Chapter 11 The Sobering

The first thing Vernon was really aware of was the fact that someone had used his mouth as a trash receptacle or perhaps a toilet. He wasn't terribly sure which but he knew that whichever it was it was foul. The next thing he was sure of was that before using his mouth in such a disgusting manor someone had scrubbed his throat and mouth out with a scrub brush, a stiff bristled one at that. Then they had set said mouth on fire more than once. His stomach too.

The next thing he was aware of was that someone had beat him or perhaps used that curlicue spell on him that those dead eaters had used on Dudley once before. Dudley had complained of stiff and cramped muscles for days afterward. Yes, the way he felt it was the curlicue spell, not a beating.

It stunk here too, like vomit and urine and he was wet and cold and on the floor. Most likely in a dungeon or something similar. He hopped his wife was ok…wife…son…white monsters…His eyes snapped open to a blinding white glare and snapped shut just as fast. The light was so bright it actually hurt. Opening his eyes to the smallest slit possible he lay still and waited for the light to stop attacking his head which pounded and throbbed with each breath he took and each beat of his heart.

It took some time but finally he could open his eyes up enough to see. In front of his face was a – a toilet? Reaching out a shaky hand he half expected the toilet to be some sort of illusion but his hand encountered the chilled smooth sides of an ordinary eggshell off white porcelain toilet. Turning his head slightly he could see blue, off whit and grey tile under his body laid out in a mosaic style and stretching his sore neck just a bit he could see beyond the toilet was a vanity that he assumed held a sink. He was in a bathroom.

With the aid of a lot of groans, winces and under his breath cussing and the much needed physical support of the toilet he managed to get to his knees for a better look around his prison.

Ewe, this was bloody disgusting. His movement had stirred up the air in the small closed off room and the stench assaulted his nose stronger than before. Vomit coming from the unflushed toilet and urine coming from his own stiff trousers. The shaking hand reached out and flushed away the horrid content of the toilet before it explored the aforementioned trousers. Yep, Vernon had pissed himself.

Climbing to his feet with some effort he confronted the mirror and about fell back to the floor when a ghostly face of a young man appeared and said, "Right proper mess your are mate."

Not quite sure which shocked him more, his appearance, the face in the mirror or the totally mundane comment the mirror face had made Vernon opened his mouth and tried to speak. All that came out was something approaching "aghha" The man in the mirror scrunched his nose up and waved a ghostly hand across his face and with a look of disgust it said "Mate, that breath could knock a dragon out." before vanishing once again.

Vernon reached a shaky finger up to touch the reflection of his blood shot eyes. He recognized those eyes and at that moment he recognized what he was feeling. All the signs were there but till now he hadn't put em together. Vernon had gotten piss drunk and was now hung-over. Major hung over. Oh God, Petunia was gonna kill him.

Vernon's father had died an alcoholic so Vernon seldom drank, besides the bad example of his father he didn't much like the loosing control feelings he hot after getting drunk and he most definitely didn't like the after affects of being drunk. He had been told by others that he was a happy drunk, engaging in activities he normally wouldn't but Vernon wouldn't know. He was also one of those unfortunate persons that could not remember what he did when drunk.

So examining his memories he came up with very little. He remembered his family being ushered into the pub. Everyone acting like the second coming of Christ had happened. Plates of fish and chips set down in front of them, a shot glass being set in front of him and thinking one shot wouldn't hurt and just might settle his nerves a bit. I t had and hadn't so he remembered drinking the next shot but nothing after that. From the way he was feeling though he rather thought it might have been a wild ride.

Vernon bent down and turning on the tap he rinsed his mouth out before taking a big drink. According to his watch it was 10:00 so it wasn't as bad as it could have been. His family had gotten here about 1:00 or 2:00 p.m. so he had only been out of it for what; eight or nine hours? Vernon was guessing that Petunia had taken a couple of rooms at the pub for them then after bringing him here left him to pass out on the bathroom floor as a punishment for getting drunk.

