This chapter is pretty bad too. It suffers from the same stuff but somehow ever worse. Dialogue is not my thing and in my defense english is my fourth language.
Chapter Two: Reunions
He'd entered the party with a bang.
Reasoning that it was *his* party, he'd decided to make an entrance by bursting in a through the windows, smoke trailing behind him. He'd entered with such force that he'd have cracked the glass and thrown the window from its hinge were it not for the unbreakable enchantments of Hogwarts.
As he clinked glasses with Lee Jordan and the twins, Harry spared a glance at Malfoy's hiding spot near the corner under the stairs. He'd chosen his hiding spot well, Harry admitted. Having expended more than the necessary amount of magic to make his entrance, he hoped that Malfoy might carry stories of how he flew all the way to Hogwarts. He hoped that he might be able to dissuade the little death eaters from joining the crusade, or just scare them a little if nothing else.
He lost his train of thought as he ducked another squealing girl, barely turning a hug into a handshake. He'd spied Dean Thomas over by the drinks earlier, and didn't care for having his every move reported to Ginny. His eyes narrowed as he tuned out the conversation and focused his magic on Dean. It was like finding a particularly nasty bug in one's flowers. Maybe this was the year he did something about Ginny's 'best friend'.
"...and Ron'll be so glad to finally see ya".
Ron's name broke him out of his thoughts.
"Yeah, we heard from him how Dumbledore had you cooped up and all, must've been a straight mess".
Harry snorted, "You have no idea mate. Couldn't have sent a bloody letter to save my life. Didn't even let me go to Diagon to buy my books," he chugged the rest of his firewhisky. He never much liked lying to friends.
Stopping the chorus of 'old man Dumbles' jokes before they began, Harry inquired, "Speaking off, have any of you seen Ron? He and I were supposed to-"
Alica and Comrac interrupted him simultaneously, but it was Comrac who kept talking, "Oh mate you have no idea. Ron's been having a hell of a good time ever since he got back".
Harry raised an eyebrow inquisitively at Alica, who hesitantly added, "Ron's been partying a little too much recently. I get that its welcome week but you can't sleep through quidditch practice".
Harry rose to defend his friend, laughing, "You should see me on a broom. Ron could outfly me even if he decided to pass out in the air halfway through".
Alica shied from away from saying more, but Comrac just huffed and had to have the last word, "If you see him without a j in his mouth, come and let me know. I'll have Dennis take a picture so it'll last longer".
Harry noted how Fred and George kept their mouths shut as laughter filled the room, even Katie hiding a smile at comic's joke. Their silence and the tone of the room spoke volumes. Harry resolved to find Ron as soon as he could. Only Seamus seemed to eye Comrac with distaste, and hurried to change the topic.
Harry tuned out the conversation after giving some nonsense cryptic reply over why he'd gotten a tan. He'd forgotten what he'd said almost as soon as he said it, his mind going deep into his magic as he put his face on. He tuned out their arguments over his meaningless comments and began to search for Ron. It was strange that he hadn't found him by now. Inwardly he cursed at how different the Weasley siblings were. Ginny shone like a bonfire to his senses while Ron was always hovering at the edges, nearly invisible. Still, he needed to find Ron and warn him about Malfoy's presence. Two heads were better-
"..from Hermione?"
The name triggered his conscious mind, and he returned to the conversation.
"Sorry, what'd you say?" Harry responded, his eyes clearing up in an instant.
Demelza blinked, and Harry inwardly cursed. Given by how everyone was looking at him, he hadn't done a good job of putting on his face. Had three months in the wild really changed him irreparably? He fought the urge to flee as Demelza took the heat off him.
"Have you heard from Hermione recently? How's America been treating her," she repeated.
"I actually haven't heard from her in a while, but last we talked she was doing fine. We talked a bit over the muggle telephone," he lied. He took a sip of his drink to mask the foul taste on his tongue.
Parvati wrinkled her nose. Katie seemed dissatisfied by his answer, "Did you pass on our message? How come she never responded to our letters?"
"You know, I just stopped writing to her after the third sarcastic letter," Parvati chimed in. Harry's right eye twitched at her tone.
Alica turned to Demelza, "I wrote to her all of last year telling her how much I missed her and what a mess things were, and she didn't even respond once".
Seamus rolled his eyes, "Hell, I don't think last year was as messed for her as it was for us, so she really doesn't have an excuse".
Comrac returned with three drinks, pushing through Katie and nearly spilling his drink on her. Ignoring her annoyed 'hey', he handed one of the drinks to Harry and the other to Lee. Harry was thankful for the distraction, and for the drink.
And the feast drained on. Slowly but sure, the party dispersed, most people just having better things to do.
