The first thing that Harry noticed when he opened his eyes was the throbbing of his head. With a groan, he snapped his eyes back shut. It was too bright. Wait, too bright? One eye opened again and darted from side to side trying to determine why it was so bright. The bedroom that he shared with Ron wasn't this bright, ever. Raising his head, Harry tried to get a better look at his surroundings; this was a bad idea. The pounding in his head increased and he shifted, trying to get the pain to stop. But the only thing he got was a mouth full of floor; he shifted right off the living room couch that he was sprawled on. "Great." He mumbled into the floor. "Bloody hell." He pushed himself up, until he was leaning against the couch. "Ron?" He, slowly, turned his head from side to side trying to locate his friend. "Ronny?" He tried again but was met with silence. He let his eyes drift shut once again when his stomach threatened to rebel against his movements.
Ron groaned, hearing his name but he couldn't bring himself to answer. He felt like death or rather he wished he was dead. His head was pounding and his mouth tasted like cotton. "Wha..." He placed his hands on the side of his head and winced at his own voice; he thought it was very loud. Blinking, slowly, he managed to get himself set up right. "How did I...?" He trailed off and crawled out of the closet. Looking down at his feet, once he got himself standing, he sighed. "Now where has my shoe gotten to?" He stumbled down the hall in search of Harry. Finally, he found him in the living room. "Do you know where my shoe is?" He asked, stupidly.
Harry winced at the loudness of Ron's voice and covered his ears. "I'm not talking to you until you stop yelling." He whispered out and managed to pull himself up onto the couch. "Your shoe?" He tilted his head to look over at his friend, who was indeed, missing one of his shoes. "I dunno. You had it last night, didn't you?" He could barely remember last night so that meant that Ron probably couldn't remember anything about it. He climbed to his feet and trudged into the kitchen where he proceeded to make a pot of strong black coffee, as quietly as possible.
"Last night?" Ron scratched his head. "I don't leave the house without shoes on so...yes. I did have them both last night." He followed after Harry and plopped down on one of their kitchen chairs, cradling his head in his hands. "I just don't have them both now."
"Obviously." Harry mumbled as he handed Ron the first cup of coffee and then poured himself a cup. Sipping on it, he sighed. "Well...where did you come from? Maybe it's there?" He took another sip of the potently strong coffee.
Blowing the steam from the coffee, Ron took a sip, wincing at the overbearing taste. "Hall closet." He felt his cheeks heat up knowing that he wasn't going to live this down.
"The hall closet?" Harry finished his cup and pushed it away. He felt a little better, his head was now only sporting a dull throb. "What were you doing in there?"
Ron squinted his eyes, trying to remember. "Eh...I don't remember. But I think it had something to do with...painting something." He shrugged and pushed his empty cup away. "Thanks for the coffee, Harry. What would I do without you?" He gave his friend a weak smile.
"Suffer. You'd suffer without me since you haven't the slightest clue how to make coffee. You insist upon drinking tea. Really, you should widen your pellet. Coffee is very good with a spot of milk and sugar. Black only tastes good for hangovers." Harry stood and carried the two empty cups to the sink where he rinsed them out. "What time is it, anyways?" He reached into the cupboard above his head and pulled out a bottle of aspirin. Opening it, he swallowed three before offering the bottle to Ron.
The doorbell rang, making both boys wince from the loud echo of bells. The previous owners of the apartment were very religious so the doorbell was designed to mimic church bells. Very loud and even louder when you were nursing a hangover.
Ron glanced down at his watch which was very blurry. "Um. One thirty six, in he afternoon." He let his arm drop back to his side. "Who would be bothering us on a Saturday?" He took the bottle and emptied four of the pills out onto his hand. He tossed them into his mouth and swallowed them. "Thanks mate."
Harry stepped past Ron and started down the hallway towards the door. "Maybe Jehovah witnesses?" A smirk formed on his lips. "Your welcome, Ron." He loved to freak those people out. "You want these ones?"
Shaking his head, Ron stood and followed. "I had the last ones. I thought for sure that they wouldn't be coming back after that." He couldn't help but smirk at the memory. He wouldn't ever forget the looks on their faces when he answered the door wearing nothing but his socks. "Go on then. Let's see what you got." He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the living room wall to watch.
Nodding, Harry stopped at the door. "Who is it?" He waited but no one answered. The doorbell was rung again and then again. Rolling his eyes, he put his hand on the door knob. "They must be the deaf ones."
"Probably blind too." Ron added. "They are bound and determined to save our souls."
"True. I'd send someone blind too. No one really wants to see your naked arse." Harry yanked the door open and put his hand up to block the sun. "Can I help you?" He squinted his eyes to try and bring whoever it was on their door step into focus. This was made difficult since his contacts were dried out and beginning to burn. He'd had to change them before long or risk an eye infection. He could barely make out the shapes of three people.
"I believe that you can, Mr. Patton." Came the voice from the oldest of the trio.
The voice sounded familiar but Ron couldn't place it so he stepped up behind his friend and peered over his shoulder. "Whatever you're selling, we don't want any."
