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“Ok, but why am I coming along?” Harry complained in a loud whisper for the fifth time this evening. Fred and George had dragged him out of bed for some sort of errand at some god awful hour in the morning. Well, he wasn’t actually dragged out of bed. The thing the twins were doing apparently required the use of his cloak and he wasn’t just going to let the pranksters take it.
So here he was. At least the twins weren’t openly complaining about his presence.
“We told you, Harry, we just need to run a delivery.” Fred said, or was it George? It was hard to tell in the gloom of Hogwarts. Anyway, he said it in the innocent sort of tone that promised anything but innocence.
“And your cloak is a huge help in this. Thinking about it, you coming along will help a ton too.” Added the other twin, finishing and adding to his brother’s line of thought.
It was like watching a game of table tennis with these two sometimes, and right now Harry was far too tired to actually follow along in the usual manner. Sometimes it was just easier to think of the twins as some sort of weird hive-mind and leave it at that without trying to focus on one or the other. It didn’t help that he was also lugging along a heavy wooden crate that sounded like it was full of glass bottles. He could hazard a guess at what was in said bottles, but didn’t think it was safe to try and voice any of those ideas. The young wizard may be one of the many people funding the twin pranksters, but sometimes he doubted that made him above being a test subject if he wasn’t careful.
Besides, he had more things to worry himself with other than the crate full of prank potions. Like why they were heading towards the dungeons with them.
Don’t get him wrong, he was all for pranking the house of green and silver snakes, or even Snape. (or especially Snape) He just didn’t want to be the one doing it at one o’clock in the morning! At least the paintings were asleep, not that they’d really notice them anyway under the cloak of invisibility but still, some of them may question the disembodied rattling bottles.
As much of a blessing the silent paintings were, the halls of Hogwarts at this time of night were eerily quiet. With the most noisy parts of the population, both the students and the paintings, fast asleep there was no one to really make a sound. While the resident Ghosts didn’t need sleep, and the Poltergeist, Peeves, certainly never rested, they definitely didn’t make much noise on their own. The former as they didn’t really have much to talk about loudly after a few centuries of after-life (Except that one ghost who was being chased down by their Ex. Even in death the poor guy couldn’t escape.) and the latter because he had no one to prank. This was not to mistake the idea that Peeves wasn’t doing anything, he was just doing so without invoking the ire of the entire school upon him. He was likely planning pranks or was busy setting some up for the next day in relative silence wherever he hides.
The result of all this was a castle devoid of noise so totally a pin drop could be like a roaring dragon. Luckily they had no dragons on their person. Only the light tap-tap-tap of the trio’s footsteps and the odd soft rattle of mysterious glass bottles filled the void. Although, that was more by design than luck as both their shoes and the crate which Harry was carrying had been charmed by the elder Twins spellwork to be quieter than normal.
It helped to know two highly skilled Wizards who had honed their craft over years of breaking the rules.
Morgana herself would tremble in fear if the Twins ever went evil, you’d never see it coming.
They had been walking for a while, the twin on the left checking the Marauders map every now and then to confirm where they were before turning down this corridor or that secret passage. Even with all the shortcuts they might have been taking, his arms were growing just as tired as he was. If Harry had to carry this crate any longer he was going to throw it at one of them, damn the retaliation he’d be invoking, and go back to bed. He was tired and even with the feather-light charm on the crate, the box was heavy. Thankfully his quiet complaints were soon to end as they rounded another corner and descended another set of stairs before entering a familiar space Harry didn’t think he’d really see again.
The trio of young Wizards entered an open space in the upper levels of the dungeon that acted like a sort of t-junction. The walls were plain, with no paintings or tapestries to speak of, and the space was mainly taken up by four evenly spaced strong stone pillars that helped hold up the castle above. Two braziers against each of the four walls, also evenly spaced, and a simple chandelier in the middle of the ceiling helped to illuminate the space with little effort, drawing one’s attention to the floor which housed an intricate serpentine mosaic that snaked its way around the pillars, overlapping in places creating a what looked like several connecting figures-of-eight which was occasionally glistened in the low flickering light.