As Comarc and Lee began to plan a game of gobstones, Harry resigning himself to just watching, they all took up a place near the fire. Harry ended up sandwiched between Comrac and Katie, while Lee set up the board opposite him. He sipped idly at his drink as the chatter around him continued. He wanted to finish his drink and go looking for Ron. He had a lot to catch his best friend up on. Dumbledore's picture felt heavy in his pocket. He needed Ron's advice, and more importantly he needed Ron's dreams.
It was Katie who broke his train of thought by tugging softly on his robe, her voice just quiet enough to prevent eavesdroppers in such a crowd, "So, you actually came back?"
Harry would've been amused by the shock in her voice, had McLaggen not handed him some five drinks already. He almost burped a response before covering his mouth and muttering an 'excuse me'.
Katie smiled as her eyes danced, her finger came up to quickly brush against his unshaven scruff, "You look like you enjoyed your summer though?"
Harry nodded, he wasn't even close to being drunk he resolved. Flitwick had once downed an entire bottle of Odgen's Finest to demonstrate the potent defences of a magus, and Harry had already noticed some of his hairs turning white. He met Katie's eyes while stifling another burp.
"If you're asking where I was, you of all people should know," he made sure to be as quiet as he could in the crowd, relaxing his shoulders and angling his body towards her.
Katie seemed to be enjoying the moment, "You're a little close Harry," she whispered, her eyes moved over to the corner of the room, "Dean's on the prowl tonight, you don't want to get in trouble".
The whisky turned sour in Harry's mouth as he made sure to slowly inch away. His eyes moved over to Dean, seated alone in the corner, subtly watching over the cool kids. Dean wouldn't have approached him on his own but Harry would have said hello if he... Well that's not true he just wouldn't have said hello to Dean. Dean reminded him of a more vengeful, weaker and all around pathetic version of himself when he was eleven. If he had also been a colossal prick that kept obsessing over girls who had no interest in him.
Katie seemed to notice his sudden discomfort, and moved even closer towards him.
"Are you going to do something about that?" her voice too innocent and playful for her actions.
Harry let out an undignified grunt as he finished his drink. He leaned back, stretching out his arms and landing them on top of the backrest. His drink dangling over Katie's side, he might as well have put his arm around her if not for...
"Quit it Harry let me concentrate!" Comrac protested as he gripped his ear from behind and gave it a slight yank. The game wasn't going so well for him Harry idly noted.
"Concentrate on getting me another drink, would you mate?" Harry posed playfully. He clinked his empty glass on the wooden backrest and leaned back, relaxing in the Gryffindor hearth.
Comrac didn't even bother taking his eyes off the game, "Ask Katie, she's closer".
Katie didn't bother waiting for him to ask, taking Harry's glass and heading for the drinks table in a twirl. Demelza and Alica watched her go, retreating into their own private conversation on the other side of the fire.
Harry took the moment to ease his muscles a little more. It had been so long since he'd actually be able to relax, he'd almost forgotten what it'd felt like. He absently noted, as his abdominal muscles contorted under his robes, that Dean was paying rather close attention to Katie while she mixed him a drink. Harry really was beginning to seriously consider Katie's earlier suggestion.
Turning his attention to the board, he sent a few snide comments Comrac's way and gave Lee a quick high five. Seamus jumped in and began to pressure Harry into a game of gobstones he'd surly have agreed to, had Demelza not captured his attention with a story of how her summer had almost turned dangerous.
"And the entire building came down right next to us! We were just a few blocks away, and my dad actually went out to see what was going on," describing how she and her family and nearly been caught in the Paris bombings. Normally Harry would have just let the story go, but given how his own summer had gone, he felt he had the right to chime in.
By the time Katie returned with his ice cold drink, he was thoroughly enjoying himself, the crowd captured by his story of his encounter with the Quintaped.
"You're a doll Katie," he slurred, interrupting his story to eye the arrangement of limes and cherries in his drink. The girl in question only gave a non-committal shrug and a smile before plopping down right next to him.
"Do you mind Harry?" Alica prodded, urging him to continue.
"What're you all talking about?" Katie posed, faster than Harry to the question. Or maybe Harry was just being slow. He eyed his drink warily.
"Harry fought a Quintaped this summer! Can we get back to the story now?" Demelza exclaimed, as if that was all the explanation Katie needed.
Harry felt as if he needed to clear up Katies shellshocked expression, "Dem's just bein' nice. I didn't fight the thing so much as I did try and run away from it".
He tilted his drink towards Demelza, nearly spilling some, "Its nice that you think I could actually fight one of those things though".
Demelza beamed as Comrac piped in, his game happily forgotten, "I still don't get while you were on the Isle of Drear mate, but the tan looks good on you".
Harry, curious why everyone kept bringing it up, "Is is that noticeable? Like even right now?"
