangover stuff. Fred and George made it. They said this one is on them," Ron said, handing Harry the drink.
"Thanks," he said.
"You remember anything that happened last night?" Ron asked.
"Enough. I don't think Remus is likely to let me forget," Harry muttered.
"What did happen?" Ron asked.
"I found Fred and George's Rum in the pantry and got drunk. Then it's blank. And I remember I ended up crashing. Then Lupin decided to come and fling me around a bit, as if I wasn't already in enough pain," Harry said heatedly.
"You crashed the bike?" Ron asked.
Harry nodded.
"No wonder Lupin was so mad," Ron said.
Harry sent him a glare and left the room, deciding he'd like to go see Buckbeak rather than people. He opened the door a bit to make sure Remus wasn't in the room as he usually was. He wasn't exactly Harry's favorite person at the moment. Buckbeak sat on the floor contentedly, chewing on a bone. Harry sat by him, stroking his head. When, a few minutes later, Remus came in, Harry couldn't say he was surprised. He knew they'd have to talk at some point that day. "Here to knock me around some more, Professor Lupin?" Harry asked angrily, narrowing his eyes. Remus frowned, "I'm not going to play this game with you, Harry. You can't tell me you didn't expect any less than that. You got drunk and ran off with a flying motorcycle. Did you expect me to be calm and relaxed?"
"What does it matter to you what I do?" Harry spat, getting to his feet.
"It matters a lot. I care what happens to you and don't ever question that again," he said. "Sure you do," Harry said under his breath. He brushed past Lupin, into the hall. Mr. Weasley was there, frowning slightly at him.
"Harry, we need to have a word," he said, "In the drawing room?"
Harry nodded. He followed Mr. Weasley into the room and took a seat. Mr. Weasley sat across from him.
"Harry, I can't let what happened last night slide at the ministry," he began. Harry nodded.
"It has to be put on your record now. And any other misdemeanor after will result in expulsion from Hogwarts. Do you understand?" he said seriously.
"Yes," Harry said.
"I must get back to work now. Lots to do," he said. They both stood to go.
"And Harry," Mr. Weasley said, before Harry opened the door, "He does care."
Harry nodded, knowing what he meant. Mr. Weasley left Harry to think it over and after a few minutes, he went down the hall to Buckbeak's room. Remus now sat beside the hippogriff, stroking his head. When he saw Harry, he stood up.
"Harry--" he began but Harry stopped him.
"I just want to say sorry about last night. It was a stupid thing to do," he said quietly.
"That it was. I thought you had better sense than to drink," Remus said, disappointment apparent in his voice. Harry thought he might rather if Remus started yelling again.
"I get it. I screwed up. I never would have taken the bike if I was sober," Harry said.
"Why were you drinking in the first place?" Remus asked.
"Every kid does it..." Harry shrugged.
"I don't care what every kid does. And I know if that was how it was, you would have invited the others to join. I know you had another reason," Remus said, knowingly, "Drinking will not make those things go away." "You're telling me," Harry sighed, "No more of these nights of drinking for me." "Nights? As in more than one? As in last night wasn't your first time, was it?" Remus asked.
"Yes, -er- Well, no," Harry said, realizing it was pointless to lie, "But only once before. And I swear I will never do it again." "I really hope not," Remus shook his head, disappointedly.
"You don't have to worry. If I have a pissed off you to come back to after, I won't be doing anything of the sort," Harry muttered.
"Glad to hear it," Remus said.
"I'm pretty hungry. I'm going to get something to eat," Harry said as his stomach growled.
Lupin looked curiously at Harry and asked, "You aren't feeling sick at all?"
"If you mean hung over, not at all," Harry answered and left the room, leaving Remus confused. He went down to the kitchen, where Mrs. Weasley was cooking. A few order members were sitting around the table. Harry avoided looking at them and sat with Fred, George, and Ron at the end of the table. The order members were all too involved in conversation to notice him much.