Before his short jaunt down here in his second year under Polyjuice potion, the young Griffindor would have thought this was just a simple junction connecting this side of the dungeons to elsewhere. Not now though, for now he knew he was standing in the entrance to the den of snakes.
The Slytherin common room.
Well, that at least answers the question of where they were going.
The trio stopped in the centre of the room in unison under the cloak. This end of the castle never seemed all that warm. He knew from experience the common room wasn’t all that bad, but out here it was like the area was made with the express purpose to be foreboding. The darkness of night didn’t help at all. Considering the area was called ‘The Dungeons’, it made sense that the stone work would be enchanted to just ooze a feeling of doom and gloom. You don’t really want your prisoners to be chipper now do you? But that just makes you question why someone would put a common room down here?
Harry didn’t have long to ponder that thought before Fred and George turned in unison to face him. Given the atmosphere of where they were, that action was far creepier than normal. And it was creepy on a normal day anyway.
“What?” he stage-whispered, glancing between the two taller red-heads.
“Time for you to do your thing, Harry.” George said with a grin that just added to the growing creepy look in the low light.
“That’s right Harrikins, time for you to let us in.” Fred added with practised ease.
“I don’t have the password, why do you assume I can get in?”
“Because we’ve seen how it opens, you just have to speak to the snake.” they said in unison as though it was obvious. It was getting worse each time they did that down here, Harry just wanted to give them their stupid crate and go back to their common room with its warm reds and golds instead of spending anymore time in the dank of the dungeons. But if he could open the door that’d be a cool trick to learn. Besides, he wouldn’t really lose anything by trying.
With a put upon sigh, Harry took a half step forwards and pictured a snake in his mind.
$Open$ he hissed. The sound unnatural coming from a human tongue, a perfect mimicry of a snake’s vocalisation. Or so he was told, it sounded like normal English to him. With barely a sound of scraping stone, a large stone snake slithered out from the floor up the wall in a door-like arch before returning to the floor from whence it came, leaving in its wake a solid set of dark wooden doors.
‘Well, what do you know? It did work.’ he thought with a sense of wonder. Harry didn’t actually think that would work, but it made sense considering the founder of the house’s namesake would probably need an easy way to access his own students' dorms. He did not, however, have long to ruminate on his thoughts as he was shook from them almost as fast as the door had appeared by a meek ‘eep’ that seemed to come from the other side of the door.
Slowly, the door creaked open. The crack between the two wooden panels quietly flooded the gloomy junction hall with the golden light of the common room interior. Before the doors could open further, a figure stuck their head out through the open doors, the light behind them casting their head in a golden halo of light. Ringlets of chestnut brown hair shone brightly as if made of gold in the golden light, framing soft features that were examining the room. Though it was hard to see their face with the light coming from behind them, Harry could have sworn they looked familiar.
“Hello?” a distinctly feminine voice called out, confused. “Oh,” they continued as though remembering something important. “What tastes like Firewhiskey?” the newcomer said as though reading from a piece of parchment. Wait, was that meant to be a password or something?
As though answering his thoughts, the Weasley twins grabbed hold of the hem of the invisibility cloak before pulling it off proclaiming “A good time, that’s what!” in as loud a whisper as they dared.
The stranger froze their examination of the hall in what might have been shock a moment before they began to bounce on the balls of their feet. Almost vibrating with excitement, the action made him begin to seriously question what on earth he had been carrying to get that sort of reaction out of a Slytherin. And, better yet, why were they delivering it to a Slytherin?
“We’ve brought the goods, as requested.” Fred Weasley stepped forth gesturing back to the crate Harry was carrying with a comical bow. For a moment he could have sworn the girl was paying more attention to him than the box but it was hard to tell in the light. Especially while the individual was still bouncing like a Primary school kid.