Seamus shrugged, but nodded along with Katie and Alica, "The fire's kinda bright but yeah mate, you don't even look like a Brit anymore".
Alica seemed to agree, "He looks Greek. Did you go to Greece at all this summer Harry? You said you were in Turkey so-"
Katie interrupted her, moving closer to Harry as if to examine him, "He actually looks more Turkish than Greek. You didn't use that muggle machine that makes your skin darker did you?"
Harry laughed, "No, no, this is all just from some training I've been doing. Don't worry about it, now that I'm back to Hogwarts weather, this'll all wear off in no time".
Laughter strung out through the common room. Harry smiled, a bitter taste clinging to the inside of his mouth. As if he could actually stay.
He felt Katie shift next to him, and Alica's voice broke out, "At least finish the story!"
"Please, I'm dying to know how you're not a ghost," Seamus added.
The smile didn't fade as he opened his eyes to continue. He'd missed his friends.
His head hurt and it was way too late.
He stalked the corridors of Hogwarts castle. He needed to find George and Fred. Or was it Fred and George? he wondered whether there was really any difference as he passed the same portrait for the third time. Coming to a stop, he blinked and tried to clear his head.
Midnight had already fallen, he realized as he eyed the sky through the arching castle windows. Moonlight flooded the hallways, casting everything in a pale and ghostly light. Around him, the portraits went about their nightly business. Some scanning for students out past curfew, some asleep and some hopping between frames on their way through the castle.
Harry snorted. He made sure to do it loudly. Almost every painting and the enchanted suits of armour that lined the hallway should have heard him and come crushing down upon this student so blatantly in violation of the rules. Yet, nothing came. Not a single portrait moved, and the suits of armour bled into the background in the moonlight.
There was a time, Harry idly noted, when this would have been an extreme challenge for him. When sneaking through the corridors at night would have inspired fear in him and his friends. He sighed, his drunk mind waxing nostalgic. How quickly childhood unravels. Someone had said that to him once.
He tried to clear his mind once more, this time letting his eyes burn bright with emerald light that shot into the castle. He could see Fred and George close by. He'd hoped to find them in the dorms after everyone had gone to sleep, but their beds had been filled with decoys meant for McGonagall.
Thankfully, the twins were among the easier Weasley siblings to locate. The fact that they were always together was unique in and off itself. Together, the two of them resonated well with each other and broadcast a distinct scent to Harry's magical magical nose.
He came to a rather sudden stop in front of a statue. Harry crinkled his forehead. This wasn't where he remembered it being. Had he come the wrong way again? A brief burst of emerald light told him that the twins were indeed directly ahead but...
There should have been a hallway where a statue now stood. Harry dumbly tired to look around the statue, maybe hoping to find a hole he could crawl through but found a wall staring back at him. His confusion intensified as he now realized that he was almost nose to nose with a statue, somehow at a dead in smack dab in the middle of Hogwarts' hallways.
A privacy spell burst into existence behind him. The laughter the laughter that followed broke his concentration, and scuttled his fears.
His shoulders slumped as he turned around to greet the twins staring glibly at him. Their smiles were infectious, and Harry couldn't help but match them.
"Ha Ha, very funny guys," he said sardonically.
"What is this, a lost little lamb we've found George," said George.
"Indeed we have Fred, found him trying to substitute a statue for our sister have we?," added Fred.
Harry ignored the jest and turned back to the statue, "What is this, some kind of false wall?"
George feigned surprise, "I dunno Harry, methinks you just wandered down the wrong way. What say you George?"
Fred nodded sagely, "I concur, you've forgotten the lay of the land after leaving England for so long".
The twins started expectantly at him, but Harry merely rolled his eyes as he reached out with his mind magic. Gentle mental fingers brushed against the braille book of the mind and Harry smirked as knowledge rushed through his eyes.
He turned towards the false dead end, "I bet you two just called it something nuts. You couldn't go easy and just sell it as a false illusion receptacle, you guys probably called it something ridiculous".
Fred seemed impressed, "Damn Harry, how do you always do that?"
Harry smirked. Legilimency worked wonders on those who didn't even know it existed, "Just gave it a quick inspection that's all, what're you guys calling it?"
"Dumb Man's Dead End Powder!" George practically exclaimed.
As Harry reached out to rub his fingers against the wall, Fred chimed in, "Well, its a working title. But what do you think Harry, we made good use of that Triwizard money eh?"
Harry absentmindedly nodded. It actually was rather impressive. He knew from his legilimency probe that all that was required was tearing open a sachet of powder and spilling it onto the ground. He even felt the illusory dust on his fingers as he inspected the false wall. A small pulse of magic he sent out actually returned saying that the wall was really there!
Harry shook his head, "Have you guys shown this to Snape? This is some really impressive potions work and-"
Fred didn't seem to want to hear it, "Bugger Snape Harry, we're going to show this to the whole world once we're out of here".
