The Things That Really Matter

or

The Party of the Year

Then next day everyone woke up early. They were all unsurprisingly well rested from last night's festivities.

"That was the worst birthday party I've ever had," said Harry remorsefully.

"That was theonly birthday party you'd ever had," said Hermione pointedly.

"Jeez, Harry!" said Ron humorously. "Why do you have to be so darn dramatic about everything?"

"Well why do you have to question everything I do?" asked Harry heatedly.

There was a brief pause in which Ron actually seemed to be thinking about the question. When he replied again there was a wistfull expression upon his face.

"It's not just you Harry… there's a lot of things I've been questioning ever since the start of this fic."

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione interestedly.

"Like why did we all sleep in the same room? How come no one has ever used the bathroom? Why haven't we seen Fleur, Bill, or Ginny since we got here? And why does the author feel the need to put in an adverb almost every time we say something?" asked Ron seriously.

"Ron," said Harry comfortingly. "You can't let these things bother you. It's all part of the fan fiction way. You'll either have to get used to it now, or go crazy by the 3rd chapter."

"He's right Ron," said Hermione… agreeingly. "This author is probably just some 45 year old man who dropped out of college because he didn't have what it takes to be an English major. I bet he works at a gas station and lives with his mom. Hate him or love him, you still have to deal with him. I mean he is our author after all." (A/N: I am not a 45-year-old man who lives with his mother. I'm a 43-year-old man… and Mother lives with me!)

"Yeah you're both right. Besides, I don't want to miss the 3rd chapter do to insanity. I hear that the actual plot is going to start in that one."

So, heartened by the prospect of an actual plot, the three amigos headed downstairs for breakfast. Ron didn't even mention the fact that they never changed into or out of bedclothes. When they reached the kitchen they were not at all surprised to see Bill and Fleur already sitting at the table, eating the delicious meal that Mrs. Weasley had prepared.

"Good morning, 'arry, Ronald, and 'ermione," said Fleur luxuriously. "Vit is vo lovely to vee you!"

"Morning Fleur," said the trio in unison while silently wondering what vit, vo and vee meant.

"Harry!" said Bill excitedly. "Just the man I wanted to see."

When Harry turned to get a serious look at Bill he inwardly flinched. While the injuries caused by the werewolf Greyback had "healed", they left nasty scars throughout the contours of his face.

"Hello Bill," said Harry as he inwardly cringed at the sight of Bill's face. "How's that half-werewolf thing working out?"

"Believe it or not, it's working out quite nicely. Sure I scare people a bit, but there are so many advantages to offset the disadvantages."

"Like what?" asked Harry in a genuinely interested tone.

"I'm glad you asked that Harry," said Bill with a smile that even penetrated his scars. "I never have to dress up for Holloween, I get all the free steaks I want (the guy who owns the local restaurant is terrified of me), and when someone annoys me… well let's just say you don't want to annoy me."

"I'll regret asking later… but what happens when someone annoys you?"

"It's nothing too bad really," said Bill conversationally."I justeat them."

"Don't worry though," said Bill as he saw the look of fear cross over Harry's face. "I don't just eat anyone. I only eat really annoying people. Like the mailman who's always late, or my overbearing boss, or cough Little Children."

"What was that last one?"

"My overbearing boss?"

"No! The one after that one!"

"I didn't say anything after that!"

"Yes you did! You said you eat little children!"

"I did not. That's Ridiculous. Horrible even!"

"You're the one who said it!"

"No I did not!" protested Bill. His eyes were flashing a dangerous yellow. "Don't make me angry Harry… you won't like me when I'm angry!"

Seeing that he was clearly in dangerous waters, Harry decided to change the subject.

"So what did you want to talk to me about anyway?"

Bill's eyes returned to their normal color (which I don't happen to know… let's say they're auburn. I like auburn…).

"Oh, that! I almost completely forgot. Well tomorrow I'm taking a wolf mate."

"You mean you're getting married," corrected Harry.

"Yes, that's what I said. And as such, today will be my last day as a bachelor. You see muggles have this custom that they follow on their last day as a bachelor."

"Yeah I've heard about it. They throw away everything that ever mattered to them and prepare to surrender their freedom to a woman who will never truly appreciate them. The same woman who said he had to get rid of all his posters and baseball cards and paint the house pink. Then twenty years down the line he's henpecked like there's no tomorrow. He finds himself holding his wife's purse in the supermarket and folding her undergarments, until one day she just gets sick of his spineless behind and kicks him to the curb. Then he's left with nothing but the clothes on his back… if he's lucky. It's a horrible custom really."

"That's not exactly what I meant. I was talking about the other custom. You know where the groom-to-be gets his freak on for the last time."

