Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter I would be rich and writing book 6 right now instead of posting fanfiction and scrapping cash together for a laptop (and studying for finals… wish me luck!)
Title: Sink, Line, and Hooker
Notes: The next chapter may take a few weeks to finish due to finals coming up soon. If I do manage to post before mid-December you'll know I've skived off my studies :o)
Big thanks to my beta, Manchot du Destin, for nitpicking! Once again, definitely check out her story, Of Cohorts and Competitors, for a good read!
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Droobles Best Bubblegum Rum—In my mind, this is a bubblegum flavored margarita
Chocolate Pensieve—Wizard version of the mudslide
Bludger—Really potent alcohol drink. May or may not have an extra magical boost
Smoking Dragon—Sort of like a flaming shot I suppose. I'm pulling all this out of my nose because I'm not (I swear!) an alcoholic by any means.
The Cursed Cat had been cleaned up and decorated extravagantly for the evening's activities. The first thing Hermione noticed upon entering was the life sized plastic Harry Potter replica complete with a glowing wand (He's going to adore that). For lighting, the staff had lit Quaffle-sized orbs which were floating around near the ceiling, each omitting a different colored soft light. It gave the place a very serene feel. Banners hung from the walls, all with celebratory phrases like 'Way to Go Dumbledore's Army' and 'Yay, Voldemort's Dead (and Harry isn't).' Next to those were smaller green signs that all read 'Harry, Harry he's our man, if he couldn't do it—we'd all be dead!' Hermione assumed those were Fred and George's doing. Next to her, Ron seemed to notice them also, although his response was a snort of laughter. She shot him a look and he immediately went silent (although there was still a smirk on his face).
There were two buffet tables lined with food varying from lightning bolt shaped mini cakes to chocolate wands. A large glass bowl was filled with small multicolored candies but she noticed the Weasley twins hovering nearby (better to stay away from those). Glancing around, she saw that the bar was already packed with people, most of whom she'd only seen in passing in hallways at the Ministry. There were only a few people on the dance floor thus far; most were nursing drinks at nearby tables. Parvati Patil was the first familiar face Hermione spotted; she was sipping a Droobles Best Bubblegum Rum and twirling a black lock of hair around her finger. Hermione didn't recognize the man Parvati was talking to but she looked completely enamored with him. Deciding not to interrupt what was probably (not) a fascinating conversation, Hermione took hold of Ron's hand and led him toward the bar.
She was not what you would call a heavy drinker. In fact, she hardly ever had more then one butterbeer at a time. Ron, however, could occasionally be quite the opposite. She had heard from a fairly reliable source that onetime during 7th year, he and Harry had snuck a large quantity of firewhiskey into the Gryffindor boy's dormitory after a Quidditch match. This seemed relatively out of character for the two of them but Hermione distinctly remembered them being suspiciously ill one morning after a victory over Slytherin the night before. At the time, she had attributed it to spending two hours on a broomstick in the middle of February. Was I ever wrong.
It didn't take long for the whole place to fill up. As far as she knew, the only people invited were ministry workers, members of the D.A., and the Order of the Phoenix. She was having a wonderful time in no time at all. Hopping from table to table, butterbeer in hand, she realized there were tons of people who knew exactly who she was. Apparently Hermione Granger was quite famous in her own right. I've spent so much time with my head in books, researching spells to help Harry defeat Voldemort—I hadn't even realized people were paying attention. For the first time, Hermione realized that what they had done hadn't only affected her family and friends, but every single person in the wizarding world. She, Ron—the rest of the D.A.—they had ended the war. Granted, not every battle had been won, but the outcome was still the same. The thought blew her away.
A little while later she looked up across the lounge area to find Harry eyeing her from across the room. He gave her a big smile and started making his way over. He was stopped quite a few times by pretty women (probably Aurors?). This never ceased to make Hermione giggle. Harry had been so bad with girls at first. Hanging out with Ginny had helped somewhat but he always looked at a loss for words whenever a woman he didn't know was around. When he finally reached her, Hermione noticed that he looked so happy; finally free of the prophesy that had hung over his head for so many years. His black hair was, as always, a tangled mess, but his cheeks were rosy and his green eyes sparkled. For the first time since before she could remember, he looked completely at ease.
"Hey."
"Hi—are you enjoying yourself?"
He grinned widely, "Brilliant, yeah?" He clinked his bottle of Chocolate Pensieve against her mug. "Here's to our defeat over Voldemort!"
"Oh, are we toasting?" came Fred Weasley's voice from behind them.
"I love a good toast, dear brother," drawled a matching one from behind him.
Hermione groaned. The night was about to get interesting.
As if he read her mind, Fred climbed onto the bar, which was illuminated by fairy lights, while clinking his glass madly. "ATTENTION!" The room slowly quieted down, everyone was waiting to hear what the amused-looking redhead had to say. After a long dramatic pause, he bellowed, "We are gathered here today to celebrate a VICTORY!" Everyone within hearing distance cheered loudly. "A victory over the craziest, ugliest, DEADEST son of a bitch that ever set foot on the PLANET." Hermione laughed as the room was filled once again with cheers. "And I think we all need to give a round of applause to Witch Weekly's #1 Bachelor, Dark-Wizard Defeater, Seeker Extraordinaire, The-Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Die, Mr. HARRY POTTER!" As this last, drawn out sentence came to a close, the room erupted with whoops and screeches. Harry gave an embarrassed wave and downed the rest of his drink.
