Chapter 9: Drinking and Apparating.


The war was finally over. You-Know-Who was dead, and so too were his horcruxes.

Harry had done the impossible. No man had ever survived a killing curse, let alone three!

He'd done it as a baby, and that was truly remarkable. He'd done it as an adult, sacrificing himself for the greater good. Then, he'd done it again not long afterwords; something about wands and their masters...

Harry always won, and it was good being his best mate. Chicks dig the hero, and when they find the hero is already attached, they go for the side-kick.

It was good being Harry, but it was pretty damn good being Ron too.


Hermione, the prude, had said that she wanted to wait. Feh! Well I ain't gonna wait! Girls are literally hanging all over me, and she wants to wait?

Ron was having the time of his life. Just like the Dark Lord's last defeat, there were parties galore. Ron could have his fill of anything he wanted.

Food, drink, and of course, ladies.

He ate to his hearts content, he drank until well past tipsy, and he could walk up to any dame he wanted and they would say yes.

Oh yes, it was good being Ron Weasley.


For the sixth night in a row, Ron had gone to another party. He wasn't a complete moron (or maybe he was?), he knew that the euphoria (not that he used that word in his mind) over Voldemort's (also, not that word coward that he is) defeat wouldn't last forever, so he partied while he could.

He was well past the half way mark on his bottle of whiskey before a pretty little blond came his way.

A few minutes of discussion proved she was dumber than he was, and he was keen to take advantage.

In a few minutes they were snogging, with her straddling his waist, and he had a hand up her blouse. Simpleton he was, the only though going through his mind was 'Boobs!'

With tongues battling for better position, he was rather enthused when he felt a hand graze his tented pants.

Huskily she whispered in his ear, "Wanna go somewhere more... quiet?"

Not a minute later, Ron and his companion found themselves outside on a busy London street. Preparing to apparate, he suddenly remembered that he left his wand on the table.

"Hey, I forgot my wand, wanna meet me at the Leaky Cauldron?" He asked

"Sure, but don't make me wait," she replied, trailing off, "I might just start without you..."

He watched her leave, and when he heard the customary 'pop' he practically sprinted back into the apartment in search of his wand.

He found it next to his bottle of whiskey, and took one more swig for the road.


Finding himself back outside, Ron readied himself for the trip.

Now, Ron was never very good at apparition. He failed his first test, and splinched himself many times over the last year. Hermione had to heal him once with dittany over their little hunt.

Alcohol did not make him any better. No, in fact it made him a fair bit worse. That, and the fact that he was rather... distracted... at the moment he left was not a good thing.

It's strange that while he was thinking with his penis, it was the only thing he left behind.

A stray dog had a nice snack though...


Anyone with a lick of sense doesn't drink and apparate...

But then again, wizards are stupid.


AN: Ah, Ron, when will you ever learn...?