George pulled out a small pouch and began to rummage within, "When you're a little less sloshed you oughta come and find us, we got a lot to talk about y'know. If we're actually going to take these things to market safely".
Harry agreed. As George handed him a sachet of green powder, Harry closely tried to examine as much about it as he could. It really was an impressive piece of work. Any wizard could, without the use of a wand or any prior knowledge, cast a spell that created a hard false-illusion that could adapt to a variety of circumstances.
"And if I did this in a forest while someone was chasing me-"
George excitedly nodded, "If you spilled it between two trees, maybe you'd get a wall of vines or cobwebs. We tested it with the entrance to Nimue's Cave, and as much as we could around the burrow. It worked fine, except when we threw it in the river".
Fred waved him off, "Even that's fixable, we just gotta make it heavier. It already repels water, with a little bit of work it should sink right down".
George echoed his brothers sentiments, about to add on to the usefulness of his product when Harry interrupted him, "Guys, this is great and all, but I just got back. I was looking for you two for a reason".
They seemed amused by his answer, clearly enjoying his drunkenness, "And however can we help the illustrious Harry Potter?"
Usually, Harry would have kid around with the twins a bit more, but as the moon sank lower into the sky, he realized he was running short on time.
"You guys have any idea where Ron is?" Harry asked, rubbing his temples. The twins had a way of coming across like children, energetic and exciting, but utterly tiring to a drunk Harry.
The twins blinked in unison and turned to stare at each other, George answering for them both, "No, we thought that he joined the rest of you guys in the common room. He didn't come down?"
Harry grew more disturbed with each passing word, "No, I haven't even seen him since I got back. Where is he, and why wasn't he in the common room?"
Fred and George exchanged another glance, "We all found out you were going to be coming yesterday".
George continued, "Ron's been a bit out of sorts over the summer. When we got back... well, you best go see for yourself".
Fred didn't seem to want to mince words, "Yeah, we talked to him this morning when we realized he hadn't come down at all yesterday".
"Told him you were coming and all. He said he had a fair bit of work to catch up on, and that he might've been a bit late but..." George trailed off.
Fred leaned forward as George drew back, "Listen mate, I know you're sloshed to hell, but we need to talk about Ron as well".
George looked out the window and into the night sky, not meeting Harry's eyes, "I don't know if you got our letters, but life at the burrow wasn't exactly easy this summer".
Harry felt shame creep up in his throat, "About that, guys Dumbledore had my mail and-"
George waved him off, "Don't worry about it, just go find Ron yeah? And try and catch us tomorrow Harry. Like I said, lots to talk about".
Fred patted him on the shoulder and they both made to move towards the illusory wall. George sparing a look back at Harry as he moved through the false dead end and out the other side. Harry stood for a moment, watching them go through mystic eyes. He admired their work as well. They couldn't fool his eyes, but almost no illusion could. He spend a moment observing the wall and statue with newfound clarity, his wand inching forward slowly towards the statue's eye.
"*Finite*," he whispered. The illusion instantly came undone, breaking apart into a thick, fluorescent green smoke that exploded into being as the wall vanished. The sudden burst of pungent gas surprised Harry, and he nearly vomited as he smelled how revolting the ensuing gas was. His invisibility charms came undone as the smoke washed over him and he coughed violently into his sleeve.
"Good lord!"
"My goodness, I do protest!"
"Guards! Guards! Come quick there's a boy out of bed!"
"What's the racket-"
"Oh Lord it burns, it burns! Stop this please!"
His protections dispelled, Harry bolted from the hallway, using the foul smoke as he cover, he quickly turned a corner and reapplied his protections. As he felt Mrs. Norris' distinct magic come into his periphery, he turned and cast a full set of illusory protections to throw off the cat's senses.
Her meows echoed through the castle as Harry made for the Room of Requirement.
As Harry neared the Room of Requirement, his nostalgia kicked into full force. Maybe it was because he was drunk. Maybe it was because he wondered how things had gotten so messed up so fast. He remembered walking up these very steps, Ron and Hermione at his side, as he took his first few steps into the world of magic. The first few steps to growing a spine and standing up for himself, wand in hand. It had once been so wondrous. He absently blinked his eyes dry. The drink was making him too sentimental.
He hadn't realized that he'd already reached his destination. The true dead end that blocked the path to the room of requirement stood in his way. His eyes closed on their own, and he instinctively began to walk across it three times. He could have forced it open, or just have used legilimency. His tutelage under the Moon Princess had broadened his understanding of the room, and being in its presence after her teachings felt strange to him.
'*I seek the place where all my troubles melt away*', Ron could have been nowhere else.