After a few minutes, everyone resumed their previous activities and Fred and George left to 'check' on the buffet tables (they did admit to having a surprise in store for later on). Ron finally reappeared, pink to the tips of his ears. "Harry! Do a bludger with me!" Harry didn't put up much of a fight as Ron slammed the glass down in front of him. Thirty minutes, two butterbeers, and a hundred jeers later ("She won't do it, mate," Ron had said) Hermione found herself accepting a small shot of glowing purple liquid from the bartender. She looked them both dead in the eyes, lifted the glass and tossed the contents down her throat. It was very difficult not to shudder as the awful concoction burned its way down her esophagus. How could they have downed so many of these? It tastes dreadful!
The two grown men howled with laughter. Harry thrust his fist into the air and shouted, "We've finally broken her!"
"Oh for heavens sake, you two, it's just an alcoholic beverage! It's not like you convinced me to take off all my clothes and dance on the bar naked," she huffed. Ron's eyes popped up and a massive grin spread across his face at this remark. Her head had begun to feel light and there was a definite fluttering behind her eyes and forehead. So this is what being drunk feels like. She assumed this wasn't even the worst of it. Seamus Finnigan had waltzed past not five minutes earlier slurring something about catching the loose Hippogriff. Katie Bell was swaying wildly around the dance floor with George, and Alicia Spinnett had downed her fifth firewhiskey. "It's like a Gryffindor party," Hermione commented more to herself then anyone else. Beside her, Harry and Ron burst out laughing again. "Oh stop it the both of you! I think you're waaayy more intoxicated then I feel."
"S'that even a complete sentence?" Ron slurred. Hermione couldn't help but giggle. Here they stood, three of the most intelligent Hogwarts graduates, getting drunk at a celebration.
"There you three are!" called Ginny from somewhere in the crowd.
Hermione swiveled around on her barstool to face her friend. Ginny's flaming red hair was curling softly around her face and she was dressed in a thin white t-shirt and a knee-length jean skirt. "Ginny… you look so—nice!" she heard herself slur.
"You two got Hermione drunk?" she laughed.
"I am not drunk!" she shouted indignantly, trying to hear herself speak over the loud music playing in the background. Ginny did her best to stifle a giggle.
o-o-o-o
Harry didn't think he had ever seen Ginny look so beautiful (then again, a lot of things seemed beautiful at the moment). She was smiling and teasing Hermione about being drunk, completely ignoring the fact that he and Ron weren't in any better shape. His thoughts weren't coming out complete sentences; all Harry knew is that the woman standing before him had long since grown up from the little girl who'd followed him around Hogwarts. Not that he hadn't realized this a long time ago, but tonight her thin t-shirt and feminine skirt made Harry truly appreciate the opposite sex. Hermione had often mentioned that he needed to find a girlfriend; but he usually just rolled his eyes and told her that he had too many other things to worry about. But now, the war was over. Now he could go back to what he was before: Just Harry.
"Ron! I hate bludgers, they're sickening!"
"Please, Gin—you're just terrified it'll taste bad," Ron was teasing. He downed another shot glass filled with the purple liquid, as if to prove there was nothing to it.
"Kid stuff," she replied wistfully. Her expression turned challenging and she pushed her red hair behind her ears. "Think you can take me, Ronald?"
Oh no, this doesn't sound good.
She smiled mischievously and called the bartender over. "Four smoking dragons please."
Harry's jaw dropped.
The bartender dropped four glasses down on the counter in front of them and filled them with mulled mead (or something like it). He then set four shot glasses full of bright red liquid nearby and pulled out his wand.
"Er—Ginny?" Hermione asked curiously. She obviously had no idea what was going on. Harry, however, had seen Al down quite a few these in years past. He had never tried one himself, mostly due to the next part of the mixture.
From the bartender's wand came four bursts of fire, alighting the shot glasses. Ginny caught his eye and grinned.
She doesn't think I'll do it. Not wanting to be shown up by a beautiful woman, Harry took a deep breath, picked up the glass and dropped it into the mulled mead. It immediately began to smoke and hiss, but before his better sense of judgment reared its ugly head, he picked up the glass and started to chug. Ginny, on the other side of Ron and Hermione was doing the exact same thing. The concoction wasn't at all pleasant; it more or less tasted like fiery cough syrup. But he did his best to act nonchalant about it.
"Well then, I suppose that would be our cue," Hermione said admirably, doing the best she could to act like she didn't fear the flaming liquid sitting in front of her. But Harry knew better. Despite her apparent tipsiness and exhibited lack of formality, she was scared stiff to follow suit. But, not wishing to be outdone by Ron, she dropped the glass into the mulled mead and drank the entire thing down.
Harry began to feel the effects immediately. Not only was his head spinning now, but he had the sudden urge to admit all his past sins to Ginny and ask her to marry him.
Luckily, Al picked this moment to jump into the conversation. He strode over with about five women in tow. Some looked like Auror trainees, the others—he really couldn't get a consistent enough thought going to finish that sentence.
"Harry!" Al said loudly. He had obviously been enjoying himself as well.
"Hey—do you guys remember Al? He's my partner," Harry stated proudly, clapping the man on the back. Hermione just grinned and nodded (Harry wasn't positive she was listening to a thing he said) and Ron didn't reply.
"Hey Al," Ginny said, grinning.
Wait a second....
"You two know each other?" Harry asked. Maybe it wasn't so strange—they did work on the same floor.
"He was assigned as my training partner while you were—erm—gone," Ginny explained.
Hopefully he doesn't know her as well as he knows many of the other female trainees.
"Oh." Harry stated dully.
"Yup," Al continued, "this woman had bats flying out my nose twice a week—she's a right good dueler."
Harry snorted with laughter, "Or you're just incredibly untalented."
