Author's Notes: GROSSLY FUNNY SCENE AHEAD!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor My Sassy Girl!
Ogden's + Witch the Luck of Harry Potter
Harry groaned inwardly to himself, longing for that jug of mead he had left behind in Three Broomsticks. What time was it? "Just need to drop in for a quick visit, then I'm hightailing it out of there…" he assured himself. He checked his watch and sighed. He never understood why transit took so bloody long on the Knight Bus; didn't this blasted thing run on magic?! He tapped his foot impatiently, bored out of his mind. He blew out a jet of air from his lips, ruffling his hair, and found his eyes scanning the bus for the wasted witch. He spotted her immediately, still in the same position as before, arms wrapped around the pole, towering over the old man's cot. Harry smirked to himself, noticing that her eyes were crossed and confused. She seemed to fall asleep on her feet, and began falling forwards. Harry could not help laughing when her head bumped the pole and she let out a pitiful yowl of surprise. She squinted one eye in confusion and frustration before dozing off again.
Chuckling to himself, Harry leaned back in his cot and observed the witch. She sighed sleepily and wrapped her cloak tightly around her shoulders. Her straight black hair fell in tangled wisps in her face, and her smooth round cheeks were a flushed pink from her alcohol consumption. She pursed her lips and groaned softly in discomfort, squeezing her eyes shut tighter. Harry raised his eyebrows. "No way," he thought to himself. The witch hugged her stomach and pressed her forehead against the pole. Harry found himself gagging along with her as her chest heaved and she clamped her mouth shut. Her pursed lips emitted a whiny moan as she leaned her weight on the pole. "Way," Harry confirmed. The girl gagged again…and again, a look of intense concentration and disgust marring her pretty face. "Here it comes," Harry thought, wrinkling his nose and bracing himself for an even grosser display of public intoxication. The girl let go of the pole and clamped a hand over her mouth as her stomach heaved again. Harry clamped his eyes shut, horrified, to save himself from witnessing the disgusting sight to come. He waited…and waited. "What the blazes is taking so long?" He hesitantly opened his eyes and saw the witch gripping the pole with one hand, the other pressed hard over her mouth. Harry could not even laugh, only stared transfixed as time seemed to slow down while she gagged. And gagged. And gagged some more. This time it had to be it. Her expression was fierce as her cheeks puffed out from the vomit in her mouth. Then, to Harry's surprise and utter disgust, her face tensed… and then relaxed as she swallowed. "Bloody hell!" Harry felt his own stomach heave in repulsion as he gagged. "She just downed her own puke!" Harry made an exaggeratedly repulsed face as he stuck out his tongue and gagged. He was flabbergasted at the witch's happy expression; she looked almost pleased that she had swallowed her own chunks! She smacked her lips noisily and ran her tongue over her small white teeth. With a deep sigh of contentment, her body relaxed against the pole as she tucked a dark lock of hair behind her ear.
Harry shook his head and mussed his own black hair with one hand. "What a night," he grumbled. He glanced over to the front of the bus where Stan was chatting animatedly with Ernie, who continued to careen the vehicle violently through the air. He blinked sleepily but was suddenly yanked from his stupor by a sudden commotion. His head shot up and turned immediately in the direction of the drunk witch, who, shockingly, was spewing vomit onto the old wizard's head! Harry squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again to confirm that the display was indeed happening. The girl was half asleep, leaning against her pole over the old wizard's bed, oblivious to her own appalling actions. The other passengers gasped and cried out in shock; Harry couldn't believe it; if the situation had not been so disgusting, it might even have been funny. The old wizard, meanwhile was squeezing his eyes shut and crying out pitifully. With shaking hands, he tugged on his vomit-drenched hair and lifted his toupee from his now shiny bald head. But it was not over yet. The witch's stomach heaved again and another flood of vomit descended on the poor wizard, splashing off his scalp and dripping down his face. Everyone grimaced at the sight of the noodles she had had for dinner in little slimy pieces sliding down the unfortunate man's face. Harry shuddered in disgust and backed away from the spectacle. It seemed that the girl had now emptied herself completely. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve and burped. Turning towards Harry, her eyes glazed over, and, falling forward, she reached one arm towards him. "Honey…" she slurred, before hitting the floor with a thud, out cold.
Harry scratched his head and laughed a little, before he realized that everyone was staring at him disapprovingly. His green eyes widened innocently. "No," he said, chuckling slightly. "I don't know her- no! She's NOT my girlfriend!"
The bystanders were hissing amongst themselves, "She called him honey!" "Young people today," one middle aged women tutted to her husband.
Harry was flabbergasted. "I'm not her boyfriend! I've never seen her before," he insisted. He wrapped the covers around himself defensively.
"YOU!" The old wizard bellowed, screwing his face up in anger.
Harry shook his head and backed away. The old wizard straightened up and commanded, "Get over here, lad! Take responsibility! Why did you not take care of your girlfriend properly?!"
Stunned, Harry slid off his cot and scurried over to the wizard. Awkwardly, he removed his own cloak and wiped the wizard's face with it. He bowed his head in apology as he took the toupee and shook it out, and carefully replaced it dumbly onto the old man's head. At this, the old wizard yelled out in exasperation and disgust, and cuffed Harry upside the head hard. "Are you bloody daft?!" he thundered. Harry didn't know what to do…honestly now, when was the last time he had to act responsibly? This had to be the worst night of his life…well after Voldemort of course.
"Sorry, sir…" he muttered.
The old man gave an exasperated grunt and shooed away Harry's hand. "Forget it, lad, just take care of your girlfriend! See to it this doesn't ever happen again or I'll show you how I put my cane to use!"
Harry nodded mutely, then looked down at the passed out witch sprawled on the floor. This was just not his night.