"I can assure you that we are not selling anything, Mr. Westinghouse." Severus Snape ground out. He wanted to be any place but here.
Harry froze. Like Ron, he was trying to place the first voice but he definitely knew the second one. "Mr. Snape?" He finally managed to bring the three people into focus. The first that he saw and to whom the first voice belonged to was an elderly man with a long white beard. The second person was Snape, obviously, and the third was a elderly woman wearing beady little eye glasses that sat perched on her nose. "It's Saturday. There isn't any classes today." Was all he managed to get out once the shock wore off.
"Snape!" Ron stepped back. "Wha...What are you doing here? Our Physics chapter will be copied and placed on your desk first thing Monday morning. No need to make a house call." This was the last bunch of people that he thought would be on their door step on a Saturday afternoon. He didn't recognize the other two, older, people.
"May we come in?" Dumbledore asked in amusement as he watched both boys reaction to them being there. They both appeared confused as to what they should do.
"Come in?" Harry parroted. "Come in here?" Blinking, he shook his head. "I don't think so." He moved so that his whole body was blocking the doorway. "We don't let strangers in." He added.
"Ya." Ron also shifted so that he was blocking the doorway. "We'd be out of our minds if we just left you waltz right in. We're not stupid. We don't even know who you are."
"I can assure you that we mean you no harm." Dumbledore was taken back by their refusal to let them in. "We just want to talk."
"I'm sorry. I really think you should leave." Harry started to shut the door only to have a foot stop the door from shutting.
"We will not leave, you insolent boy." Snape spat out but refused to remove his foot.
"I suggest you get off our property before we call the police." Ron was already pulling his cell phone from his pocket. He was still fully dressed, in the same clothes as the night before minus a shoe.
"No need for that." The elderly woman spoke up. Her voice was just as gentle as the elderly man but held a no nonsense tone to it. "We don't want any trouble." McGonagall turned to Headmaster and Potions Professor. "Come along." She started down the walk way and towards the street.
"This is not over, Patton." Severus turned and followed Minerva, if he was wearing his robes, they would be bellowing out behind him; efficiently making him look like a giant bat. But since he wasn't, he could do nothing but hold his head high; in a dignified manner.
"Very well. We will speak again soon." Dumbledore's eyes never lost their twinkle and his smile never faded. He just turned and followed after his two colleagues.
Harry watched them until they disappeared from sight. With a sigh, he closed the door and leaned his head against it. "That was close, Ron. Too close." He mumbled. His voice muffled by the door.
"I'm not feeling so well now. I think I need to lay down." Ron turned and headed for their bedroom. Once inside, he slipped off his jacket and tossed it to the floor. Then he fell, face forward, onto his bed. His shoe was later discarded and he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
Harry frowned as he turned, just in time, to catch the retreating form of his friend. "This is just bloody great." He grumbled. His headache was back and it felt like it brought friends. "The more the merrier." He sighed as he closed the window blinds and fell backwards onto the couch. He removed hi contacts and laid them onto the end table. Then he flung an arm over his eyes and willed his body to relax. Soon he surrendered to the world of dreams.
Meanwhile elsewhere Snape was in a very foul mood. They boys were in their grasp and they just left them go. "The old fool." He grumbled as he paced the small room like a caged animal. "What if they run again? I will not waste another five years of my bloody life on them."
"If they run again, we will find them." Albus Dumbledore said from the doorway of Severus's room. "I know that you didn't get along with young Mister Potters father but that was in the past. The boy is not his father. We had no choice but to leave. We were making them nervous and I can't say that I blame them for feeling that way. They've been away for so long; we scare them. We are a threat to the lives that they have, obviously, worked hard to build. And if this was any other time, I would leave them be. But alas, it is not. You should understand that more than I. The boys are not safe on their own and I ask you, for your sake as much as theirs, that you let the past rest. At least for now." With that, he left the brooding man to his thoughts.
Minerva McGonagall frowned as she sipped her cup of tea. She didn't even look up as she began to speak. "I cannot believe that is Harry and Ronald. I have known the Weasleys for many years; having taught a few generations of them myself. Will...Ron...doesn't even look or act like the boy that I remember. And his friend, I can't believe that he is the same boy that we left with the Dursley's those many years ago, he looks nothing like his father now. They've both changed so much, Albus."
"Yes, they have. It's called growing up, my dear Professor McGonagall. We all have to do it sometime. I'm afraid that they had to do it sooner rather than later." Dumbledore seated himself across from her in a large fluffy red chair. "Ron is his own person now. He won't ever have to be in his brothers shadow. And Harry, he's found friendship and a bond that I don't think will ever be broken. Just like his father did. He might not have James' looks anymore but he got his spirit. I think his mother would be proud of that." He fell silent and just stared into the fire thinking of a young black haired child who stopped Voldemort from getting the Sorcerers stone and a young red haired child who played the best game of chess Hogwarts had seen in years. A soft sigh escaped from his lips. Remembering was bittersweet.