Ginny punched him playfully in the arm. Before she could pull her hand back, though, he grabbed her wrist and twisted her body around so that her arms were crossed in front of her and her back was pressed against his chest. This was partially due to reflexes and partially due to… something else. Electricity (aided by alcohol) cursed through his insides at the feeling of her body against his own. Al waggled his eyebrows a few times and grinned broadly at him. Ginny didn't fight him; moreover she let herself relax in his grip. He responded by leaning his chin into her hair. It smelled like strawberries. He wanted to whip her around right then and kiss her, but somehow decided that her brother, who happened to be standing two feet away, would not appreciate that. Under normal circumstances, this situation would never play itself out. Harry would have been too nervous, too bashful to touch her like this in public (or at all!). But holding her against him, feeling her warm body made his insides twist with a desire he had never known. It wasn't like he hadn't ever been this close to a woman—even though he had kissed a few in his short twenty-one years. But Ginny was different, even if he couldn't quite remember why at the moment (the sudden hot sensation pulsating through his lower half was taking away whatever brain power he seemed to have left).
"Well, when you have a free minute, there are a few people over there (he jabbed a finger behind him) who want to hear the story about the—err—stripper (the last word came out in a sort of cough. Unfortunately it was audible)."
Ron looked shocked, "the WHAT?"
Harry let go of Ginny and scratched his head, "absolutely not, I am DEFINITELY not intoxicated enough to relive that particular horror story!"
Ginny turned to face him, an amused expression set upon her lovely features, "Harry, I think we would all like to hear this one."
"Loads of thanks, mate," he said dryly. "You know, I do have quite a few embarrassing stories we could talk about which revolve around you."
"Aw come on, Potter! It's hilarious… a definite party story. I told you we'd eventually have to tell someone."
Harry rolled his eyes.
"Besides, you think the lot of them will remember it in the morning?"
"Fine—just give it another hour or so. I want to make sure I'm inebriated enough not to remember it tomorrow."
This reply seemed to satisfy Al, as he nodded and began to walk away. But, just as he got to the edge of the bar, he called over his shoulder, "You'll have to show them the tattoo!"
Harry shot a look up at his three friends, who were all staring at him with wide eyed expressions.
"You—you have a tattoo?" Ron asked incredulously.
Harry nodded. Wonderful.
"Wait—why haven't we ever seen it?" Ginny wondered out loud.
"I never show it to anyone," he said simply, before taking a long gulp out of the butterbeer that had just been set down in front of him.
"I want to see it!" Hermione cried.
I'll kill you for this, Al.
"Where is it?" Ginny giggled (the alcohol was slowly beginning to work through her system).
"On my back—hey, you lot can hear the story later, alright?" He attempted. They all seemed to be shooting daggers out of their eyes. "I—erm—keep a charm on it. That's why you've never seen it."
"You keep a charm on it?" Hermione was unsuccessfully trying to stifle her giggles with a hand.
"YES!" he shouted, feeling exasperated. Was it that difficult to understand?
From behind the four of them, they heard someone scream, "EXPELLIARMUS!" Immediately Harry's mind jumped to conclusions, thinking they were all under attack. He quickly decided it was daft of him to get so sloshed, especially when there were still dark wizards loose. He silently followed Ron through a mass of people toward the noise.
In front of him Ron started laughing. Hard.
As soon as Harry got to the edge of the crowd he realized he was not coming face to face with a Death Eater. Seamus Finnigan was completely inebriated and staggering about with half of a glowing wand in his hand. Nearby stood the life size statue of Harry, now wandless.
"Bloody hell, Finnigan!" Ron hooted. People in the crowd started to laugh.
"What'd you do?!" came Parvati's voice from behind them.
"Git insulted my mum—so I stole his wand!" he beamed proudly, holding up the broken object in triumph.
"Er—good job then, Seamus," Harry snorted.
"Wait a tick—I'm seeing… THERE'S TWO HARRY'S!" he shouted to no one in particular.
"I think someone needs to help him floo home," Ron announced.
After the laughter died down (and Dean Thomas helped get Seamus into the nearest fireplace) everyone went back to their respective conversations.
Harry was about to go off to find Al when he felt Ginny grab his hand and intertwine their fingers. She stood on her tiptoes slightly and leaned her lips against his ear. "Dance with me," she said softly. He wanted to protest, to tell her that he was a terrible dancer and she should ask someone who was actually coordinated. But when he turned to say all this out loud, he saw something in her eyes that made him stop. Desire. Her big brown eyes sparkled as they looked into his. A slight smile played on her lips. Everything he had been thinking over the last few days about their relationship disappeared and he found himself gripping her hand and leading her out onto the dance floor.
A slow, melodious song was playing. The nearby couples were laughing and talking to one another with extreme ease. Harry led her into the outskirts of the dancers and put a hand on her waist.
Harry gulped.
She twisted an arm around his shoulder. It felt like hot water was shooting over his entire body. He decided his face was probably as red as her hair. He took a chance and laced his fingers into her other hand. Ginny leaned in closer and rested their clasped hands on his chest.
Oh Merlin this feels good.
It had been so long since he felt a woman's touch—well, touches like Ginny's. His muscles relaxed as they swayed slowly to the music, back and forth. A few other couples were watching them, most likely wondering if Harry was seeing this woman. For once, he didn't mind who was watching—he was drunk and happy and holding someone he'd spent years dreaming about.
o-o-o-o
Ginny breathed a huge sigh against Harry's neck. Opening her eyes slightly, she noticed the gooseflesh playing atop his skin.
Good to know I'm getting a reaction. True, we're both feeling the affects of a night of alcohol, but don't true emotions come out when you have no control over them? Mine sure do.
