Author's note: This is the first part of my The Founding of Pigwarts Trilogy. I have all its three parts planned out already, though not yet written. Each part will be approximately 8 to 10 not very long chapters. And I have every intention to finish this trilogy. :)

The first chapter might be a bit angsty at times, but the following ones will be funnier. There will be an ounce of romance as well, but mostly it's just good old humour. :D

Enjoy!


Disclaimer: Anything you can recognize from Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. The idea and name of Pigwarts is kind of mine.. :) Here, piggy-piggy!
The Founding of Pigwarts I – Recipe For Chaos

Chapter 1: In the Beginning there was a Party

Voldemort was dead, and the world felt like celebrating. The final confrontation had taken place in Hogwarts and in the end the good side won. Everyone felt it the best excuse for getting pissed drunk, dancing on the tables and waking up in a strange bed beside a stranger with a hell of a headache.

Those were the people who hadn't personally fought in the war.

Those who had, found it the perfect time to get pissed drunk, dance on the tables and forgot all the death and destruction they had witnessed and caused. Waking up in a strange bed beside a stranger with a hell of a headache would be a welcomed distraction to keep them from thinking back, from remembering. Recalling that victory had come with the price of lives, and the grass had been red with blood before the rain washed it all away.

Three such people were making their way towards the castle of Hogwarts just now, under the cover of night. They were heroes of the war, and stealing away from the party held in their honour, they had taken as much alcohol with them as they could carry.

Here, before these walls, the battle had been fought, and here would be the only place suitable for gaining oblivion. Not celebrating. But forgetting.

They stopped by the lake and looked at their precious school. The war had not been kind on it – the only thing left of it was a pile of stones. Dead. Hogwarts was dead just like its beloved headmaster, whose white grave still stood proud at their side.

The shortest of the trio gazed that way and realized the tomb was not the only thing there. A figure was standing beside it, with its head lowered and back straight. The moonlight caught on a strand of silver and suddenly she knew who it was.

Hermione Granger was drunk. She had fought in the battle and now she needed to forget. And that was probably the only reason why she did what she did next.

"Malfoy!" she called out to the figure, and when he looked up, added: "We've got firewhisky!"

"And butterbeer!" Ron spoke up from beside her.

"Mead, too!" Harry hollered.

The Golden Trio was already pissed drunk. But they were still standing, however waveringly, and they still remembered.

To say that Draco was surprised at what he saw would be the understatement of the whole eternity. Malfoys did not gape with their mouth open, but he couldn't think of anything better to do at the moment. Scarhead, Weasel and Mudblood, his three top enemies, had just sort of asked him to join them in their celebrations. And they were here, by the ruins, this night. And they were drunk.

"Hermy," Ron whined, having fallen on the ground and not yet figured out how to get up. His drunk friend still had it in her to roll her eyes as she extended her hand to help him up. After four tries, they managed it, but Ron looked dissatisfied.

"Hermy," he started again. "Where's Hogwarts?"

Draco who was completely sober and for once very happy about it closed his mouth with a snap and rolled his own eyes. Oh, if only he had a camera. But with these three the divine heroes of the universe, people would probably forgive them anything. Since the whole world was doing the very same this very moment – getting drunk, that is. Only in some better place.

Hermione turned slowly and unsteadily, before fixing her eyes on the lake and then moving them to the pile of stones which once had been the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Oh there it is," she pointed to it, then took on a puzzled expression. "I kind of remembered it much bigger."

"Perhaps it's because we were smaller then ourselves," Harry suggested.

"Yes! That could be it!" Hermione jumped merrily. "You're smart, Harry."

"Of course I'm smart. I destroyed Vol... Volle... Volly... whatever his name was. The Big Bad Guy."

"I helped, too!" Ron piped in.

Draco rolled his eyes again and shifted his glance to the white marble.

