Louis' head spun. He suspected that in the morning, he would not be very chipper and ready for work. Mentally, he drafted a sick letter to send by owl as soon as he got home. Or maybe in the morning. He couldn't decide if his boss would be thankful for the early notice or would curse him into next week for sending an owl at – whatever bloody time it would be. He checked his watch. The face blurred before him. Probably nearly midnight.
"And what if I crack my head open and die?" Ethan Davies, their formerly-designated apparator asked. Louis reckoned he could still apparate if necessary, but Ethan was the type to refuse unless he was stone-cold sober. Which meant their options were finding a floo connection or taking the Knight Bus. The thought made Louis want to be sick. Nothing was worse than flooing drunk.
"Or – and consider this seriously – you won't," Abby Goldstein replied, holding him by the shoulders. She widened her brown eyes to make her point. Louis swooped him to support her, thumping Ethan on the back.
"Come on, man," he said. "If you crack your head? We go to a fireplace, say, 'hi there, St. Mungo's,' and they wave their wands and you're all good." Ethan gave him a disgusted look. Louis returned it.
"You smell like tequila," Ethan said. Louis pondered this.
"Well," he said. "Yes. Yes I do."
"Come on," Abby said, tugging at Ethan's hands. "It's a crime not to. It's Christmas!"
"No," Ethan said, "it's the fifth of December." Abby pulled a face. Louis nodded vehemently in agreement with her face.
"It's Christmas," Louis said. Ethan rolled his eyes.
"Does it look like Christmas?" he asked, gesturing to the town. Snow covered the roofs of the shops, and the stones of the laneways winding between them. Torches burned brightly in the dark of the night, lighting the way towards Hogsmeade station. Wreaths hung on each and every door, and in the shop windows, snowy landscapes, warm robes, and miniature Christmas trees were on display beneath large 'CHRISTMAS SALE' signs. Couples intertwined their hands and wandered down the lantern-lit cobblestones. And then, the main attraction: the newly-erected ice-skating rink. For two galleons, each witch or wizard got skates, a protection potion, and an hour on the ice. A stone wall sectioned by large columns bordered the rink, and an enchanted, bright, blazing lantern floated above. It changed colours in time with the beat of the music blaring over the radio.
"Yes," Louis said. Ethan sighed.
"Look how many people there are," he said. "On Christmas, everyone's home with their families. Hogsmeade is empty.
"'Cept for the people that live here," Abby pointed out. Ethan rubbed his face.
"I suppose."
"I think it looks like Christmas," Louis reiterated. "So. Ethan. Skate-skate scoot-scoot time." Ethan folded his arms across his chest, and glanced over at the booth. A smiling witch gave a young family four pairs of skates and a vial each. "Come on," Louis said. "Those kids aren't even Hogwarts age, and they're doing it!"
"If you keep trying to peer pressure me, I'll hex you into next week," Ethan said.
"Oooh," Abby said, wiggling her fingers. "Driiiink the Firewhisky, Ethaaannn," she whispered.
"We wouldn't peer pressure you," Louis promised. "We'll just Imperius you." Ethan choked. Abby guffawed and lightly whacked him on the arm.
"Louis!"
"What?"
"Never mind what I do, what about you two?" Ethan asked. Louis and Abby exchanged a look.
"What about us?" Abby asked.
"You can't skate," Ethan said. Louis scoffed.
"Why not?"
"Because – because I had to help you walk from the Three Broomsticks to here!" Ethan said.
"And?"
"You're mad," Ethan said.
"You're mental," Louis retorted.
"I want to skate," said Abby. "You pair do as you please." She pulled out a pouch of coins and headed for the booth. Ethan grimaced.
"If I'd done it before, it'd be a different story," he said quietly. "I just don't fancy my chances having a go for the first time while drunk."
"You had half a pint," Louis said. Ethan gave him a look. Louis toyed with his scarf. "If you really don't want to, we can't make you. You know I'm rubbish at Defence. I couldn't really Imperius you."
"Well, that makes me feel much better," Ethan said dryly. Abby handed over her galleons and the witch gave her a pair of skates. She grinned at Louis and Ethan, and sat down on a bench to put them on.
"You can be our shoe-minder," Louis suggested. "It's very important. These shoes cost me twenty galleons, you know." Ethan's eyes boggled.
"Twenty?!" he exclaimed. Louis lifted his feet to show off his fancy trainers. A large logo stamped each toe.