She found herself staring at the evident muscles that were visible from underneath his t-shirt. This was a far cry from the skinny, messy-haired boy she'd followed around at Hogwarts. Auror training had done quite a bit to toughen him up. She nuzzled her face into the nape of his neck and her forehead brushed against his chin ever so slightly. His five-o-clock shadow was scratchy, but extremely sensual. He felt so—manly? Was that really the word she was looking for?
A few minutes passed by and the two of them just rocked back and forth. Each minute served to further close the gap between their two bodies. In no time at all, her torso was pressed against his. She could feel every twitch, every muscle, perhaps even every heartbeat.
Oh Merlin this feels good.
xxxxxxxxflashbackxxxxxxxxx
Hogwarts: Harry's seventh year
It had all started with the article in the Daily Prophet in early January. Rita Skeeter hadn't broken her promise to Hermione; she had waited an entire year before writing anything (outside of the Quibbler article, of course). Unfortunately for Harry (and the Weasleys in the long run) she had not used that time to rethink her ethics.
It was five minutes before Draco Malfoy waltzed by and tossed a newspaper on the Gryffindor table, grinning maliciously at Harry. "I see you've managed to steal a spot in the headline already this year, Potter," he had sneered before stalking off with Crabbe and Goyle, leaving the Great Hall.
Harry's Honey
Harry James Potter, 17, has recently been spotted in the company of a new sort of friend. Known to thousands as "The-Boy-Who-Lived" and the one who ended Voldemort's first rise to power, Potter has spent the last few years relatively unattached. Daily Prophet journalist, Rita Skeeter, reports that he has finally settled down with Hogwarts's own Ginerva Molly Weasley, daughter of Ministry worker Arthur Weasley. Ginevra also happens to be the younger sister of Harry's best friend, Ronald Bilius Weasley, 17.
Ginny, as she is called by friends and family, is one of Hogwarts's top students, a chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and part of the elite group known as 'Dumbledore's Army.' Lately, she seems to be keeping company with the famous. She and Potter are rarely seen out of one-another's company and have become very close, as you can probably see from the photo exclusive (attached was a picture, to Harry's horror, of Ginny and him cuddling under the bleachers after a Quidditch match)!
Harry Potter has previously been linked with Hermione Jane Granger, 17, a Muggle born in her last year at Hogwarts and Cho Charise Chang, 18, now a designer for Pointed Hat! An anonymous source close to the couple says they are very much in love. Hearts are breaking all over the wizarding world as one of the most attractive up-and-coming bachelors is snatched up. The staff here at the Daily Prophet, however, would like to wish the young couple the best of luck!
Ron, who hadn't been privy to the information doled easily out by the newspaper, was furious with both Harry and Ginny for nearly a week afterward. Hermione had dutifully tried to explain that he wasn't angry that they were dating but because they had hidden it from everyone. Harry had soon thereafter forced Ron to sit down and talk about his feelings.
o-o-o-o
"Ron! I'm bloody sorry I didn't tell you... but we never talk about these things anyway," he yelled.
"That's not a good enough excuse, Harry! What—are you embarrassed about dating her?!" Ron was slowly turning a livid shade of red.
"OF COURSE NOT! You're a daft bastard—I love your little sister!" He hadn't meant to say that out loud.
"WHAT?!" (He looked completely shocked… and rightly so. His best mate had just confessed to loving Ginny Weasley).
Harry sighed and fell backward onto his bed. "I'm in love with Ginny."
"Oh."
"Yeah." Was Ron going to punch him now?
"Good."
Okay, that was unexpected.
"Yeah?"
"Of course, mate." He pulled a chair out from a nearby desk and sat down across from Harry. "Look—I really can't... nobody else would be good enough for her."
"Thanks. I guess—I really didn't know how to tell you." This was completely true, he had wanted to tell him. But how are you supposed to explain to your best mate that you're snogging his sister?
"So, how long has this been going on?"
"Dunno—since November I guess." He thought about it for a minute, "Maybe it was the game against Hufflepuff."
"You've been snogging my sister fo--?"
"I'M NOT SNOGG—we haven't...." Okay, so this wasn't exactly the truth. It wasn't like the two of them were sneaking off in the middle of the night with his invisibility cloak. They weren't Seamus and Lavender by any means. Harry still considered himself to be just as awkward with girls as he was fifth year. He leaned forward and sighed, "I'm just worried. Now that everyone knows—what if he comes after her... or your family? If anything happened to any of you I would—."
"Bugger that, it'll be fine, Harry. We're at Hogwarts—there isn't anywhere safer. And mum and dad can take care of themselves. My brothers too—well... okay maybe not Percy but he's probably a Death Eater himself."
Suddenly the dormitory door banged violently open admitting a panting, red-faced Hermione. "RON WEASLEY, DON'T YOU—Oh... er—hello."
"Bloody hell Hermione!"
"Ron, language!"
"Did you—erm—need something?" Harry asked, eyeing her carefully.
She put her hand on her hip and made a loud, annoyed huffing sound, "Neville said the two of you were having a blazing row. I thought I'd come up here to moderate. But—it looks like you're getting along just fine, yeah?"
Ron glanced at Harry quickly before nodding an affirmation. He jabbed a finger in his friend's direction and said, "Harry here thinks the Death Eaters are going to kill my family since he's dating Ginny."