He opened his eyes to find a door embedded itself in the wall. The handle felt warm as Harry moved to enter the illusion. The difference between his new surroundings and the dark of the hallway hit his drunk mind like a truck.
Soft jazz music filled the air, sunlight streamed in from a glass ceiling that shone a cloudless sky. Fountains trickled throughout the room, their blessed water working to purify the air. He stepped onto the lush grass that grew in patches throughout the room, the soft wood creaking under his weight. He noted the distinct purple tint to the entire space.
In the centre of it all was his friend; lazing about on a series of sofas that circled a pile of books, a radio, several quidditch magazines, and the rest of most of Ron's belongings. The sunlight looked good on him, Harry abruptly realized. Ron and Ginny had the same hair, but Ron's only seemed to come alive when he was in this room. The man in question had finally noticed Harry and turned his head, a smouldering joint sticking out of his mouth.
Their eyes met and Harry resisted the urge to use legilimency on his friend. Ron would know, and that wasn't how he wanted to start their reunion. Not after he'd-
"You son of a bitch!" Ron practically screamed, purple smoke and cigarette flying out of his mouth with a healthy amount of spittle.
Ron stood, throwing a blanket off his shirtless body. He'd risen so quickly that he'd flung the bowl of snacks in his lap halfway across the room. He nearly lost his balance and fell when his foot landed in a bucket Harry didn't particularly care to closely examine.
Nonetheless, he persevered. Steadying himself on the spine of the couch, he flung his foot towards the far end of the room. It only took three kicks for the bucket to go flying into the wall, a series of cans and vials scattering across the grouping of beanbags near the back. With his leg free, Ron's attention turned to Harry.
Harry was already halfway there. Door shut and sealed behind him, his arms instinctively struck out to embrace his friend. His drunkenness and whatever state Ron was in helped him ignore that Ron was shirtless as they hugged, his momentum nearly throwing Harry into the air.
He didn't much mind that his friend didn't have a shirt on. Ron was someone he'd deeply missed. It felt good to see him again.
They broke apart almost immediately, both beaming like firsties having snuck into the girl's changing rooms after a hard-won game. Ron's hands slammed down on his shoulders so hard they'd have buckled a lesser man's knees.
"You son of a bitch! The hell have you been huh!" Harry loved Ron dearly but the spittle was a little much.
He backed away and cleaned his face with a wave of his wand, then looked into his friend's bloodshot eyes. Ron's eyes didn't match the grin on his face, but Harry still found his smile every bit as infections as the twins'.
He shrugged, "You know, a little bit of this, a little bit of that, just headed off to Paris, took in the-"
Ron's hand moved faster than he'd expected and Harry would later maintain that it had only been due to his drunkenness. His open palm struck Harry's ear fast and true, leaving a horrid ringing in his hungover mind.
"Goddamit Ron! Go easy on me, I'm hungover as hell. I had like twenty drinks," he protested holding his ear.
Ron only seemed to smile even more, "Go easy on you? You vanish on my ass for three months and you think I'm gonna go easy on you? And what're you doing drinking without me in the first place?"
Harry bit back, "What're you doing smoking without me then? And where were you? We had a good time in the common room. Hell, you missed Demelza dude. You should've seen what she had on when-"
Ron interrupted him, "Wait, what?" That was when?"
Harry wasn't surprised by Ron's answer but before he could say another word, Ron was already racing away from him like a madman. Harry winced inwardly at his friends energy, just what was Ron on?
Before he could speak, Ron had begin rummaging in the chests that littered the room. Harry watched as his friend withdraw his wand, unicorn hair ever sticking out the pointy end, along with a handful of perfectly rolled purple cigarettes.
With a wave of his wand, the purple cones began to levitate behind Ron as he walked back to Harry and took a seat on the nearest bean bag.
"Shit mate sorry for missing your welcome back jerk off. I wanted to drink, not watch Seamus suck you dry. Let's fix that now though, yeah?" he said, plucking a joint from the volatile pile and motioning to the seat next to him.
Harry was too tired to argue. Ron's room had that effect on a person. The smile came unbidden to his face as he unceremoniously plopped down next to Ron. He took his glasses off and tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose, he felt Ron light the cigarette with a flick of his wand. Just one, he assured himself. Just one while he caught up with Ron, and to get rid of his headache before he went to see Ginny.
Leaning back, Harry let his facade drop for the first time tonight. His magic pulled into himself, coalescing as he relaxed. He didn't have a care in the world. Not here, not in this room. The smouldering sound bit into his ear as Ron inhaled. The smile came unbidden to his face as he hoped his friend wouldn't slobber all over the filter.
He watched his friend exhale, the thick purple smoke billowing out of his nose, ears and mouth. His eyes glazed over as he leaned back, trying to keep his throat from coughing. Harry snorted as he saw his friend struggle, and plucked the joint from his outstretched hand.