"They're designer."
"You've more sickles than sense." Ethan shook his head. Louis shrugged.
"Maybe. Mind them for me?"
"Fine."
Ethan sat next to Abby, whilst Louis headed to the booth. The witch working there was very pretty.
"Where'd you get your earrings?" Louis asked, tapping his ear. She blushed. "I have a sister who would die for them." The witch wrote down the name of the shop, as well as her name and address, accompanied by a scribble of an owl. Louis felt bad; she was gorgeous, but not his type. The objects of his affection tended to be the sorts that could've shared a dorm with him at school, if you got his meaning.
"Here you are," she said, batting her eyelashes. He thanked her and took the skates and the potion, before heading back to his friends. Abby held her sides, laughing.
"Are you straight now?' she asked him. "You were flirting with her!'
"I was not!" Louis said indignantly. "I had to ask about her earrings, and then she started on me, and it would've been rude not to entertain her!"
"You tease!" Abby cried.
"You're just jealous!" Louis accused. He tore the note the witch had given him in two, and gave Abby the part with her details. "Thank me later." Abby sighed hopelessly.
"As if I'll be able to owl her. She's too pretty. I nearly died talking to her."
"You're useless," Louis said, carefully giving Ethan his shoes.
"I got more N.E. than you," Abby said. Louis pouted.
He and Abby drank their protection potions and stumbled over to the rink. Abby gripped Louis' arm tightly, and he grabbed her around her waist. His legs wobbled.
"Maybe Ethan was right," Abby whispered.
"Never say that again," said Louis. They hobbled onto the ice. Immediately, they grabbed the stone wall. Louis' feet skidded beneath him. A gleeful child skated past, hands in the air, braids flying. He glared at her. He'd skated in the past, when he was little and then on occasion with friends on Hogsmeade weekends at school, but it had been a year, and, well, he'd never had so much to drink before going. He pulled himself around the rink with the wall, fingers fumbling. He smacked his knee and fell to the ground. Abby madly dragged herself back to him.
"Are you alright?" she asked. Louis groaned. Another child narrowly missed running over his head. Louis clutched his knee.
"I'm dying," he told her. The world spun.
"We gotta get you up," Abby said. She nervously lifted one hand off the wall and reached down to him. He grabbed it. She pulled, and he grunted, and she strained, and he clenched his stomach muscles and tried to lift himself up.
"Fuck me," Louis said.
"You're so heavy!" Abby complained. They tried again, and Abby teetered on her skates and let go of his hands to grab the wall. He fell back with a thud. His tailbone throbbed, and that was with a protection potion, and alcohol. He gritted his teeth.
"I'll start again," Louis said. He slid across the rink on his butt (which grew number with each second it was on the ice). A couple held hands and skated around him, their hands skimming the top of his hair. He gave them a dirty look and continued sliding. Finally, he made it to the edge. He leaned forward onto his hands and knees and crawled onto the ground. He winced – his palms were getting dirty. Disgusting. He grabbed the wall and pulled himself up. Louis started the awkward hobble back onto the ice. Abby met him, having just completed a lap, and they did another lap together. Logically, he knew they weren't going very fast, but it felt like they were flying. They increased their speed, using their arm muscles more than anything to pull themselves along. Abby lifted her hands for a moment, screamed, and promptly hugged a column as she tried to slow down. Louis burst out laughing.
"Like you can do better!" she said. He took the challenge. He pushed himself off the wall. He flung his arms out as wide as they could go, and they flapped in a circle as he crossed the ice, heading for the other wall. People skated out of his way. He slammed into the opposite wall. He looked to the bench where Ethan was sitting. His eyes widened. It was empty – his shoes were gone! And so was Ethan! A black satchel was in its place.
"Oi!" he shouted, to Ethan, wherever he was. No reply. "Oi! Ethan! Mate!" His legs skedaddled under him, and he readjusted his grip on the wall.
"What are you on about?" Abby pulled herself towards him. He mustered up his courage and let go of the wall with one hand to point at the empty bench.
"Look! He disappeared!"
"You are mad."
Ethan appeared at the entrance to the rink, clinging to the wall, stiff as a board. He smiled, but his eyes were wide and his face was pale. Abby squealed with excitement and Louis pushed off the wall towards Ethan. Ethan frantically pulled himself away from Abby and Louis.
"Hold your hippogriffs," he said. Louis slammed into the wall once more, but righted himself and grabbed on before he could fall.