That solved he removed his soiled clothes and climbed into the shower for a much needed cleaning. Once that chore was done he hand washed out his clothes and hung them over the towel rack to dry. Opening the door he stopped in shock. The bedroom before his eyes was flooded with the light of day through four windows. The empty bedroom. Oooo-k, soooo he was in a bit more trouble than he had originally estimated…

Glancing at his watch once again he noted that the shower, clothes washing and contemplation had taken almost an hour so that meant that his family had eaten breakfast and had left him laying on the floor all night or well, all the time from whenever he had been brought here anyhow. He briefly contemplated doing a preemptive strike when his wife came back and acting upset that she had left him to get stiff and sore from sleeping curled around a toilet in a pub rental room but decided that getting drunk when little monsters were ripping up their home gave her the moral high ground so if he even tried that tactic he might just end up sleeping in the garden shed when they regained their home for the next several months. Nope, better to stick with contrite and remorseful rather than try the misused and abused approach.

Vernon walked into the bedroom and not having much choice about going out he went to the bed and flopped down on it moaning in pain. He hadn't had this bad of a headache since the time he had gone a little bit mad several years ago and tried to hide his family from the freaks that were trying to put the boy in that special school. He was torn about hoping his wife returned soon and just wanting her to stay away for a few hours so that he could sleep. If she came back she could get him a cup of Earl Grey and some aspirin but he would have to deal with the rather shrill voice that she used when she was angry or upset. Either way it was a win/no win situation for him. He reached over and pulled the covers over his body and closed his eyes to sleep.

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Petunia and Dudley finished their breakfast and using Vernon's credit card once again she added a hefty tip to the bill just to spite her husband. The two got up and walked out to the rent car and climbing inside they once again started on their way. It was going to take them another three hours to reach London and Petunia planned on stopping to purchase Vernon a change of clothes along the way. Her thoughts on that were leaning toward a thong and some golf pants and a hot pink shirt but her final selections would depend a lot on how bad the traffic was in the city. It was a good thing that she didn't go shopping for her husband yesterday when she had shopped for her and Dudley because at the time she was leaning toward a full body Speedo in magenta with rubber sandals for his feet. An expensive new outfit, a good dinner and a good night sleep in a first class inn had done some work in dissipating her anger toward the man at least enough that the speedo was now out.

Before pulling out of the parking lot she asked, "Do you have your phone Duddkins?"

Dudley rolled his eyes and smirked. His mom had gone all out on his suggestion yesterday and got the two boys and herself a top of the line cell phone each and a common inexpensive one for her husband. Dudley was positive that the boy's had got the better phones as another slap at his father for getting drunk yesterday but hey, he wasn't going to complain as long as he benefited from it. Patting his hip where the phone was clipped to his belt he nodded and said, "Right here mom. We're good to go."

Glancing in the back seat she made sure that the box that contained the other two new phones was still there then she pulled out onto the roadway and they were off to collect her wayward husband and to find her nephew.

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All things taken into account Harry was pleased with the way things had gone yesterday. Of course he was not pleased about the fact that his ward was so unhappy but if he was lucky the rude awakening that Draco had suffered from would make him a little bit more tractable in the future. At the very least it might stop the boy from whining about spending money. Harry gave him what he thought was a very generous spending allowance but Draco always complained it was a mere pittance. Harry guessed it was compared to what he was use to but really, what did he need more money for anyway? He wasn't dating, he didn't need clothes, he had all of his school supplies and he had room and board so the money Harry gave his was just spent on sweets and the occasional butterbeer in Hogwarts.

This morning at breakfast the blonde teen had been very subdued as he ate. He hadn't even risen to being bated by one of his younger house mates. Usually when he thought someone was picking on him he got loud enough to attract the attention of the other students but today he just kept quiet and ate. Breakfast was almost over when the owls came in with the morning post. The owl his mother had been allowed to take from their estate before the aurors had confiscated the rest came to a landing beside his plate. Draco reached out and took the note attached to the bird's leg. With a grimace of distaste he opened the missive and began to read.

Draco, my treasure

I am hoping this note finds you well.