"Oh! You mean a bachelor party! Why didn't you just say so?" said Harry exasperatedly.

"I was going to, but then you gave that horrible speech about men who give up their masculinity. But that's neither here nor there. So will you throw my bachelor party for me?"

"Of course I will! I've never been to a real party… unless you count that horrible one last night. Did you have any idea what you want to do at the party?"

"Well I'm not sure really… I think it has something to do with some future plot device that will reveal itself before the end of the chapter. You never know how these things work out."

"Yeah…" was all Harry could say in response. "Speaking of plot devices, where's Ginny? I haven't seen her since I came here."

"She's closer than you think," said a silky smooth voice coming from behind Harry.

"Ginny!" cried Harry in mingled surprise and joy. "Where have you been all my life… I mean today and yesterday?"

"In my room preparing to meet you. It takes quite some time to get this beautiful. While my normal beauty would have been enough to strike you into a comma, I knew I could do better."

And in fact she was beautiful beyond belief. So beautiful, that I could never give it justice with a description. But just so I don't appear completely lazy I will say this: She was so beautiful that it hurt.

After Harry recovered from the pains of beauty, he got off the floor and began to eat his breakfast. He ate quickly in an attempt to avoid any actual conversations with his one time girlfriend. As soon as he was done he grabbed his best friend Ron and headed out to plan for the evening's events.

One short apparation later…

"Harry what are we doing here?" asked a man from beneath a hooded robe. "You know this place is dodgy! And that's putting it nicely."

"Quiet Ron! Do you want everyone to know who we are?" Harry was also well hidden in his full-length robe. "Besides, this is a respectable establishment. Why even Dumbledore used to come here. Merlin bless his soul."

"The Hog's Head is not a respectable establishment! I mean its mascot is a bloody butchered pig!" Ron paused a second, as if collecting his thoughts. "And don't get me started on the whole Merlin vs. God thing! We all know you want to say God so why don't you just do it?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but was saved. They had reached the doorway of the rough-and-tumble bar known as The Hog's Head. This was not their first time visiting this particular place of business. There had been many late night excursions in which the two of them had not left walking straight. But ever since the return of the dark lord this place had grown even tougher and rowdier. Violence here was a necessity and murder was not uncommon.

As our two heroes walked in, the bar was in a state of general calm. People were drinking quietly and having whispered conversations while keeping an eye out for anyone who may want to cause them harm.

"Listen Ron," said Harry knowingly. "In a place like this, there are certain rules you have to follow. A certain code of conduct if you will. If you lay low and keep your head down we can get in, do what we have to do, and get out. Do you understand? Ron?"

Ron had heard about two words of Harry's small, prepared speech (the man had been going over it in his head ever since he had left the breakfast table). He knew how to handle himself and he didn't need Harry's advice. He walked up to the biggest and most dangerous looking wizard in the bar and pulled out his wand. Harry hung his head in shame.

"Listen you scum bag," said Ron loud enough so that the whole bar could hear. "because I'm only going to say this one time. I know your type. You think you're a big man around these parts. You think you've got something that all these other pathetic dopes around here can't handle."

At these words all the "patrons" of the bar looked quite furious. Ron, however, did not seem to notice and continued on with his speech.

"You take one look at me and think 'I could break that skinny kid in half'. But I'm telling you right now that you don't know who you're dealing with. I've seen things that could make grown men cry. I've been places that make this run down shack look like paradise. And I've killed men who make you look like Tinny Tim. So I'm going to ask you a question and you better give me the right answer or you'll wish you'd never been born. Do you understand me? Or was that too complicated for a low-down-dirty barfly to comprehend?"

The man looked Ron straight in the eyes, not even showing a trace of fear or any emotion for that matter. Then suddenly he spit on the ground and said, "Bite me, blood traitor!"

Without wand or warning, Ron threw a deadly punch at the man's temple, rendering him unconscious.

"Now I'm only going to ask nicely once," said Ron, addressing the whole bar with his wand ready. He was feeling quite confident and Harry had slowly joined him at his side. "Then things are going to get ugly. Where can I find the man who sells wizard's whisky?"

There was a long pause in which the whole bar was silent and then the bartender spoke.

"Do you mean the man who trades illegal drinks?"

"Yes," said Harry feeling the infectious rays of Ron's recent victory.

"The one who sells drinks so intoxicating that a sniff could get you drunk and a swallow will make you plastered?"

"That's the man."

The bartender began to wipe a dirty mug with a dirty rag.

"Well do you know him?" asked Harry in an annoyed tone.

"Yeah I know him alright."

"Well is he here?"

