Author's Notes: Oh my, poor Harry! I hope you guys like how the story is going…yes it is SUPPOSED to be ridiculous!

Disclaimer: I do not own it! NO!

Meet Again

The next morning, Harry stumbled into the Burrow and plopped down at the kitchen table, exhausted. After taking Veritaserum, he finally convinced MLE that he was innocent, but they had still kept him at the office overnight. "Worst. Bloody. Night. Ever. God. Bloody. Damn-"

"Good morning, Harry dear!" Mrs. Weasley sang brightly as she set a bowl of oatmeal in front of him. She narrowed her eyes. "Why are you getting back in the morning? I hear you never made it to visit Martha, you better explain, young man!"

Harry groaned and buried his face in his arms. "It's a long story, Mrs. Weasley…I

really don't want to get into it."

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips sternly but pressed no further. "I'll go wake up the rest of the gang, eat your breakfast, dear." She bustled pass him.

Harry poked half-heartedly at his porridge. Hearing a tap at the window, he looked up to see a handsome eagle owl bearing a red envelope. "No way."

Harry stared down at the unmistakable Howler with his name written on it. He glanced at the stairs. Better get this over with while he was alone.

BANG! The Howler exploded open and a shrilly female voice bellowed down upon him, "HEY! WHO THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU?! AND WHY WERE YOU NAKED IN A MOTEL WITH ME?! I WAKE UP WITH A BLOODY HEADACHE AND I HEAR SOME BLOKE HAD ME IN A MOTEL?! MEET ME AT THREE BROOMSTICKS AT 1 PM SHARP AND I WANT ANSWERS! IF YOU SKIVE I'LL HUNT YOUR PRAT ARSE DOWN AND BLAST IT TO SMITHEREENS, HEAR?!

Harry gulped. How could she do this to me? I gave my cloak to clean her vomit, got yelled at, paid for a motel, and got arrested all because of her! He groaned. I thought it was finally over!

Harry trudged into Three Broomsticks and sat down at the bar. Meekly, he peered around for the witch. Madame Rosmerta smiled at him. "Can I get you anything, Harry?" She smiled cheekily.

"No…I'm waiting for someone, maybe later, Rosmerta," he replied. He surveyed the room and stopped at the door as it opened. He took a deep breath as the witch from the previous night strode in and looked around the pub. Harry approached her hesitantly. "Er…begging your pardon…" he greeted her quietly.

Her head snapped in his direction and her calculating brown eyes looked him up and down. "So it's you, huh?"

He nodded, and found that, despite the situation, her voice sounded like a silver bell to his ears…though a few degrees harsher. Okay, maybe her tone made it more like a jagged saw. "Harry Potter." He offered his hand for her to shake.

She raised an eyebrow and turned sharply about, calling over her shoulder, "Follow me."

Stupefied by her rudeness, Harry trudged after her to a table. When Rosmerta approached, the witch indicated to him that he should order. "What do you want?" She looked at him with her clear brown eyes.

Harry rubbed his chin and glanced up at the menu. "Hmm…should I have a Butterbeer Rum? Or maybe a Brewed Jubilee Surprise? Too unpredictable..." Harry wiped his glasses on his sleeve and winked at Rosmerta. "Actually, Ros, I think I will have a mulled mead." He sat back merrily in his seat.

The Asian witch opposite him, however, gave her a blank stare. "Yah, are you daft? Do you wanna die? Drink coffee." Her expression changed suddenly as she shifted her gaze. Eyes twinkling, she smiled sweetly at Madame Rosmerta. "Two coffees, if you please."

Rosmerta beamed down at the young witch. "Right away, dearie."

Harry was flabbergasted. "Why did you ask me what I wanted, then?!"

She glared at him, and pulled out her wand. Before he could react, she had the tip to his throat, and snarled fiercely, "Now tell me what the bloody hell happened last night."

Harry sputtered, "Well…I saw you outside this place last night…and the Knight Bus was coming…and you were flat drunk…" The entire time he stuttered like some sort of idiot, the witch's intent gaze never wavered. "I saved your bloody life!"

"Don't curse," she snapped. "So I was drunk, eh?"

Harry nodded earnestly.

"I called you 'Honey,' eh?"

Harry nodded again.

The witch pondered this thoughtfully. "I kind of remember that," she muttered, looking amused. "So you took me to the motel, and showered to wash off vomit and sweat…and then MLE showed up?"

"Yes."

"You're a bloody idiot."

Harry started. With a girl like this…you gotta show her who is boss. "Hey, you better watch it," he retorted lamely. "I had to spend the bloody night at the Ministry because of you!"

The witch ignored him and flipped her hair over her shoulder, rolling her eyes. Harry's breath caught in his throat as his emerald eyes took in the sight of her. As she spaced out, gazing out the windows of the pub at nothing, he let out an appreciative sigh. Her straight black hair was shiny and soft, and perfectly framed her oval face. Her eyes had a liquid appearance; with immeasurable depth that repelled anyone who might try to discover what lay beneath. Her skin was pale, except for the rosy tint in her cheeks, and her small pouty mouth was strangely alluring. When she is sober…she is exactly my type of witch. He cleared his throat nervously. "You look much better and livelier today," he offered, cupping the steaming mug of coffee that Rosmerta placed in front of him. He grinned hopefully.

Contrary to his intentions, the witch did not look flattered. She stared him down as if he were a puppy who was trying to cute his way out of trouble. "Are you mocking me?" She asked harshly.

Taken aback, Harry quickly protested, "No! I mean-"

"Are you hitting on me, then?" The witch smirked.

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "No-"

"Good," she cut him off bluntly. "You and I are never meant to be together. There's no chance."

Not knowing how to respond, Harry reached for the cream and sugar. The witch smacked his hand away and snapped, "Wanna die? Drink it black."

Harry narrowed his eyes. Who the hell did she think she was?! His thoughts were interrupted however, when he looked around and realized that sometime whilst they were talking, the pub had emptied out. Where did everyone go? Did we really talk that long?!

The witch suddenly stood up and hoisted her bag over her shoulder. "Let's go," she walked off, calling over her shoulder, "you pay, and throw away the trash."

He watched her saunter off in disbelief. "Wait, you didn't even tell me your bloody name!"