Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc still belongs to JK Rowling, plot still belongs to me.

Author's Note: I have GOT to start coming up with ideas before I start the chapter. I swear next time I will try to. This could be a little weird.

A/N 2: Thank you so much to people who are reading and reviewing this; it's ancient and I can't believe that people are appreciating it! Love you all loads. Plenty of this still to come.

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By eight o'clock, the older students were in the club and ordering their first drinks. Everyone seemed to have made an effort this time, meaning there was an interesting range of wizard and Muggle clothing. Hermione appeared to have mustered another sparkly outfit. Ron seemed mesmerised by the length – or rather the shortness – of her skirt. Harry was determined not to get drunk out of his wits in Draco's presence, in case he did anything stupid.

Due to this resolution, he found himself having considerably less fun than the last time they had come to Gaude. All that had happened within fifteen minutes of their arrival was that Harry had discovered how tasteless wizard soda pops were. In the end, he gave up on complete abstinence and ordered a Firevodka. Deciding that he might as well have one or two seriously potent drinks, rather than numerous soda-mixers, he ordered it straight (no pun intended).

Just as he took his first sip, almost choking on how strong the drink was, Harry felt a hand brush his sleeve. He turned to find Draco standing there, grinning at him. As the blond turned to the bar-witch and began deciding which murderous beverage to have, Harry took the opportunity to take in Draco's appearance. Tonight he was wearing dark jeans and a black polo neck jumper. He seemed to have ditched the hair gel, which was a shrewd decision, as his hair looked much better natural.

As he heard Ron's voice behind him, Harry forced himself to stop looking at Draco. Did he want to make it obvious?

"Harry, help me!" Ron gasped. "I can't keep up with her, she wants to dance all the time. Merlin, I need a drink!"

Harry grinned in amusement as his friend started talking to the bar-witch. Who would have thought it? This place had certainly brought out a new side to Hermione.

He felt eyes boring into his back, and looked around. To his annoyance, he found Draco watching him, smirking. God, how had he ever thought that smirk looked nasty? It was definitely evil, but truth be told, it was damn sexy too. "Stop watching me!" He mouthed at Draco, who just raised an eyebrow and carried right on watching him.

Harry scowled and returned to his drink. After the preliminary burning it caused, he found himself quite enjoying it. He ordered another. And then another. Stuff abstinence, getting plastered was more fun.

It wasn't long before the evening began following the pattern of the previous time they had come. Again, a small, elite group organised themselves into a game of Wells of Fire. The requirements to be in this 'elite' group were that you had to be mildly intoxicated and in the right place at the right time. This meant that the players turned out to be Ron, Hermione, Harry, Draco and Blaise - in other words, the same people as the previous time. Crabbe and Goyle had evidently opted not to even come to the club this time, which the Gryffindors found very amusing. So the two hard-men of Slytherin couldn't handle alcohol.

The game started off well, and soon the table was surrounded by clouds of sparkly, colourful stars and other such pretty things. The five players were soon utterly soused and enjoying themselves enormously.

By Harry's third go, though, he was finding it hard to see straight, let alone perform semi-decent magic. He claimed double forfeit, as this was always the wisest thing to do.

Draco took his turn and failed to produce anything vaguely decorative. Sadly, this meant that he would be doing a forfeit with Harry. Harry was none too delighted about this.

"What should we make them do?" Blaise asked Ron and Hermione gleefully. The three of them deliberated for several minutes over how to ensure optimum embarrassment. They were still no closer to a decision, when suddenly the song 'Party Animal' by the Weird Sisters began playing. As the heavy bass line got going, Ron's face lit up.

"Go out onto the floor," he commanded Harry and Draco, "and dance."

"Ron, that is the best idea ever!" Hermione squealed. "And make sure you dance properly!"

Blaise just sat there, grinning demonically.

Harry felt a stab of misgiving. Evidently, the tiny corner of his brain that was sober had decided that this was not a good idea. Oh well. He stood up, if a little unsteadily, and headed for the dancefloor.

He quickly discovered that it is only possible to dance to a song like 'Party Animal' when you are totally inebriated. When you are, however, it is a lot of fun. He and Draco would have been getting funny looks, but everyone else in the club was drunk witless as well, so it did not seem strange to them. In fact, a lot of them leapt up and joined the two of them on the dancefloor.

The song lasted for about six minutes, so by the time the rhythm faded, Harry and Draco were both breathless and on the verge of collapse. Dancing frenetically to a Weird Sisters song when extremely drunk was a speedy route to dehydration, as they quickly realised.

The five of them left shortly after this, as they felt they would need a vague sense of balance to make it back to the castle. None of them had greatly enjoyed carrying Hermione the last time, and it was unanimously decided that it would be best to leave before anyone passed out.

The clouds began to clear from Harry's mind as he walked. He felt guilty again. Wizarding world in peril, Voldemort returned, Sirius dead, and Harry totally smashed again – hadn't he learnt anything from how bad he had felt last time? (Evidently not.)

Sunday morning was another unpleasant experience. Harry had another lousy headache. At least this time he knew exactly what to do. As soon as they were dressed, he, Ron and Hermione went straight to the hospital wing and got a cupful each of the rancid orange potion.

The three of them were sitting in the common room after lunch when a loud tapping at the window attracted their attention. Harry stood up and went over to find out the source of the noise. When he opened the window, in flew a large eagle owl, which landed on the arm of his chair and hooted impatiently. Harry took the letter from its leg and read it.

'Mr Potter, could you come to my office at some point this afternoon? Bring Mr Weasley and Miss Granger too, as I am aware you will tell them all that has been said anyway. Professor Dumbledore.'

Harry frowned. So did Ron and Hermione, who had been reading over his shoulder. He glanced at the clock.

"Should we go now?" he asked them uncertainly.

"No time like the present," Ron replied.

The three of them climbed out of the portrait hole and walked off in the direction of Dumbledore's office. Harry carried the letter with him; if he was accosted by a teacher - or worse, Filch - he wanted to be prepared.

Several long corridors later, they arrived at the entrance to the staircase leading to Dumbledore's office. As they stood there, the door opened silently. Nervously, they began to climb the staircase.

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Author's Note: There, I promised a longer chapter didn't I? Hope you like the ending.

A/N 2: Gods, this is almost embarrassing reading this again. I'm sorry about the constant alcohol references, really I am, but I can't be bothered to rewrite, as I have other fics to work on. Review!