"I hear you, old man," he spoke quietly after a moment, his voice void of contempt or malice. "I will look after them. It's the least I can do. And you should know I need a distraction and forgetfulness myself."

And he did for he too had fought in the war. Only on the other side. Until the very end, until the deciding moment, and then... Switching sides had meant fighting against all his friends and his father. It hadn't been easy.

"Let's go!" Harry yelled, a leader once more, and together they walked, rolled, and crawled towards the ruined castle.

---

"Umm..." Ron stated once they got there. "Where's the door?"

"It must be somewhere here," Hermione rationalized. After all, doors didn't just disappear like that, did they?

"Oh, here it is!" Harry announced proudly and climbed into the opening between the rocks.

"Wait up, Harry!" Ron yelled and turned to follow, only to tumble down once again and burst out laughing.

Hermione laughed, too, even though she didn't get the joke. Must have been a boys' thing. But it felt good – laughing, that is.

After Ron had somehow crept under the stones himself, she looked around, and saw Malfoy performing some spell, his wand pointed towards the castle.

"You're doing magic!" she cried out.

"Yes. Very clever of you, Granger."

Even in her confused state she took notice of the sarcasm and pouted. But when nothing happened for the next couple of moments, she got bored with the silence and opened her mouth again.

"What magic did you do?"

"I secured the ruins so the pile of stones wouldn't come down upon you while your Demented Trio is underneath."

"You silly boy," Hermione laughed at him. "If Hogwarts didn't fall upon us all those years we went here to school, why should it now?"

"Because, you silly girl," he answered. "Hogwarts is ruined. In case you haven't noticed it before, and it seems you haven't, it's just a pile of rocks."

She ceased her laughter and send him a puzzled look, then turned and gazed at the castle. He was right – it was indeed nothing but a pile of rocks. How could she have forgotten that? But this was what they were after, wasn't it? Lethe, oblivion, forgetfulness. Memories were bad.

"Memories are bad," she spoke aloud, though more to herself. "I don't want to remember. I want to forget. Help me forget, Draco."

Only if you help me forget, he thought.

"All right, Granger, let's go," he took her by the hand and led her to the rocky mass. "In you go, to your dear friends before they get themselves into trouble."

"I'll follow you," he reassured when she gave him a hesitative glance.

---

"The Great Hall is kind of small, too," Ron observed, as the four of them had settled down in the largest hollow they were able to find and access. It was a misshapen ring of stones with the diameter of approximately 10 feet and twice that high. The ceiling was missing.

"But the ceiling is still enchanted," said Harry, turning to the night sky.

"There's no ceiling, Harry," Hermione corrected, and Draco suddenly wondered whether she was only pretending to be drunk.

"Where did the ceiling go?" Ron demanded.

"I suppose it was destroyed in the battle. Like the rest of the castle," she explained.

"Don't say it!" Harry exclaimed. "Don't say the B-word."

"What word? Oh, you mean battle..."

"Don't say it! How can we forget it if all you do is keep reminding it to us!"

"You're right, Harry. Sorry," she apologized.

The next half an hour was spent in silence as everybody slowly drank whatever they managed to get hold of (Draco had Butterbeer – he had realized that the only thing worse than being with drunk Gryffindors was probably being drunk with drunk Gryffindors. Perhaps it would have been more pleasant for the moment, but he was not going to think in whose arms he might wake up in the morning), and tried not to remember. I didn't work.

"I know," said Hermione suddenly, getting the look she usually got just before dashing off to the library. "We should do something to keep our mind occupied. And I know just the thing," she smiled.

"What?" Ron asked wearily.

"Since Hogwarts got destroyed and since it was partly our fault, we should think about founding a new school for witches and wizards."

"Not the S-word!" Ron whined. "Why does it always has to be something about school with you?"

"Would you rather I talk about the bat--"

"Great idea!" Harry quickly interrupted.

"Yea.." Ron agreed grudgingly.


My red piggy Surra Murra would like you to leave a REVIEW. :)