“Do you have the payment?” George said in a business tone the Seeker didn’t think he’d ever heard come from the pair of older wizards. With the question, the Slytherin ducked back into the common roon a moment to fish something out. Something about this whole exchange made Harry think this wasn’t the first time this sort of exchange had happened. When they returned they were carrying a small leather bag which made a low jingling sound as it moved. Stepping out from the safety of the common room, the Slytherin stepped towards Geroge, the closest of the two twins, offering the bag. George was in the middle of examining the contents of the bag when Harry’s late night exhaustion got the better of him.
“What do you want me to do with this box?” Harry spoke up for the first time, shaking the other three out of their little routine bubble.
The girl, who’s features were a little more clear now they weren’t flat against the bright light leaking through the common room’s doors, took a step closer to Harry, drawing her wand in the process. Years of conditioning triggered the pavlovian response in Harry to take a step back. This caused the girl to pause.
“Sorry,” she said in a genuinely apologetic voice, “ I’ll just take that off your hands.” and with a quiet incantation and a swish and flick of her wand, the crate’s weight was lifted from his hands. “Thanks for this, Harry, you have no idea how much fun we’re gonna have with this!” They said with a level of gratitude and excitement that knocked the Gryffindor of kilter a little. Never before had a Slytherin been personal with him, and he didn’t even know her name. Of course, he didn’t know if he should be scared or not by this, but as the girl turned to move away he caught a glimpse of brilliant sapphire blue eyes and a dazzling smile and, for a moment at least, didn’t think he cared.
“Pleasure doing business, as always, Miss.” One of the twins said, before both of them turned and began to herd Harry back the way they came, while one of them put his Invisibility cloak back around them all as they went.
Once more, the halls were silent save for the tap-tap-tap of footsteps no one could see the source of. But under the cloak, Harry’s tired mind was still trying to figure out this night. But instead of worrying about the box of mysterious bottles, he was instead trying to place where he’d seen those beautiful blue eyes before.
====
The next morning, Harry dropped into his customary seat at the Gryffindor table for breakfast more on auto-pilot than actual intent. The bench was far less comfortable than normal and the spread of breakfast far less inviting. Something about being tired just didn’t make the normally mouth watering spread of fried foods and warm breads as appealing as it should be. His joints ached for the warm embrace of his bedsheets and his face was a mask of blatant exhaustion.
In a word, Harry Potter looked ‘dishevelled’.
While having a head of messy raven black hair wasn’t anything new for any Potter, today Harry’s hair would put all past Potters to shame in its disregard of physics. His skin was pale, almost waxy as though ill and his eyes, normally a vibrant green like that of pine trees in the summer, looked more like drying moss. Sunken and sad while trying to hide in the dark bags that had taken residence under slightly skewed glasses. Today, it was safe to say Harry looked far more like James Potter than he ever had before.
Well, like James Potter after he’d spent a night on the town and drank far too much Firewhiskey anyways.
When Harry had returned from his little jaunt down to the Slytherin common room last night, sleep had eluded him. Despite how tired he had been, his escapade with the red-devils of Gryffindor tower had left his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and questions. Between the crate of bottles he helped smuggle into the house of snakes and the girl they had delivered said crate too, the realm of Morphius had forbidden him entry. Honestly, thank Merlin it was Sunday. No classes meant he could go to bed after whatever Misters Weasley four and five wanted him to see. Harry didn’t think he could make it through any sort of class today. Even something on the easier side like Charms or Divination, yet alone something dangerously complicated like Potions or Transfiguration.
And so here he sat in the Great Hall. With no appetite and halfway back to dreamland wondering why on earth he was down here.
Oh, yeah, that’s right. The aforementioned Fred and George Weasley dragged him down here to see what they’d done. Whatever it was, he’d yet to see it and was seriously contemplating slapping both boys senseless before going back to bed. He was halfway in the process of eating some bacon when one of the twins subtly nudged his leg to get his attention. It took a few attempts on their part, Harry’s brain wasn’t quite with them today and needed a jumpstart. An exhausted Wizard glanced up at his would-be assailant and interrupter of breakfast to see the twin in question nod in the direction of the Slytherin table. This too, took a minute to process but after a moment it clicked. Even in his sleep deprived state he understood what the red-headed menace wanted and did as prompted.
