Disclaimer: Harry Potter doesn't/never will/never did belong to me.
Thanks to all reviewers!
Unwanted or Improper - Chapter 3
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Drunk: Intoxicated with alcoholic liquor to the point of impairment of physical and mental faculties. Caused or influenced by intoxication. Overcome by strong feeling or emotion: drunk with power.
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Harry now had the difficult task of telling Ron and Hermione. There was no way he couldn't, not with him moving all his stuff out of the dorms today. No avoiding it. Dammit! His mind shouted and raged at the complete ridiculousness of the whole situation. This was surely an evil fate dreamt up for him by Voldemort himself. It would only be proper that the boy-who-lived suffered before he became the boy-who-died. Yes, he must have created the bloody bond! Oh, but Snape was a Death Eater. Well, as far as Voldemort knew anyway. But that was only more of a reason to put them together! An inside man!
He thought it over, then shoved the far-fetched idea away and almost hit himself with the stupidity he was displaying. He'd just have to adapt. As Dumbledore had said, there was no way out of it. Besides dying. Harry sighed, at least that was always an option, should things become... too much. An option. He could ensure that was always possible, a few spare potions, a sharp knife handy, anything like that. It was always good to have a plan B. He disregard the option as he did with his conspiracy theor, this did give him a little bit of control.
Now he just had to figure out how to tell his friends. Should he tell them soon? Now? Never? Now, he supposed. After all, putting it off would only make it more nerve wracking. Bloody hell! This was supposed to be easy! They were his friends after all.
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He saw Hermione's eyes close before they opened again, sad and confused. Then two words escaped her mouth that broke Harry's heart. "That's unnatural." She whispered.
Two simple words. Harry's blurred vision darted to Ron, expecting a fist to come flying his way. Instead a grin spread across his face. "You and the greasy git of a potions master? Now that's a picture to laugh at. I feel for you, mate, I really do."
Ron didn't even pay any attention to Hermione's little whisper. This was the complete opposite to what he expected. What the hell happened?
Hermione turned and ran up the stairs to her dorm, passing several concerned girls on the way, including Ginny.
Ron caught Harry's sorrowful gaze up the stairs. "Don't worry, she's going out with Draco, he's actually pretty open minded, he'll talk to her."
"Draco?" He whispered.
"Oh! You weren't there!"
Harry's eye flew up sardonically, despite the mood he was currently in. "No, Ron, I don't believe I was."
"You'd better not spend too much time around Snape, Harry, you're beginning to sound like him.
Harry dropped the eyebrow quickly, an expression of disgust immediately shadowed his face.
"What did I miss about Malfoy?"
"He doesn't want to be a Death Eater!" Ron crowed.
"What?"
"His father was pissed because he didn't want to be a Death Eater, and he scared him pretty bad before he caved in, Draco is his only heir after all, I still want to know what made him cave though. So Draco stayed with us over the holidays, along with Hermione."
"Why'd he stay with you, of all people?"
"His father thought it was for the best that Draco not be around, Narcissa is related to dad through his second cousin or something, so she suggested us."
"You're on a first name basis?"
"He slept in my room! How could we not when I saw him everyday for the last eight weeks?"
"I suppose. But don't the Malfoy's hate your family?" He asked, totally confused, he always missed out on this sort of stuff.
"His father hates our family, yes, but his wife has him wrapped around her little finger, it's kind of sad actually."
"Why didn't you owl me?" Harry felt quite left out.
"We couldn't, I'm sorry mate, no one was supposed to know where he was during the holidays, it was better that everyone assumed he was just at home."
"Yeah, everyone." Harry sighed. "This is a disaster. Hermione hates me because of this stupid bond thing. I hate Snape. Now I have to spend the rest of my life with him! I'm only sixteen, Ron."
Ron's face dropped, his eyes showing sympathy and the slightest bit of mirth.
Harry glimpsed the amusement. "Well, I'm glad you find my situation funny, Ron!"
Ron was quick to apologize. "Sorry, Harry, it's just.. that... you two would just be so well suited! You would bicker like a married couple."
"Suited! What are you talking about suited for? And MARRIED? What the hell are you thinking?"
"Calm down, Harry, I'm not patronizing you, think about it. If the bond is there, you certainly can't continue hating each other, you're going to have to do something about it."
Harry was quiet. "When did you become so wise Ron?"
"I didn't. You just started listening."
"Yeah. Thanks."
"What are friends for?"
"To go with to Hogsmeade to get a butterbeer?" Harry grinned at Ron.
The other boy grinned back. "Yes, that would be right. Oh, and Harry? Don't worry about Hermione, Draco will talk to her, I'm sure of it."
"Thanks, mate."
"No problem."
They headed off to the small village to talk over a butterbeer.
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Snape was well into his second bottle of firewhiskey that morning. A nice record if he did say so himself. No classes, a whole day to go, free as a bird, and a good ten bottles left in his stores. Maybe he could drink himself to death, a nice, hazy death. A rap on his door interrupted his drunken thoughts of pleasant suicides.
"Yes?" He called, his speech slightly slurred.
"It's Minerva, may I come in?"
McGonagall? Why was she visiting? A drinking partner perhaps. Misery loves company. Ah, what a lie, misery loves slowly drinking itself into oblivion. A nice, hazy oblivion. He had to stop thinking these treacherous thoughts.
"G'ahead, Minnie, c'mon in! Join the party!"
Minerva McGonagall walked in, her eyes slightly laughing, partly disapproving at the smell of the room. "I see you've found your way to the firewhiskey, Severus."
"Y'know ya love it, Minnie." The Potions Master grinned at her, raising an inviting eyebrow. Minerva shook her head.
"You're drunk, Severus. I might have to do a sobering up charm soon."
"No, no, no!" She couldn't do that, it would stop the wonderful dizzy feeling he was having right now.
"You won't be fit to teach on Monday with a hangover."
"I'll make a potion ta'morrow." He sounded as if he were desperately trying to sound sober but he was failing miserably. And the man looked miserable. Very pale, pallid, his eyes were gaunt.
"You won't be able to make the potion in your condition." She didn't allow room for the indignant answer that was sure to follow. "Albus told me of your... predicament, with Mr Potter."
"Ah, yes, my pre-predicament with young Mr Potter. Very young. Very, very young-"
McGonagall cut him off. "He is sixteen, Severus."
"Very, very, very young."
"Merlin, Severus, you are a terrible drunk!"
"I'm not drunk!" Snape slurred. Considering his speech pretty much gave him away, the protest was useless.
"I think you need to sleep it off. Mr Potter will be here soon, can't have you this drunk when he gets here, can't have you with a hangover either, I can't imagine the carnage resulting from that incident. I'm afraid, Severus, that I'll have to put you to sleep magically."
"No! I like it better awake!"
Minerva muttered a sleeping charm before uttering the words that were going to make Snape very unhappy. "Purgare Venenare#."
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# I'm very creative. Purgare Venenare is Latin. Purgare: Purge. Venenare: Poison. After all, alcohol is poison. I think. In a way. Just play along.
Please review. No flames though. Nasty, horrible things. Is this shorter or longer than usual? What else do you want to know? Is there anything I've glossed over badly? Do you like it? Do you love me? *blushes*. Anything like that would be appreciated.