I am writing about annual Mid Summer ball and festival. I have sent a missive to Lord Potter explaining to him that he needs to set aside a few thousand galleons so that I may procure the proper apparel and accessories needed to attend as befits the Malfoy standard. Please take the time to speak to him about having your own wardrobe freshened as well. We do not wish to appear in garments that may have been seen by other eyes now do we?

Lord Potter will also need to arrange for the accommodations for our small party as we attend the festivities. Explain to him that the festival lasts for three days and four nights. Our accommodations should be for the entire week although I will understand if he wishes to only stay for four days and five nights.

Also please inform Lord Potter that the wards surrounding his estate are impeding the owl that is delivering our invitations. It has not arrived yet and you know that the event is RSVP only so this issue must be dealt with at once.

With all of Mummy's love.

Narcissa.

After having read the letter Draco suffered from the strong urge to bang his head on the table in front of him. Standing up he contemplated his next course of action. With a sigh and a shrug he walked over to Potter's table and dropping the note on his plate of scrambled eggs and fried potatoes he turned and left the hall all without saying a word to anyone.

Harry picked up the slightly crumpled note and began to read. With a moan of pain he did bang his head on the table a few times before his friends reached out to stop him. His body guards just looked on with amazement.

"Mate, what's wrong?" Ron asked around a mouth full of food. Harry handed the letter over to his best friend and Ron read it before snickering and handing it over to Hermione to read. She in turn passed it on to another till all six had read the letter.

"So," Luna said, "the Midsummer festival humm? Better be careful. I understand that Snarkles invaded the party last year and caused all sorts of trouble."

"They aren't going. I'm not going either. I told Mrs. Malfoy that but did she listen? No, of course not." Harry closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Ginny was ever so kindly rubbing his shoulders trying to work some of the tension out and that was something to be treasured anytime it happened.

"Gran and I go every year. We have since I was little. Of course I only started going to the ball two years ago." Neville explained. He shrugged. "The festival itself can be a lot of fun."

Sitting up straight again Harry reached behind himself and snagged Ginny's wrist and pulling her around to the front he sat her down on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his nose in her hair before asking, "What about the rest of you lot? Do you go every year too?"

Ron shook his head no. "It's a rich pureblood thing. I don't think the Weasleys have ever even received an invitation to the thing. I know that Hermione would never be invited. Her being muggle born and all. I'm surprised they invited the Malfoy's this year. You'd think that the disgrace the family name is under would have kept them off the guest list."

Harry snuggled Ginny's neck before he answered. "It did. It didn't keep me off the guest list though. I guess whoever puts this thing on each year is willing to overlook the fact that my mum was muggle born. I haven't sent them back my answer yet though I plan on telling them thanks but no thanks." His eyes narrowed as he looked his friends over. "Pedigree's required along with wealth? That's the kind of crap I fought Voldemort last summer trying to stop." Giving a decisive nod Harry made up his mind. "I'm accepting and you lot are all coming with me."

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She sat back in her lawn chair and watched the house across the street from her. Several of her neighbors had come over early this morning and they had a good gossip session about what was going on over there. Currently Cindy Nobles from number 3 Privet Drive was on the phone with her husband explaining the situation and Mary Charter from number six was in her house getting together a tea for the ladies. Wilma Travis stretched her arms above her head and was rewarded with the low pop as the joints in her shoulders relaxed. Right now all of the little white thingies were either back inside or in the back yard and thus out of view but my God, the things they had done this morning was incredible.

The house now sported two wide picture windows into the livingroom or at least what was once the livingroom. It was now an open area with white and gold trim. The fireplace had been taken out along the side wall and another wide picture window was on that wall. The stairs were now freestanding and sweeping with a gentle curve to them. The front lawn now sported two majestic oaks, one to each side of the walkway and the flower gardens were growing flowers and plants that no one had ever seen before. Little things, well, they had to be fairies flittered around like bees from plant to plant. Even the concrete walkway had been taken out and now a path made of what appeared to be quartz came from the driveway. Petunia Dursley's car had been taken out of the garage and hauled to the street. The automatic doors had been taken out of what was once a double car garage and the front was now open.

Wilma was not going back inside her home till they had finished. As far as she was concerned that family had always been strange. First the nephew and now look at what was going on…