He let it burn for a moment as Ron spoke up, "What's with the tan?"
Harry tossed him the nearest bottle in his reach. He watched as Ron eagerly tipped it in thanks and took a long drink.
"It's that obvious huh? The girls all seem to love it, though Katie said I looked Turkish if you can believe it," he finished his remark by placing the joint at his lips and inhaling deeply.
The purple smoke rushed down his throat as the embers churned; Harry subtly manipulated the magical herb to burn faster, deeper, as he continued to inhale. Ron watched with a single eyebrow raised. It filled his lungs in an instant.
He removed the joint and closed his eyes, letting the smoke come rushing out of all his oral orifices at once. Acutely tuned magic circuits in his eyes responded to the drug's call as a pink glaze worked its way over his eyes. He let the cigarette hang in the air, enjoying the abrupt feeling of nostalgia and relaxation that immediately took hold of him.
Ron swiped the joint back in an instant, "Bitches are right Harry, you do look Turkish. The hell have you been mate?"
Harry didn't bother holding back, "Fuck Ron. This summer got real messed, real fast. I know Dumbledore told you he had me under lock and key and that's why-"
Ron interjected, "Nah, I knew that was bullshit. I saw you, you know, running from him. Saw that a lot".
Harry was a little taken back by the tone of his voice, but relaxed as Ron continued, "I just ate that crap for Ginny's sake. I don't think she bought it either, but I did what I could for you mate".
Harry's eyes flickered over to his shirtless comrade. Friend really was the wrong word to describe their relationship. He knew Ron had several brothers, and a sister to boot, but Harry had always considered Ron his only one. He hoped his eyes could convey his gratitude, and his shame.
"Thanks mate," he said simply, passing Ron the burning herb.
Ron shook his head as he took it, "Don't worry. But you were about to tell me what you'd actually been up to, yeah?"
Harry nodded, but as he was about to continue, Ron noisily stretched a single arm far into the air and brought it down to begin scratching his back.
Harry didn't care to see more of Ron's armpits, "Mate, would you throw on a shirt yeah?"
Ron laughed in response, inhaling and scratching at the same time. He spoke as he exhaled, purple smoke clouding his speech, "You're bonkers mate, you're the one that needs to take you're shirt off!"
Harry snorted in response, "No homo yeah?"
Ron rolled his eyes and passed him the cigarette, "Look around you, I changed things up a bit. You really want to sweat through your fancy robes?"
Harry didn't think his robes were particularly fancy, but he conceded to Ron's point. The air smelt of freshly cut grass, tinged with a thick sweet odour, and the sunlight felt across his skin in soothing waves. Above him, the cloudless sky shone beautifully, the wafting purple smoke only enhancing the room. Ron had a wonderful imagination, Harry noted. Despite never having been there, Ron had brought California back to Harry.
"I'll pass on that yeah," he replied, doing his best not to cough as he loudly exhaled.
Ron shrugged and took the joint back, but Harry noticed how he'd tensed up after his refusal, "Whatever you say man. Anyways, back to where you'd been?"
Harry again resisted the urge to use legilimency. Ignoring the feeling that something was off, he turned towards his friend, "Shit Ron, this summer started out a mess. I was supposed to be in America a week yeah? Remember my first letter?"
Ron nodded, taking a second drag to steady himself, "I remember your only letter, yeah".
Harry didn't let his hurt at Ron's anger show, "That went to shit almost from the start. Guess who showed up at Slughorn's doorstep on our first day, right under the MACUSA guards?"
Ron motioned for Harry to hurry, passing him the joint. Harry put it to his lips before answering, "Fucking Death Eaters".
Ron stared as Harry inhaled, his eyes widening as he impatiently waited for Harry to continue.
Harry quickly acquiesced, "Not just any fucking Death Eaters. Black's old pals. Fucking Rodolphus Lestrange and his merry band found out Slughorn was in New York and somehow managed to find both of us".
Ron snatched the cigarette out of his hand, "The fuck Harry, what the fuck! Why the fuck was Rodolphus fucking Lestrange looking for you in New York? The point was to go with Slughorn because you'd be safe and-"
Harry interrupted Ron with a snort, "Slughorn's dead".
He could have probably timed that better, as Ron had been in the middle of inhaling. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he turned away from Harry, his mouth exploding away from the joint and sputtering purple smoke and spittle. Harry waited patiently as Ron coughed his lungs out, quietly casting a charm to make Ron's drink walk over to him. He absently added a cooling charm as well, to help with his throat.
Ron didn't bother with his drink, "What the fuck Harry! This is the kind of shit you put in a letter every now and then!"
Harry glanced over as Ron began to drink, the joint all but forgotten on the ground. He'd hoped to break the news to Ron easily, but Slughorn's death had been the first step in the long chain of disasters that made up his summer. He wasn't going to sugarcoat it for Ron.