"I'm more worried about Ginny!" Harry argued, rolling his eyes indignantly. "They could apparate here and kidnap her—just becau…"
Hermione interrupted him with a low growling noise. She shifted her weight and sighed loudly, "HOW many TIMES do I have to tell you?! You CAN'T apparate anywhere NEAR Hogwarts. Honestly! It's our 7th Year, haven't either of you read Hogwarts, a History yet?
o-o-o-o
In the end, Ron had been wrong. Five Death Eaters, led by Rodolphus Lestrange, attacked the Burrow on Valentine's Day of the same year taking Bill, Percy, and Mr. Weasley hostage. Voldemort had contacted Harry via neural message (he still hadn't properly learned Occulmency) threatening to kill them unless Harry gave himself up. Luckily, Mad-Eye Moody was able to discover their whereabouts in a short amount of time. Arthur and Percy had been delivered safely home.
Bill was still missing.
That's when Harry broke it off with Ginny.
Xxxxxxxxxxxend flashbackxxxxxxxxxx
Remus Lupin made his way through the flocks of people, carefully trying not to knock drinks over or step on toes. Midway through a large group of laughing young Aurors he saw something that made his stomach drop to his knees, his heart skip a beat, and a large bulge settle somewhere in his trachea.
James and Lily Potter were swaying slowly to the soft music, holding one another tightly. Lily's eyes were closed and she was resting her head on James' shoulder. His back was to Remus, but the messy-haired man had one arm wrapped lovingly around his wife's waist and the fingers of his other hand were tangled in hers. As Remus looked on, James nuzzled his nose into her bright red hair. Lily smiled sweetly and opened her eyes.
Her eyes were brown.
Remus was torn out of his state of shock. Deep down he had known it was impossible for the Potters to be dancing together out there. He took a deep breath and tried in vain to regain his composure. They are dead, he muttered to himself. Most of the time he refused to let himself think about his old friends. It was heart wrenching to look at pictures or read notes from their Hogwarts days; especially those concerning the Marauders. He had spent long hours convincing himself the pain would eventually dull. During the years that Peter was 'dead' and Sirius was in Azkaban, Remus had traveled Europe trying to forget. Until this moment, he'd never understood what this meant.
He had never let himself forget.
A few times in the past twenty-one years he had thought about the end of the war. The dream was always the same. They were laughing; Sirius would be setting off Filibuster fireworks while Lily bounced Harry on her knee, James would be explaining the finer points of Quidditch to an utterly confused Peter. It was always the same though—the Marauders were together; alive and well.
That isn't how it turned out said the voice in his head. He had spent long hours after Sirius died wishing his own end would come. Three of his best friends were dead and the other a traitor. These were the same people who had undergone Animagus transformations at the tender age of 15 so he wouldn't be alone in his werewolf state. His friends had been brave and loyaland none of them lived long enough even to watch Harry grow up. Remus took another deep breath and forced the salty tears back. The time to cry was long past.
It's time to bury the dead and come to terms with it. It's time to celebrate the lives they lived and move on.
First though, he needed to talk to Harry.
Once again he looked at the dancing couple. Harry looked so content. It was fitting, wasn't it? The woman Harry had fallen in love with was almost the exact replica of Harry's own mother. With their eyes closed and their faces partially hidden by shadows, one could easily mistake the dancing couple for Lily and James as he himself had done not moments before.
Deciding not to interrupt them, Remus set off to find Tonks. He would talk to Harry another time.
o-o-o-o
Ron followed George through the heavily intoxicated crowd toward the mildly secluded adjoining room. Apparently, the twins were planning some sort of interactive game for a few members of the D.A. As the two brothers passed the dance floor, George glanced back at Ron and jerked his head to the right. Ron followed his gaze and saw his little sister happily engulfed in the arms of his best friend. Harry must have felt him staring because not a second later he looked up and grinned sheepishly. Ron wagged his eyebrows and continued to follow George through the dancing couples.
He rarely attempted to broach the subject of Harry's love life, mostly because over the past few years it had been relatively nonexistent. Harry cared more about getting through Auror training and finding a 4 way to defeat Voldemort than finding a decent female companion. Ron assumed part of the reason for this was because Harry and Ginny had ended things extremely abruptly during his 7th year. The entire Weasley clan had wasted a considerable amount of effort pleading with the couple to rethink the end of their relationship. But it was a pointless task trying to convince Harry that Bill's disappearance wasn't his fault. And Ginny had simply repeated over and over that if they were meant to be together it would all work out in the end. Ron believed neither of them ever really got over the other. Perhaps now that the war was officially over they would be able to figure things out.
The walls of the lounge area were covered from floor to ceiling with odd solar system-inspired wallpaper. The stars twinkled and a half moon was floating near the middle of the ceiling. Across the floor were strewn about twenty moon-rock shaped bean bag chairs. Loads of his fellow D.A. members were squished comfortably in their seats. Most of them waved at him in greeting. Hermione was amongst them, holding a bottle of Chocolate Pensieve and laughing along with something Parvati and Lavender were saying. Her thick brown hair fell loosely about her shoulders and her cheeks were the color of rose petals. Most likely due to the alcohol.
"Ron!" she cried, waving him over frantically. "We're all playing a game! It's loads of fun, will you join?"
He smiled and crossed the room to settle into the beanbag chair next to hers. Ron's head was no longer buzzing from intoxication; he hadn't had anything to drink in the past half hour or so. Hermione, on the other hand, was probably going to be in for a rough night.
"For those of you who just joined us, these (he held up a small, wrapped piece of candy) are Tell-all-Taffies!" Fred stated proudly.
"They have a small trace of Veritaserum in them. The truth serum inside lasts only until the taffy has completely dissolved…" George continued.
"Or swallowed," Fred interrupted.
"Yes, thank you Fred—or swallowed, forcing you to answer one or two questions completely honestly."
"So, to continue—Katie, it's your turn to ask someone a question."