Potter surveyed the Slytherin table carefully. Careful mostly because any jarring movements had his head go all dizzy, but also so he didn’t miss any details. The table looked fine, at first glance at least. But at second and third glance something was wrong.
It was a subtle change, mainly focused on maybe four or five students in his year. But it was clear when he actually looked, even to his sleep-addled eyes.They seemed… Happy. Visually happy too, none of that ‘neutral mask’ stuff. It was strange and Alien to see a smile from a Slytherin that wasn’t mocking or snide, but here it was. (The young Wizard chose to ignore the radiant smile he saw last night from a certain individual, he still wasn’t sure he hadn’t dreamed the whole thing.) Harry was still examining the strange collection of body-snatchers that had replaced the Slytherin table when something even stranger happened.
The students in question all took a shot. He blinked once, not sure he’d seen it happen.
“What just happened?” he whispered to George, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. The older student just grinned. That was an omen of things to come. When a Weasley twin grinned like that, a wide smile of too white teeth with a glint of mischief in their eye, it was a promise of impending doom at the hands of men not even the gods could contain. Staring up into that wide smile of mischief and mayhem, Harry suppressed a shudder before looking back towards the table on the other side of the hall.
It looked normal again, if normal was a weak veneer of calm. For he knew what to look for now. With his new found sight the table was anything but the calm normalcy he had grown to expect. It was a powder keg, and someone was holding an open flame.
The students took another shot.
This time, however, it looked like a few more had joined in. He hadn’t imagined it. They were taking shots of some sort of drink, that was clear if the small glints of crystal glass were any indication. What the drink was, however, was not as clear. Whatever it was seemed to put the Slytherins in high spirits, and they weren’t sneering at him today so as far as Harry cared, he didn’t.
Let them have their fun.
Whatever he helped deliver last night can now wait until after he’d have a nap. When he woke up he could ask the twins for clarification if it was still relevant, but right now his curiosity took a back seat. The situation was weird, sure, but sleep right now was far more important than whatever that was.
It was with this state of mind that one Harry Potter picked himself up out of his seat and proceeded to almost frog-march his way out of the hall. He thought he’d heard the twins ask where he was going and promptly told them he was going back to bed. Whether or not they had actually asked that he wasn’t sure, but telling them he was going back to bed was at least polite. He’d almost made it out the hall, through the large wooden doors standing sentinel on either side of the ancient archway, when a niggling feeling at the back of his head caused him to pause.
The-Boy-Who-Lived was no stranger to strange feelings, in fact he was prone to them. This wasn’t that alien a feeling, it was like the sort he got when he was being watched. But unlike how it normally felt, like a cold sweat on a cold day, this was more… warm?
Slowly, Harry turned on the spot in the middle of a sea of students slowly coming in for their own breakfast. Something about this felt both wrong and right at the same time. Wrong because the feeling was new and new feelings often meant bad things. It felt right though because it filled his tired mind with an odd sense of warmth, a longing just out of reach like a mountain you wished to climb but could still admire from afar.
There, sitting at the Slytherin table, was a familiar head of warm chestnut brown hair framing brilliant sapphire blue eyes… and a radiant smile. The girl in question wasn’t looking directly at him, but was definitely looking at him.
The table of Slytherins all took another shot of whatever they were drinking. The girl, whoever they were, noticed at that point he’d seen her and quickly averted her gaze, a light rose colour could be seen on her slightly pale skin before being hidden by the back of her head.
‘What just happened?’ Harry asked for a second time this morning, but this time more to himself as he proceeded to make the long trip up the stairs to Gryffindor tower to his awaiting bed.
====
Severus Snape was having a different Sunday.
