The First Day of the Rest of Your Life
By Amiable Dorsai
Morning.
It was morning.
He could see daylight through the only eye he could half open.
Everything hurt.
Everything except his scar.
Voldemort.
Voldemort was dead.
Hermione's spell had worked.
Ron's plan had got him close enough to use it.
The DA had covered his back.
But then...
Oh, Merlin, then...
No, please, let it be just a dream.
He forced open both eyes. There was a body next to his. Not moving.
Not a dream.
He sat up, ignoring the pain and nausea.
More bodies, bodies everywhere.
Looked like all of the Gryffindor 6th and 7th years... Ron? Hermione?
There they were, together—a small mercy.
Dennis Creevey. Somehow, that didn't surprise him. Dennis had a talent for being where he shouldn't, where he was too young to be. Dennis was what, fourth year?
He'd fought well though, preternaturally quick and clever, darting in and out, too fast to hex.
And here he was now, sprawled next to Lavender, who still, somehow, looked fresh and pretty. Well, she was always good at beauty charms.
Who knew she was that good at potions?
Several students from other houses as well, there was Luna, still and pale. Zabini... This was Zabini's fault--partly... and Lavender's... and Parvati's.
And Hermione's.
Hermione... who would have thought that prim little Hermione would know something like the All Night Long charm? Much less be able to cast it while dead drunk? And under the influence of Lavender and Parvati's Lust Dust?
I bet Gryffindor Tower has never seen a party like last night's! I wonder if we'll ever be able look each other in the eye again?
Harry dragged himself to his feet—at his bladder's insistence—and staggered toward the stairs to get to a bathroom, any bathroom. He tried to remember if any of the combat first-aid spells he'd learned this last year were good for a hangover... wand, where was his wand?... no wand... no pocket for a wand... no clothing to have a pocket in...
At least he blended. Starkers seemed to be the fashion, just now--Colin Creevey lay sandwiched between the Patil twins, who wore identical little smiles and nothing else.
Colin, huh. So much for that rumor.
NEWTs next week. He imagined a question for Potions: "Discuss why Firewhiskey, Lust Dust, and Love Potion Number Nine should not be all be present at a victory celebration of hormone-driven teenagers."