Chapter 2: Rehab

The hag led Harry to a building. Before she pulled him through the door, Harry managed to read the words "Rehabilitation Clinic" engraved on the outer wall.

The hag held a whispered conversation with a witch behind a black desk, whom Harry assumed was the receptionist. After a short while, she turned to Harry, and said, "You're in room 23-A. You share it with another addict, but I'm sure that you'll get along fine." Harry resignedly made his was up a flight of stairs and down the hall until he saw "23-A" embossed upon the door of a room. He pushed open the door, and gasped. Sitting on a bed was Ron, who was smoking something that looked suspiciously like marijuana. Harry entered, expecting Ron to greet him with surprise. However, Ron did not even glance up from his marijuana, for there was now no doubt that that was what it was. Harry realized that Ron was completely high, and that he would not be able to communicate with him, although he wondered how Ron had managed to get a hold on drugs in a rehab clinic. He walked over the the bed which was not occupied by Ron, and lay down on it, making a mental note to question Ron when he was sane. Harry, although he was not too tired, fell asleep breathing in the fumes floating over from Ron's bed.

When Harry awoke, he at first wondered where he was. He looked around the room, saw Ron passed out on the floor, and then recalled all that had happened in the last day. He looked outside to see that it was morning. "Goodness," he thought, "I've slept through the entire afternoon and night." Harry stoop up and stretched. He then walked over to Ron and kicked him in the knee, hard. Ron started, and looked up.

"Harry?" he asked, puzzled.

"Yes, Ron. Now get up off the floor and tell me how you are managing to smoke marijuana in a rehab clinic," Harry said coldly.

Ron stood up shakily, and began, "You'd better not tell the other blokes how I'm doing it, though. They wouldn't let me."

"I promise that I won't," Harry lied. "Now tell me."

"Well," Ron explained, "I've found a secret passage out of the building." When Harry looked inquisitively at him, he continued, "It's in the WC. Now that I think about it, it's sort of like the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Except, you don't need to speak Parseltongue."

"How do you get in, then?" Harry asked Ron.

"I was getting to that. You put your hand on the underside of the leftmost sink and say, 'Exclusively trolls and buttered rolls,'" Ron said slowly. "Then, the sink disappears and there's an opening into the wall."

"How on earth did you figure out what to say!" Harry asked

incredulously.

"I guess I was going a little crazy and just mumbling things randomly when it opened in front of me." Ron admitted. "I worked out which words had opened it and wrote them down on a scrap of parchment so I wouldn't forget." Harry nodded.

Ron then looked at Harry questioningly. "I appreciate that you visited me, but how did you find out where my rehab clinic was? Even Mum doesn't know, not that she cares to." Ron did not look too upset over the fact that his mother did not approve of his antics.

Harry mumbled that he wasn't visiting.

"You're an addict too?" Ron whispered.

"No," Harry explained, rolling his eyes. "A hag brought me here. I swear, she's the one who's sixes and sevens!"

"So do you need succour for your problem, too?" Ron asked, not getting it.

"Stop being a prat!" said Harry. "I don't have a problem!"

"Admitting you have a problem is the first step to fixing it," said Ron sagely.

"Don't make me hex you!" Harry said warningly.

"They let you keep your wand?" Ron asked in wonder. "They took mine away immediately."

"Of course I still have my wand," Harry said indignantly. He felt around in his robe, but was unable to find it. "That's odd." he thought. Suddenly it dawned on him.

"Blimey! They must've taken it while I was asleep!" Harry quipped in aggravation.

Ron chuckled. "Que pena... so now what are you going to do, mate? Admit to your addiction?"

"Actually, no; I think I'll head over to the WC and make my way out of here," Harry replied bluntly, turning around and walking to the door.

"Without your wand?" Ron remarked, his eyebrows raised. Harry glared at him, and asked,

"Alright, where do they keep people's wands?"