Katie Bell seemed to be deep in thought. After a minute of silence she leaned over toward Alicia Spinnet and whispered something in her ear. The two girls broke out in fits of giggles. "Alright, Lee," she began, grabbing a piece of candy out of the basket and tossing it in his direction, "During your seventh year, tell us who really dumped two pounds of Octopus tentacles into Montague's cauldron during the N.E.W.T. examination."
Lee Jordan, who was furiously sucking on his pink taffy, choked for a second and turned beat red. "It wath me," he managed to say despite having candy stuck to the roof of his mouth.
"Right good job, mate!" shouted Fred.
"Finished our noble work, you did," George agreed, pretending to wipe tears from his eyes. Everyone in the room laughed happily along with them, clapping Lee on the back.
Hermione abruptly broke out in fits of giggles. Ron raised his eyebrows questioningly but this only made her clutch her stomach and crumple out of her beanbag chair making odd squeaking noises. "EFIW…!" she heaved.
"What?!" queried Lavender. She too seemed to be catching Hermione's bug but was desperately trying to conceal her giggles.
"S—snor…" She wheezed, "MAI!"
"You're quite funny when drunk, you know," Parvati hiccupped.
"Oct—octopus tentacles would've…" More laughter, "turned him into a—."
"Gigantic man-eating slug—it was very amusing to watch him squirm after the Potion's examiner in the Great Hall," Lee observed keenly.
The room erupted in deafening laughter.
The next half hour was spent in the same fashion. Ron was fondly reminded of their days in Gryffindor tower, laughing with ease. There were only a few minute differences between the Hogwarts parties and this one. The obvious one being the legal consumption of alcohol; aside from that, the seemingly mindless chatter was upbeat. There was no discussion of Muggle disappearances or family members being murdered. This new air that surrounded them was placid and enjoyable.
"Alright, alright, calm down everyone!" Fred was heard saying. "I believe our next question goes to the illustrious Hermione Granger."
Ron nudged Hermione, who was curled up like a cat in his lap. She was looking worn but smiled nonetheless.
"Don't they make an adorable pair?" George slurred dramatically.
"Entirely." Harry had just entered the room, Ginny at his side.
"Harry! Ginny! So glad the two of you could—err—unwind yourselves and join us," Fred smirked.
"Shut it, Fred," Ginny said simply. Before George could comment, she whipped around and wagged a finger in his direction also. "That goes for you too, dear brother. We were only dancing!"
Harry plopped down in Hermione's vacant chair and leaned back. "So, what sort of trouble are the two of you planning now?"
George quickly explained the rules of the game to the new participants. Harry, Ron noted, seemed extremely reluctant to join in. This was most likely due to the fact that he was very tight lipped about certain past events. After a few minutes of obnoxious banter with the twins, during which, the group became somewhat larger with the addition of a handful of people (including Remus and Tonks), he finally agreed.
"So," stated George over the loud whispers, "Hermione." He tossed her a taffy which she sucked daintily through her lips. "I think we would all like to know… how serious are you about my dear brother, Ronald?"
The room became deathly quiet.
If Hermione was flustered she did a right good job of hiding it. "Fairly serious," she said pointedly.
Ron and Harry shot one another a satisfied smile. She had, after all, answered the question.
"Come on, we want to know DETAILS!" Lavender pressed.
"Will we be calling you Mrs. Ronald Bilius Weasley anytime soon?" Alicia asked innocently.
"You can call me that anytime you like," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes.
"I think Ickle-Ronnie-kins is hiding something!" Fred hammered on. He obviously wasn't about to let the subject go. Ron was furtively trying to think up diversionary tactics when Ginny spoke up.
"I think it's Hermione's turn to ask a question!" she cried, shooting a meaningful glare in Fred's direction.
"Hmm—okay. Harry!" she grinned mischievously.
Harry paled.
Angelina made to throw a tell-all-taffy in his direction but Hermione stopped her. "No, I think this one can be done without the candy. I want to hear the stripper story."
"Er—I think it'd be a good idea to have Al here for that one."
"Oh, don't you worry Harry—I'll go get him!" Tonks said quickly, a devilish smile playing about her lips. She obviously wanted to hear the story as much as the next person.
"Wonderful, thanks Nymphadora," he shot back venomously.
Ron could tell he wasn't really mad (lack of shouting being the biggest clue). But Harry seemed wary of reliving whatever events this story encompassed. Still though, he couldn't help but join in. "So you're serious about having a tattoo?"
o-o-o-o
Allard Baldwin was leaning haughtily against the edge of the brightly lit bar, mulled mead in hand. He was in the middle of an intense flirting match with a beautiful, curly haired woman; Abby... was that what she had said her name was? Maybe it was Aggy—that had to be it. He had realized a few minutes back that he hadn't really been listening to a thing she was saying. This was normal for Al, though. After taking another long drink from his mug he flashed another charming smile.
"Oy! Al!" came a familiar voice from behind him.
Turning around he saw a thin witch approaching. She had short brown hair and a huge grin plastered on her cute face. "Hey Tonks," he said smoothly, still trying to impress the woman standing next to him.
"Hey—come with me," she said, reaching a hand out and giving one of his hands a little tug.
He raised his eyebrows questioningly. Couldn't she see that he was in the middle of something? "Is this a matter of life or death?" he asked.
She rolled her eyes dramatically and put a hand on her hip. "The only way I'm finally going to hear that story you've been boasting about for the past year is if you come to the back room."
"HA!" he shouted, throwing a fist triumphantly into the air. "Potter's finally going to tell it. I've been waiting forever for this day." He turned to his female companion who was now scowling at him with a hint of exasperation. He decided he should invite her along. "Mandy—did you want to join me?"
The aforementioned preposition didn't get the reaction he was expecting. She replied in a huffy sort of voice, "It's Nancy, and maybe another time."
