Ellooooo! Turns out that I can still write fanfiction even when my friend's here, mainly because she brought her laptop too so we can just write at the same time. Yes I admit we are sad. But that is life.

Have a good... um... readey-type thingy.

Ta-da!

He was halfway back down the quiet London street, not really knowing where he should go now, when he heard footsteps behind him.

"Ron! Wait up, mate!"

After a short while he had caught up, his messy black fringe flopping over his eyes. Ron smiled.

"Cho kicked you out too, did she?" he asked, laughing. Harry shook his head.

"Nah, I just thought we could hit the pub," he replied. "Cho's working on her column anyway. Don't worry, Seamus will be there, so it won't be boring." He grinned at his friend. "And then you can moan about Hermione all you want."

The pub was a small building a few streets away from Harry's flat.

As they went in, Harry muttered, "It's a wizarding pub. When Muggles look at it they see a shop that's been shut down." Ron nodded. Then suddenly he spotted the familiar balding, bulky figure of Seamus Finnegan sitting on a barstool, his substantial bottom spilling over the sides. When he noticed the two men standing in the doorway, he waved a pudgy hand.

"Harry! Ron! Come on over here!"

The two friends joined Seamus at the bar, sitting on the dark wood barstools. Harry called to the bartender, "Two pints of bitter!" Seamus burped softly before jumping in with, "And a fire whiskey for me!" Their drinks arrived, the bartender looking doubtfully at Seamus, who was decidedly red-faced already. Harry and Ron downed theirs in seconds.

Swallowing the last drop and slamming his glass down on the bar, Harry turned to his friend.

"So... what's the deal with Hermione?" he asked. "I thought you guys had sorted yourselves out."

There was a pause. Ron answered carefully. "Well... there was a... bump in the road. She's, er... yeah."

Another pause. Harry looked at him. "Because I know exactly what that means. Ron" – he leaned across the bar, signalling for two more drinks – "I have no idea what you're bloody talking about." He slurped at his drink, passing the other one to Ron. "Drink up. You'll need it."

Ron was just letting the last drop trickle into his mouth when he felt someone slide onto the barstool beside him. He turned to see a blonde man of around his own age, his hand closed around a glass of fire whiskey, his expression exhausted. Cormac McLaggen? Ron's forehead wrinkled, his expression a mixture of confusion and amusement. He looked at the arrogant man in front of him – he didn't look so arrogant now. Ron could see that he was looking slightly more humble, more broken than he had ten years ago.

"McLaggen?" he asked, swivelling his head to look at him. The anger that had coursed through his had been slowly ebbing away, but now that this man's face had entered his line of vision, it started to trickle back, drop by drop, as it always did when he came face to face with someone like McLaggen. Cormac looked at him. Ron saw recognition register in his eyes.

"Weasley." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. His voice was tired. Ron could see that his eyes were tired, too.

As he watched, Cormac signalled to the bartender. "A shot of Goblin's Brew over here, mate," he called to him. The bartender nodded. Goblin's Brew was a mixture of the strongest drinks, both in the Muggle and the Wizarding World. Needless to say, fire whiskey was a key part of the drink. Ron hadn't had one for years – the last time he had, it was when Hermione had broken up with him. He leaned over to the tired-looking man beside him. But before he even had a chance to say anything, Cormac spoke.

"Not now, Weasley. I'm really, really not in the mood." He put his chin in his hand, heaving a huge sigh. His drink arrived in front of him. Ron could swear it was smoking.

Even so, Cormac grabbed the shot glass and downed it, shuddering as it slipped down his throat. He slammed the glass down on the bar.

"What's, er... what's the matter?" Ron asked, slightly hesitantly. Cormac didn't look to be in the best condition for a verbal thrashing tonight. In fact, he looked more like he needed a cuddle and a bedtime story. He turned to Ron.

"Weasley, I don't think that right now is the time for you and me to become best mates. So why should I tell you?"

A pause. Ron said, "Look. You'll be too hungover to remember this conversation tomorrow. It's all a case of 'You show me yours, I'll show you mine'. You tell me about your shit life, and then you have to listen to me going on about mine." He gestured to the bartender. "Another two Goblin's Brews over here, mate." He glanced over at Harry, who was talking to Seamus. "In fact... make that three."

*Two Hours Later*

"'Arry?"

"Yess Ron?"

"You're my besst frind. My besst frind."

Ron put his arm around Harry, just as slow music started to pour out of some invisible speaker or something. They both looked ecstatic and began swaying in time, their arms still around each other's shoulders. Cormac started dancing. On the table.

"Woo!" he yelled. "F-fuck you, Romiilda! I'm a ffree maaan now! Ssso there!" He promptly fell off the table, landing in a puddle of spilt liquor.

Harry and Ron looked at eachother. There was a moment's pause. Then they both burst into maniacal laughter, holding onto eachother to keep from falling as Cormac had.

The bar was empty except for a few old men nursing Butterbeers. The lights had been dimmed, the music was slower and softer, and all of the drunken young men had stumbled back down the streets to their houses or to Apparate away. Except, of course, Ron, Harry, Seamus and Cormac. Seamus was passed out on the floor, and Cormac was on the floor as well, although whether he was passed or not, Harry and Ron were too drunk to tell. They were wrapped up in their own affairs.

"I loove you, m-mate," Harry was slurring. "You're alwayss th-there, you g-gingerr git."

Ron seemed to be crying as he said, "I-I love you toooo, 'Arry. Isss amazin' 'ow much I l-looove you."

What happened next would be regretted by both men the next morning.

Cormac woke from a temporary drunken stupor to see his two old school friends making out on a table.

"Y-you guyss?"

No response.

Only the music pouring out from its mystery source. And the occasional, "I looove you," from Harry or Ron.

Cormac let out a giggle. He just had time to see the flash of a camera and hear the clamour of several voices entering the pub before he passed out once more.

A/N: Um. Yeah.

Well, what else could I do? It was my friend's idea actually to have Ron and Harry make out. Because it's funny. If you think about it, it is. Deal with it.

My friend, by the way, is user alicerosemalfoy on this site. I know I've already told you that but still. So, if you haven't already, go check her out because her writing is awesome.

Aaaand that's it.

Hopefully, I'll get Chapter 17 up soon.

Happy reading!