"It gets worse," he continued as Ron snatched another cigarette from the air, "After that I ended up stuck in New York. I barely managed to lose the death eaters, and I managed to get through to Dumbledore. But, by the time he'd caught up with me I'd had to leave New York".
Ron's let out a cloud of purple smoke, the awe evident on his face, "Fuck Harry, what happened? Where'd you go?"
Harry sighed, taking the cigarette from Ron, "It got really messed up really fast Ron. Slughorn got hit by a stray shot, I think. Some idiot. I don't get why, both of us were people they'd want to capture, not kill..."
He let that thought hang in the air and exhaled, "Anyways, I managed to get away from them and send a message to Dumbledore. For some reason, the stupid American owl took forever to reach him and by the time Dumbledore got to New York I was already gone".
He moved the joint over to Ron, "Apparently a fifteen year old kid hiding away in the cheapest room in New York attracts a lot of attention".
Ron was less focused on the joint than he was on Harry, despite it being his toke. His eyes seemed sharp; bloodshot but they seemed completely unaware that they were supposed to be high.
"So what happened after they found you the second time? End up blasting the hotel apart to escape?" Harry didn't need legilimency to feel the worry in Ron's voice.
He shook his head, "Shit Ron, they found me while I was in the damn Woodworth building. Some random woman recognized my face, and before I knew it she was flinging curses at me in broad daylight. It was stupid of me to go back there, but I was hoping someone had reported Slughorn's death and...".
Ron listened in rapt attention, inhaling deeply as Harry continued, "I don't know, but she somehow signalled all her buddies to join up. I ran, and it ended up in total chaos. The MACUSA wizards are complete trash by the way. You'd think they'd have better security given that they're at war. Some twenty death eaters chased me till I hit a dead end in International Portkey Departures".
Harry took the joint from Ron before he had a chance to speak, and took a deep drag as Ron broke the silence, "Jesus Harry. Then what? You manage to grab hold of a random portkey?"
"Not exactly," Harry replied, exhaling as the memory of the incident floated before his eyes. His wand felt heavy in his hand, and Harry desperately hoped Ron wouldn't notice the lesions running down deep through the holly wood. That was the first instance of his inevitable divorce, he thought bitterly. A sudden urgency to find a suitable replacement, and to leave Hogwarts to do so, came over his mind.
He continued, ignoring the urge and passing the joint to Ron, "But yeah, something of the sort. I ended up catching some tourist's portkey to Los Angeles, along with three of Rodolphus' boys".
He leaned over towards Ron, "You're not gonna believe this. Remember Sylvian Thomas?"
Ron crinkled his brow in thought, "Yeah, he was a seventh year back when we were firsties. I think".
Harry shook his head and accepted the joint, "He was a fifth year when we were eleven but yeah. Anyways, he was one of the death eaters that ended up following me to California".
Ron's eyes widened as he took in what Harry said, "You can't be... Are you serious? Wasn't he nineteen or something? What's someone our age doing with-"
Ron cut himself off as he racked his brain. For all those who spoke of his friend's rough nature, Harry knew that Ron wasn't dumb. Even so strongly under the influence, Ron's mind refused to be shushed.
"Why is no one talking about it? If You-Know-Who is actually getting kids our age to sign up with him then-"
Harry passed him the joint, "Nah, it could have been a coincidence. He just happened to be the only death eater that I recognized, I didn't even get a clear look at the rest".
Ron prodded him to continue, "What happened in California?"
A dull throbbing had begun earlier in Harry's head and he eagerly sucked at the cigarette to help the ache, "Fuck Ron. I don't even know how I managed to take them out. Those guys weren't fucking around, but after I cut one of them pretty bad the other two decided to run off. Anyways, from there I ended up stuck on the streets in Los Angeles. I didn't even have any way to get to Dumbledore, and one of those bastards hit me with a weird curse".
Ron's interest piqued at that, "What do you mean 'a weird curse'?"
Harry snarled, "A tracking charm. I never found exactly how accurate it was, but it definitely told them the neighbourhood I was in".
He looked down at his hands as Ron lit another cigarette, "I think my mom's blood... Threw them off or something. They always just barely managed to miss me. The fuckers always had anti-apparition wards to fuck me with, but they never managed to catch me".
"Fuck Harry," was all Ron said. His friend passed him the joint and Harry took a deep and grateful toke.
He continued, emotions and words coming loose for the first time in a long while, "Fuck, it was a real shit-show. I don't know just how long that stupid tracer lasted, but it was definitely over a week. By the time they were done chasing me, fuck Ron, let me tell you where all I've been. But first...".
He leaned over, reaching into his robes to pull out Dumbledore's white envelope. With care, the handed it over to Ron.