Sundays were often quiet affairs he could enjoy in the solitude of his office and personal quarters, partaking in his craft. As the school's Potions master, he often spent free time filling orders for the hospital wing but today could be a day he could just brew for the fun of it. He was in the middle of creating a particularly difficult brew, the cauldron gently simmering while he stirred the mixture counter clockwise at just the right angle. The potion was just the right shade of purple that Snape knew that the finished product would come out perfectly.
The difficulty of this brew came in the form of it being highly volatile if any magic was used in its creation. You couldn’t have an auto-stirrer, no magical flames, not even a stasis charm.
No external magic other than that of the ingredients.
The potion master had been at his station for hours. From the moment he’d woken up at four o’clock that morning, through the breakfast and even the lunch rush, he’d not left his room. Letting himself get lost in the vapers, the only reason he knew time was passing was because one did not create Potions on a whim. It was as much a science as it was an art form and Severus Snape was a skilled artist painting his picture.
The brew was almost finished, after almost eleven hours, he could taste the finish line.
But of course, he was the potions master for a school, and boarding schools never stop.
The small jingle of a bell in his mind signified someone was knocking on the door of his office. He paid it no mind to begin with. He was busy and in these final steps the potion could not be left unattended for more than a minute at a time.
For a moment, he thought the one banging on his door had given up after a single try. After years of teaching at the school, Snape was quite proud of the reaction he’d conjure from the students. He instilled fear and respect in all the little heathens and rewarded his snakes valiantly where he could, and, after all these years the children had finally learnt that if he did not answer on the first knock they were to leave him be.
Or so he thought as the jingle sounded again in his mind.
Once more, he ignored it. They will leave eventually and he was no more than ten minutes away from the potions completion.
‘Go away, you insufferable little ingrates.’ he thought to himself.
Sometimes why he had accepted this job was beyond him. That was until he looked into the eyes of the old headmaster and realised he’d been conned. Not that, from a certain point of view, he didn’t deserve it. This was his penance he supposed. Snape did not have time for his mind to wander any further however as whoever was knocking on the door, wasn’t knocking anymore, began to bang it instead. The sound of a fleshy hand on hardwood echoing faintly into his personal chambers up through his office, in parallel to the jingling bell in his head. They weren’t getting the hint.
With an annoyed sigh, Snape strode from his workstation out the room into his office with his black cloak billowing behind him. He strode through his office with purpose, he didn’t have long and wished to see this annoying presence off as soon as he could. The office was barebones specifically for events like this, other than his desk the office was rather spartan with the exception of a series of bookshelves stocked to the brim with books on both potions and the craft alongside books on the dark arts. Now that was where his passions truely lay, but his skills as a brewer had effectively locked him out of what he had really wanted to do. No matter, at least he enjoyed Potions as much as he did the Dark Arts.
With a practised motion, Severus yanked the door to his office open and glared down his hooked nose at whoever dared to interrupt him. It was one of his older students, Severus would have thought by the time anyone had reached their seventh year here they would have learnt by now not to interrupt him. At least the seventh year Slytherin looked uncomfortable. Good.
“What?” Snape drawled, letting every bit of his annoyance at the interruption seep into his voice.
The student, David Fletching, Snape thought, visibly gulped. “Madam Pomfry sent for you, Professor. She said it was urgent.”
Well, wasn’t that perfect.
Severus Snape answered to exactly three people. The Dark Lord, when it was advantageous to getting the monster killed for the death of Lily. Albus Dumbledore because the man had gotten him to swear enough oaths that made him as loyal as can be. And the third and final person was one Madam Poppy Pomfrey, a woman who Snape would like to think he had a healthy respect and fear of. That woman was a force of nature when she wanted to be and a medical professional of her calibur out-ranked everyone in matters of health. After his own school days having to deal with a younger Poppy, Severus was wise to fear her, for she had only grown more fearsome with age.
Snape shuddered behind his Occlumency shields. He must not show weakness in front of a student, yet alone one of his snakes.