"Was it something I said?" he asked Tonks dejectedly.
"Isn't it always?" she asked innocently.
He returned the smug expression and followed her toward the lounge area. He grabbed the hand of an attractive blonde Auror trainee (coincidentally, her name was Trini—okay, he thought it was hilarious). She giggled a goodbye to a few friends and let him pull her toward the back.
Once inside the next room he glanced around at the pink, happy faces. He recognized most of them from the few D.A. meetings he had attended with Harry. During the last few weeks of Voldemort's reign, the Aurors had all put in time working with Dumbledore's Army. He knew Ron and Hermione were close friends of Harry's—he had spoken often of them. Furthermore, Ron worked at the Ministry in the Department for Magical Games and Sports and Hermione in the Committee for Experimental Charms. Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson were superb chasers for the Montrose Magpies, Fred and George Weasley owned Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, Susan Bones was an intern at St. Mungo's, and Luna Lovegood wrote strange articles for The Quibbler.
"Hey, Harry—I was just thinking…" he started to say.
"There's a shocker." He smirked back.
Al barked a laugh in his friend's direction and continued, "I was thinking that it's probably not a good idea to have all the Aurors here getting sloshed."
"Don't worry about that, Baldwin!" Tonks said, slapping him harshly on the shoulder, "Mad-Eye's keeping shop. He was mumbling something about 'Damn kids... skiving off their duties,' when I left earlier."
Al nodded and took a seat across from Harry. He leaned backward in the beanbag and Trini sat down near his feet.
"Alright," Harry said after Al got himself settled. "Where shall I start?"
"The assignment!" he said, crossing his hands behind his neck and leaning into them. It was always entertaining to listen to Harry tell stories--especially when he was completely embarrassed.
"Well—I can't tell you everything about it because... well... it was supposed to be a secret operation. But, it was last year about this time—October or so. Al (he jabbed a finger in Al's direction) and I were poly-juicing as Lucius and Draco Malfoy when they were apprehended the first time for being followers of Voldemort."
"They went to Azkaban?" Hermione asked.
"No—we never got that far with the evidence. They were just—err—hidden away for a bit to give us time to uncover a few secrets," Al answered swiftly. He wanted Harry to get to the good part.
"Wait—so how many times has Lucius been in Azkaban?" Luna asked, apparently stumped.
"Dunno—three or four times. He's never actually been convicted of anything," Al said.
"So anyway, we arranged a meeting with a woman we THOUGHT was a secretary of some sort for the Malfoy family," Harry continued.
Al snorted. "Wouldn't have made that great of a secretary."
"Not at all." Harry glanced around the room before taking a deep breath and smiling at Al. "Apparently she offers a different kind of service for the Malfoys."
"They have a professional Hooker?" gaped Ron.
"Would you expect better?" Angelina piped up, "This is Draco Malfoy we're talking about."
"Yeah, well—I guess that thought didn't even occur to me. So the plan was this—I was supposed to keep the—erm—secretary occupied while Al here searched the mansion for any sort of files or clues," Harry said. He was beginning to seem vaguely uncomfortable. "She—kept… err… advancing at me and I wasn't sure what to do so I tried to keep her talking. But that didn't go over well... wasn't that much of a conversationalist. Meanwhile, Al was supposed to be searching the Malfoy's office but had found something better to occupy his time with."
"It was for the good of our mission!" he cried indignantly. Okay, maybe that last part wasn't so truthful. He had been searching until a certain… distraction entered.
"You were trying to seduce some cousin or niece of the Malfoys!" Harry protested.
"I was trying to see if she knew anything useful!"
"You were trying to get in her pants!"
"Weren't you still in Poly-Juice form?" asked Remus Lupin. He had an amused smile plastered on his face.
"Well—yeah... but I played a very convincing Lucius Malfoy!"
"I'm sure you did, Baldwin, but that isn't the point of the story," Harry laughed. "While he was entertaining blood relatives I was trying not to sabotage the mission or lose my virginity. And let me tell you, she was putting up a right good fight!"
This statement was followed by raucous laughter from the other people in the room. One of the twins (Al wasn't sure which) made a comment which turned Harry quite pink.
"Hey, leave him alone... it was a year ago!" the other twin retorted. Once again these comments were followed by high pitched giggles.
"Yeah, our Harry is Witch Weekly's #1 Bachelor!" Alicia Spinnet added. "I'm sure he's not a virgin anymore!"
Harry turned a fierce shade of magenta and looked down at his hands. Al grinned at his reaction. He knew Harry had dated a few people nonexclusively during the few years he had been out of Hogwarts. Whenever Al would bring up the topic of Harry's love life, he would clam up. The subject of his own short relationships, however, was broached quite often. Harry insisted Al had some sort of commitment complex. Al insisted Harry was pining for some lost love. If Harry had lost his virginity at any point in the past year he sure as hell hadn't told Al about it.
"Just leave him alone, you lot!" Ron said fiercely, obviously protecting his best friend. "It's his business… besides, I want to hear the rest of the story!"
Ginny, who was sitting next to Harry, seemed to recoil a bit. Perhaps she was the one whom they were referring to?
Harry cleared his throat. "Well, I lamely suggested that we do something else and she and Malfoy apparently had plans to—go get a tattoo later on that day. I guess she has some sort of discount card…"
"In other words she was sleeping with the manager." Al stated. The group laughed.
"Right—well… I told her that we needed to go find my father first and she seemed to think that was rather odd. So instead I cursed Allard Baldwin's name and swore that if I saw him again I would have a right nasty hex ready for him." Everyone laughed as he continued. "So anyhow, we set off to this place and the whole time I was trying to think of a way out of it."