Ron took both the joint and the envelope, plopping the former into his mouth and inhaling as he worked the envelope open.
As his hands pulled out the enclosed photograph, Ron's eyes froze and the joint fell from his lips onto his lap. The smouldering embers slowly bit at his pants, but Ron paid them no mind. He was utterly transfixed by the image that Harry had just produced. In his eyes, Harry saw a reaction similar what his own had been when he'd first seen the picture. Intense nostalgia, followed bye sadness and longing. Their first glimpse of her in nearly three years.
He spoke after a long while, his voice hoarse, "Fuck, Hermione got hot."
Harry nodded sagely. There was wisdom in Ron's words.
Ron continued, eyes glued to the photo, "I mean, sure we all grew up but I kind of expected Hermione to- Hell, I didn't think that- Fuck man, I sure as shit wasn't expecting this, damn..."
The photo in question was of a decidedly beautiful woman, despite her injuries. Her face was bruised and her lip was bleeding. One of her eyes was turning black and puffy, as if it had been recently struck. The woman stood tall and strong though, dressed far beyond her years. A camo vest was draped over a rather tight fitting white shirt that stood an inch away from bursting open. Her black pants simultaneously hugged her impressive figure and held enough potions to drive Snape green with envy. Neon pink and baby blue tinted sunglasses, modelled in a heterochromatic fashion, covered her sparkling eyes. A defiant smile danced on her lips.
Harry saw Ron's knuckles turn white as he held the still image.
Bushy brown hair exploded all down her back. Despite her injuries, she'd clearly posed for this photograph. Her exhaustion was shown as she hunched slightly while leaning against the tree, but it was clearly the aftermath of victory.
His hand reached down to grasp the fallen joint, but his eyes never moved, "Fuck Harry this is- This means that- She's fucking alive Harry!"
Ron had practically screamed the last bit into Harry's ear, turning to stare at him with beet red eyes.
Harry swallowed, his throat felt uneasy but jut saying it somehow gave him relief, "Yeah. She's alive".
Ron looked back to the photo in his hands, gingerly holding it as if it would tear in his hands like gold leaf, "Where? And-"
Harry cut him off, "Look at the back".
Ron turned it over immediately, but Harry felt the confusion radiating from him only grow, "Snowfield, 1994? Where the fuck is Snowfield and what was Hermione doing there?"
Harry sighed, rubbing his temples as he began to explain, "I got this photo from Dumbledore, who got it from the church. Apparently some stuff went down in America last year. Snowfield is the tiny, backwater town where it all took place. The church got pretty deep into it and ended up sending down executors-"
Ron paled and nearly let the joint slip from his fingers again, "Executors! Blimey mate what're the heretic hunters doing getting mixed up in this? Just what is Hermione doing?"
Harry let his confusion show as well, he had no need to put his mask on with Ron, "It doesn't make any sense to me either, but it was an executor that found that photo".
If possible, the blood further drained from Ron's face as he eyed the photo with renewed danger, "Jesus fuck, where?"
Harry took the cigarette from Ron, "That's the tricky bit. The church apparently came late to the party. By the time they got there, the whole thing in Snowfield had been hushed up and everyone involved had left the city".
He tapped the photo in Ron's hand with his wand, letting slight distortions ripple through the image, "They found this picture in an abandoned warehouse. The place stank of heresy apparently, but it'd been cleared out pretty well. Apart from a few knickknacks and some dead thralls kept as cattle, all they found was this".
Ron watched as the ripples began to increase in frequency, his voice tinged with pain, "Hermione always did love scrapbooking... You think she still has those pictures of our first year?"
Harry pretended not to hear him, "Whoever found it probably realized that they should ask around. The picture ended up making its way through the church. Someone high up apparently owed Dumbledore a favour. Remember how Dumbledore put the word out years ago? We finally got a lead".
Ron could only mindlessly nod as the ripples began to cover any trace of the image itself, his eyes were transfixed as a shape began to emerge from the image. Long white hair came first, ruby red eyes slowly following from the surface as the photo began to change.
"Dumbledore showed me a hell of a spell," Harry continued, looking away from the picture, "It shows you the person that made the art you're looking at. Supposed to prevent forgeries by showing artist that drew the paining. Turns out it can also show the man that took the photo".
The face that remained was alien to them. Even in the light of the sun, the pale skin seemed to eschew all brightness and retreat into a ghostly white. A hungry smile revealed canines far too sharp for men, and bloody red eyes that served to only confirm his identity. His long white hair fell behind him, a prominent widow's peak turning his face oddly long.
"Harry..." Ron's voice sounded weak, "Who is this?"
Harry didn't bother looking down. He flicked what remained of the joint onto the floor, "His name's apparently Jester Karture. A dead apostle, and someone the executors have been after for a long time".