"Aye. The man is here in this very room."

"Well where is he?" Harry was beginning to get really ticked off now.

"He's lying right there on the floor, he is."

"Oh," was all Harry could say in response. He turned to face his friend. "Ron that's kinda bad, don't you think?"

"Yeah… I can't say I saw that one coming."

Silence fell between the two friends and the barreverted back to its usual state.

"So what do we do now?" asked Harry acidly. "You do seem to be the brains behind this operation."

"You're not helping! Anyways there's only one thing we can do."

He pointed his wand at the unconscious wizard and quietly muttered, "Ennervate".

The beaten man slowly rose to his feet and favored Ron with a most venomous look.

"I think we may have gotten off to a bad start," said Ron as he extended his hand to the man. "My name is Percy, Percy Weasley."

The whisky seller did not take his hand, but seeing a chance to earn some much needed cash he decided to play along. "They call me Blood Whiskey around these parts and I have no doubt that that is not your real name. A man who gives his name in a place like this is either a fool or a liar. By the looks of ya, I'd reckon you're both."

Ron would have knocked the man out again if Harry hadn't held him back.

"Cool it Ro-… I mean Percy," he muttered softly so that only Ron could hear. "We require this man's services. I suggest you refrain from any further violence until we are through."

Harry then turned to Blood Whiskey and began to make a deal.

"Listen Mr. Whiskey. I believe you have some goods that me and my partner here desire very much. I must say that your reputation is well known through out England, even in some muggle parts. Now I think we're all reasonable men here and we can come to an agreement that will leave everyone… satisfied."

"What do you propose Mr… your name seems to have excaped me."

"That's because I didn't give it, my good man," said Harry smoothly. He continued on without missing a beat. "I'd like to have three of your finest home-made brews. I believe that 20 galleons will cover that sufficiently."

"I've never sold a bottle for less than 40 my friend."

"That's highway robbery!" yelled Ron in outrage.

"Let me handle this," whispered Harry under his breath.

"Look, sir. I am not a man without understanding. I realize that you have a business to run and that such a business is not run cheep. However, I think that 60 galleons is a compromise that will work well for us all."

Blood Whiskey stroked his chin and appeared to be thinking about Harry's proposition. After a short while he spoke again.

"I like you kid. That is why you and your idiot friend here are still in one piece right now. So I'm willing to give you a… new customer discount. How does 70 galleons sound?"

"Deal," said Harry grudgingly and handed over the money. In actuality, he had been prepared to pay twice that amount.

Blood Whiskey then pulled three bottles out of his overcoat and handed them to Harry.

"Well if that's all gentlemen, I must be going. I've got a pounding headache to attend to." He gave a particularly nasty look at Ron.

"Not so fast Blood Whiskey!" said Ron. "If that is your real name."

"It isn't…" said Harry irritably as he placed his head in the palm of his hand.

"How do we know that this is really the famous whiskey we've heard so much about?"

"That is perhaps the stupidest thing you've said all day. There's only one way to know, and that's to try it."

Ron then took a bottle from Harry and opened it up. He carefully rose the opening to his nose and took a small whiff. He erupted in a series of coughs that left him breathless.

"That's the real stuff alright," he gasped as half the bar erupted in laughter.

Blood Whiskey turned to leave the bar. When he reached the door he turned around to face them once again.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you. Good day Mr. Weasley. Good day…" he looked steadily at Harry with an air of amusement. "Mr. Potter."

Every head in the bar turned to look at the two former Hogwarts students, their faces like open books. Some wore expressions of hate and scorn and many held faces of interest and fascination. But the face that surprised the boys the most was that of the bartender. His face shone of extreme constipation.

Harry looked him straight in the eyes and said, "You really are Dumbledore's brother, aren't you?"

The barkeep did not respond. Harry and Ron drew their hoods over their heads once more and walked out of the bar knowing in their hearts that theywere truelyuntouchable.

"Well that last scene was hardcore, dontcha think?" said Ron excitedly.

"Yes, yes, we all know how freaking awesome that was," said Harry impatiently. "But we've got more important things to talk about. Like how Blood Whiskey knew who I was."

"Well I figured that was pretty obvious. I mean with your scar and all. You might as well put a neon sign on your head or something."

"Thank you Ron, I feel much better about myself now." He let out a sigh. "Well at least we've got the most important key to throwing a bachelor party. But we need something else. Hmm… what else is there that men love that they'll have to give up when they're married… besides their dignity that is."

"Are you a dunce Harry?" asked Ron incredulously. He then said in a mocking tone. "'what else do men give up when they're married?' Blimey Harry I thought you were smart! We need women and lots of them!"