"You came!" Abby exclaimed. "Oh, Ethan, you're the best. I love you. Have I told you that I love you lately? 'Cause I mega do."
"Mega, even?" Ethan said, raising his eyebrows. Abby nodded. "Well, that's an owl of a different colour."
"Shall we do a lap?" Louis asked. Ethan flattened himself around the wall.
"If we must," he said. Abby pushed off and managed to get around Louis and Ethan and back to the wall without falling. Louis steeled himself to go next, but then he glimpsed the bench again.
"What'd you do with my shoes? Didn't I tell you how expensive they are?" Louis asked.
"Hardly. They're in my bag. I charmed it," he said.
"I didn't remember you had a bag."
"I'm not surprised."
Louis pushed off and flailed wildly, but made it around Ethan. The three of them scooted around the rink, and Abby let go a handful of times, moving a few feet at a time independently. Ethan stayed deathly white and was lapped by a boy who couldn't have been older than six – twice. As they came back to the entrance, Louis let go and scrabbled forward. He made it across the gap. Ethan stopped still when the wall disappeared.
"I can't do it," he said suddenly. "I'm not cut out for this."
"Come on!" Abby said. "You've been so brave! You can do it!"
"Come on, Ethan! You'll be an old man soon enough! Enjoy it while you can!"
Ethan narrowed his eyes. "I'm already an old man!" he called back.
"No, you just act like one! Come on!" Louis took a breath, and then took both hands off the wall to clap. Abby joined him. They clapped and cheered so much that people looked over at them. Ethan squeezed his eyes shut.
"Fine," he said faintly, and let go.
"No, open your eyes!" Abby said. Ethan kept them tightly shut and slowly, slowly skidded across to them, arms out in front. His hand bumped Louis' chest. Ethan opened his eyes. "Oh, thank Merlin, Godric, and Helga," Ethan said.
"You lived to drink another cocktail," Louis said helpfully.
"Just my priority at the moment," Ethan said, leaning on the wall.
"Cocktails are always a priority, secondary only to shoes," Louis assured him.
"Agree to disagree," said Abby.
The three of them made it around again with little incident, and Abby became less reliant on the walls. Louis let go and his head swirled, so he quickly returned to the safety promised by the stone wall. The six-year-old didn't quite make two laps before Ethan made one. Ethan once more crossed the gap with his eyes closed, which Louis thought was absolutely absurd. Abby tried a cautious lap without holding on at all, and made it without falling over.
"You're a natural," Louis said. Abby squinted at him.
"It's not 'natural' if it takes you several goes to get it," she said. Louis shrugged.
"Same difference," he said. Ethan came up behind them, looking ragged.
"When does the promised fun start?" he asked, panting. Louis pondered this, and then smiled.
"Now," He grabbed each of them by the hand. Ethan pulled back.
"What the devil are you doing?" he asked.
"I promised you fun," Louis said. He took off as best he could and dragged them away from the wall. Ethan shut his eyes and groaned. He held Louis' hand so tightly that the circulation to his fingers was cut off. Abby tried to keep them upright, holding her other arm out.
"You're supposed to be the pretty one, Louis!" she yelped. "Not the one who has ideas!"
"Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin," whispered Ethan.
Louis hoisted their hands into the air. "Woo!" he shouted. And for a beautiful moment, under the dazzling rainbow light, in the middle of a wintry Hogsmeade wonderland, the three of them were in the middle of the ice-skating rink, glorious, victorious, Louis in the centre, Abby laughing, Ethan peeking out at the world.
And then, naturally, they tumbled to the ground. The potion they'd taken strained to cushion them. They became a mass of arms and legs and skates and heads.
"Well," Louis croaked, "that was fun."
"I think I cracked my head open and died," Ethan said weakly. Abby rolled off them and onto her back.
"Or," she started, " – and consider this seriously – you didn't."
Louis looked up at the cold, starry night, and grinned.
A/N: Hello all! I apologise for my sudden week-plus absence. Unfortunately in Australia, if you live more than fifteen minutes from the Eastern coast or from the capital, one storm can take out your internet and leave you with very spotty power for over a week. I'll be uploading and writing as much as I can now that they've patched up a bit of internet – not enough to load any pictures (I'm very glad to have the Harry Potter picture books and film compendium thing as references!) but enough to get this out to you. I hope you're having a much better December than I am!