"What was her name?" asked Katie Bell. She was accepting a new Droobles Best Bubblegum Rum from a heavyset waitress.
"Dunno—Brandy or Mindy or something. She looked like a grindylow on a bad hair day," he replied.
"Well, in school Malfoy couldn't get anyone better than pug-face Parkinson," Ron laughed.
"Ron—that's terrible! She wasn't all bad!" Hermione argued. Evidently the buzz that had been plaguing her for the past few hours was beginning to wear off.
"She's in Azkaban Hermione," he shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"ANYWAY," Harry pressed on, "We got there and I tried saying that there wasn't anything that caught my eye and she looked at me even more strangely. I guess this was a previously set up thing. So I tried one more time to raise Al on the telefloo and—sucked it up."
"You went through with it?" Angelina asked, in awe.
Al was expecting this reaction although he still wasn't sure if Harry would show it to them. He had only seen his tattoo once—after the fact when he was in a blind rage. The story was quite humorous now but definitely hadn't been at the time; especially when Harry had tattooed the word 'wanker' on Al's forehead and refused to take it off for an entire week.
"I had to." He said simply.
"So…" Luna started to say.
"Can we see it?" finished Alicia.
"Err…"
"C'mon Harry!" cried a few people.
Harry blushed and nodded. He stood, rather awkwardly, and turned so his back was to the crowd. Taking one last, defeated breath he lifted his shirt over his head. A few of the girls around the circle tried stifling giggles (including Trini, still leaning against Al's legs) at the sight of Harry's bare back. At twenty-one, his body was in far better shape then it had been at Hogwarts. The Aurors endured daily training sessions and even though Harry had spent the last few months incapacitated, he was still a far shot from the lanky 14-year-old Gryffindor Al had watched compete in the Tri-Wizard tournament.
Harry took his wand out of his back pocket (yes, he still kept it there despite Moody's constant warnings about losing a buttock) and pointed it near the middle of his back. "Finite Incantatem." Almost immediately a red glow shot from his wand and settled in a patch between his shoulder blades. The light sat and shimmered for a minute before disappearing just as suddenly, leaving behind a walnut sized golden ball with two little wings sprouting out of either end; Harry's golden snitch.
"Thank Merlin Malfoy has the same interests as you," giggled Parvati.
Harry spun back around. "Never say that again!"
"Harry! It isn't that bad!" Hermione said soothingly.
"Not at all… in fact—it's rather sexy," Padma added.
Harry turned to Ron, looking for his best friend's opinion. Ron just shrugged, "I agree with Hermione—besides, loads of people have them."
Harry seemed a little relieved by this reaction. "Anyway—that's the story."
"Wait—what were you doing all that time?" Ginny asked, turning abruptly toward Al.
"Discovering top secret information imperative to the Malfoy case," Al replied quickly with as much emphasis as he could muster.
"In other words he was snogging some second cousin of Narcissa's in Lucius's body," Harry quipped.
"Something about that just sounds so wrong..." Ron sniggered lightly.
Glancing down at the beautiful woman sitting at his feet, Al decided that if he had any chance at all of taking her home that night, he would have to nox the conversation. Seeing no other option, he interrupted Ron. "Well, as fun as this is," Al said, rising to his feet and bringing Trini with him, "I am going to have to cut the jeers short. See you on Monday, Potter—and you, Miss Weasley."
A chorus of goodnights followed him out of the small room.
o-o-o-o
Not to long after Al had departed, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny said their own goodbyes.
Ginny had been acting different toward Harry for about an hour; Harry guessed it was because of the conversation they had been having. He had tried not to answer when Alicia had made that comment. Everyone that knew Harry knew he was a terrible liar. He always blushed and stuttered. Besides, he thought to himself, I'm twenty-one! It's not that big of a deal! Ginny obviously felt very different. As he walked up the stairs toward his bedroom at the headquarters, he tried to get her to talk to him. Part of Harry wanted to explain things and the other part had firmly decided it was none of her business. Torn, he settled on just saying goodnight. It had been a long, alcohol filled evening and the last thing he wanted to do was get into a row before bed.
"Well… night," he said lamely. Potter, you're a daft bastard. "I—er—had fun."
"Right… (extended pause) goodnight." And with a flip of her short hair, she strode the rest of the way down the hallway, swaying her hips as she went.
Harry ran a hand through his tangled black hair and sighed. Across the hall, Ron opened his bedroom door. "How'd it go, mate?"
"Dunno—she's not really talking to me," he admitted sadly.
"Yeah, well… right surprise for her, yeah?" Ron asked, leaning against the door frame.
"I didn't mean for her to find out—or anyone." This was completely true—years of being tight lipped about his love life had left him unable to discuss it with even the closest of friends, save Ron.
"Well—I can talk to her if you'd like…"
"S'alright, Ron. She'll come around eventually."
"Maybe you should tell h--."
"No. I don't want to talk about it. She wouldn't understand." Harry opened his mouth to say something else but thought better of it and closed it once again. "Well… g'night."
"Night, Harry."
Harry retreated into his room and shut the door behind him. His first day back in the public eye of wizarding society hadn't been all bad. Work had gone along just fine and the party had been quite entertaining. As he pulled on his pajamas, Harry saw the untouched stack of mail on his dresser. He had forgotten about it completely. Hedwig was delivering his post to the Weasley's house until he moved out of Grimmauld Place. Oh well, he thought, I'll look at this weekend.
He pulled off his glasses and climbed into bed, silently hoping for dreamless sleep.
I decided to drop a little characterization hint. I'm not sure if anyone is even trying to figure out who this woman is, but here's the meaning of her last name.
Carden – From the fortress of Black