"I don't think Hermione would approve," said Harry seriously.

"What Hermione doesn't know won't hurt her."

"Yeah, but she's right behind you."

And in fact Hermione and Ginny had been walking no less than a step behind them during this whole conversation. Harry and Ron had stopped back at the Burrow 15 minutes ago to pick up the two girls. Ginny had been made Fleur's maid of honor and they figured it would be nice if they all shopped together."

"Oh right…" muttered Ron shamefully.

"I knew my brother wasn't the brightest crayon in the box," said Ginny as she shook her head. "But I didn't think he was down right stupid either."

"I think I just lost myfaith in men," said Hermione sadly as they walked along the not-so-busy streets of Diagon Alley.

The rest of the preparations for the Bill and Fleur's parties went quite smoothly. Both the men and the ladies were able to get everything they needed (including Ron's women) and set off to the pre-selected locations of their parties.

Later Harry and Ron blindfolded Bill and brought him to the location.

"Are we almost there?" asked Bill irritably.

"You'll see," said Harry in response.

"But we've been wandering around for hours. I'm starting to wonder if you two even know where we're going."

"Of course we know where we're going… we're just taking the scenic route!" said Ron. He was severely insulted by Bill's insinuations.

"That's it we're lost! I'm taking this blindfold off and going home!"

"Ok, you can take it off if you'd like," said Harry. "Especially since we're here."

Bill took off the blindfold and saw what looked like the most pathetic party he'd ever seen.

They were at the shrieking shack in Hogsmead Village. In the center of the room was a table on which three small dirty bottles sat. There were three women sitting at the table. All of them were middle aged, but at least they were somewhat attractive.

"This is the big party you were planning all day?" asked Bill in outrage. "I'd expect such lameness from Ron, but not you Harry."

"Hey!" yelled Ron indignantly.

"Look Bill. I promise you it'll be good. Just sit down and have a drink. You'll see."

Bill seemed hesitant at first, but since he had nothing better to do that night he sat down at the table next to one of the ladies. Harry and Ron took seats next to the other ladies and all three of them opened up a bottle of Blood Whiskey's finest. Bill took a whiff of the stuff and nearly passed out.

"What is this? Lighter fluid?"

"No," said Harry calmly. "It's really good stuff. Why don't you take a sip."

Bill raised the bottle slowly to his lips and reluctantly swallowed a small amount of liquid. From then on out the party didn't seem all that bad. In fact, it was the best party he'd ever had.

four and a half hours later

"Woooohoooo! That was the party of the year!" yelled Bill excitedly.

Harry shook his head vigorously in agreement. "Truer words have never been spoken!"

"I'm so drunk, I'm surprised I can walk!"

"Ron… you aren't walking. We started levitating you 20 minutes ago."

"Oh… well I'm so drunk, I'm surprised I can be levitated!"

"Amen to that!" said Bill, slurring every word.

"Yeah, it's a good thing I took your wands. You should never drink and apparate." Harry had chosen to be the designated apparater that evening, but once the party had gotten started even he was too wasted to apparate. The three of them decided that it would be best to just walk home.

"But seriously you guys," said Bill seriously. "Thank you. It means a lot to me. You see I never really had many friends. Most people thought I was too cool for them… and I was. This bachelor party means a lot to me, ya know? I finally got to do all the things I had missed growing up. But I'd trade them all in a second to be with Fleur."

"Yeah," said Harry bitterly. "And you will. You'll trade every last one of them… and for what? Some spicy redhead that could rock your world if you'd only let her. You'd be willing to trade your adventures and your dreams of killing your archenemy for a girl? I pity you man… I really do. Even if you've got a girl that makes Cho Chang seem like chopped liver."

"Uh right… are we still talking about Fleur? Anyways, you guys are still young. You don't know what it's like to have a fine woman. Maybe one day, you'll be lucky enough to experience it, and on that day you'll probably lose her forever."

"That's… the most tragic thing I've ever heard. You're really not too optimistic about our futures are you?" asked Harry, quite seriously.

"Oh sorry! I didn't mean to include Ron in that. I mean once you, Harry James Potter a.k.a. the freak with the scar, find a girl that you love more than life itself you'll lose her," corrected Bill.

"Well thanks… a guy throws you a great party and you predict a life of unhappiness for him."

"Hey, I call'em like I see'em. I'm so drunk I don't even remember how to lie."

"Amen to that!" yelled Ron excitedly before puking on a fire hydrant. "Wicked! I just tossed my cookies in mid-air!"

With those wise words, the three of them stumbled (and levitated) their way back to the Burrow. Harry in particular had learned a valuable lesson about living and being a man: Don't do either, if you can avoid it.