“Did she say what was so urgent you had to bang on my door like some primitive?” Snape commanded sternly. The boy quivered. “No Professor, just that you need to attend the hospital wing as soon as you are able.” They said, clearly understanding their instruction really meant that Snap was to get there as soon as possible and that he was likely going to suffer some form of consequence for this interruption. Severus Snape could not retaliate against the sender so he was of course going to ‘shoot the messenger’ as the Muggles would say.
Snape had two options. Take the words at face value, finish his Potion and go to the hospital as soon as he is actually able, invoking the ire of the most terrifying woman in Hogwarts. Or take the message at meaning and waste an entire day's worth of work and potion ingredients and get away in some way scot-free of whatever he was being summoned for.
He was weighing his options.
In the end, it was an obvious choice. He was paid well enough to buy back the ingredients spent and, while losing out on the potion was a nuisance it’s not like he couldn’t try again. Invoking the wrath of the school Matron was not worth it so he vanished his hard work with barely a second look before making his way to the school’s medical wing. The Potion Master also saw fit to bring with him a batch of headache alleviation potions he had brewed the other day in a way of toll to ease whatever storm he was entering.
When he entered the hospital wing it was eerily quiet. The hall that made up the main body of the hospital wing was well lit, unlike his own section of the castle, casting the space in the warm glow through tall windows. It smelt clean, of strong cleaning agents to ensure a sterile environment giving it the signature stink that marked all medical facilities. Several of the beds that lined the walls had their light blue curtains drawn so it was hard for Snape to figure out why he was here to begin with.
Fortunately, he would soon have his answers as the Matron, Poppy Pomfrey, came marching towards him from her office at the opposite end of the hall. Madam Pomfrey was an older Witch, with greying mousy brown hair and eyes as blue as the Mediterranean and just like that sea they could switch from calm to terrifying in an instant. Despite her years, and quite possibly because of them, the school matron instilled fear in the hearts of school children and adults alike. She ran a tight ship and you would do well to heed her words. Even the great Albus Dumbledore was not safe from her ire should it ever turn on him.
Snape repressed another shudder. He felt like a schoolboy again in her presence, being treated for whatever Potter and his merry band of nightmares did to him. Despite the shudder, the memory did remind him of a happier time, when Lily was still alive and there were few concerns.
The Potions professor waved the memories away.
"You called for me, Matron?" Snape asked in as kind a tone he'd give anyone. It was still a sneer but that was his basic tone at this point.
Madam Pomfrey looked him up and down with her signature 'you're not going to enjoy this' look. "Where have you been all day?" She asked in a deceptively calm tone. Oh yes, this was not going to be a pleasant chat.
"I've been in my private quarters all day, Madam. Why?" Severus responded like all children who came before her. Everyone but other Medi-Witches were children in her eyes.
Poppy gestured curtly for him to follow as she made her way over to one of the closed curtains. There were maybe ten or eleven curtains closed, a high number now he thought of it. Madam Pomfrey then pulled open the curtains to the cubical she'd walked to and with a no, indicated Snape should look inside.
It was a student, fifth year if he remembered right, wearing the green trim uniform of a Slytherin. And they were smiling as though they didn't have a care in the world. Even as they locked eyes the students' smiles never wavered, if anything it seemed to broaden.
"Gooood 'ay, Professa Snep. What luvaly wether wear hving?" The student slurred but didn't seem all that bothered by it. They were drunk. Absolutely smashed.
How the hell did a fifth year get that drunk? Where would they even get the means to get that drunk?
Oh.
It clicked why he was here.
Severus slowly turned to face an irate Madam Pomfrey who was watching the events before her unfurl and saw exactly the moment Snape understood why he was here. Snape was smart, Pomfrey was sharper. He gathered his thoughts.
"Have you summoned me to give this individual detention?" Snape asked carefully.
"I've summoned you here to tell me why I have fifthteen, and counting, students drunk on Firewhiskey." The matron said with enough of an edge to tell him he should phrase his response carefully.
“Fifthteen?” he said, momontailly taken back by the number. How on earth did fifthteen of his students get their hands on one of the strongest alcoholic beverages in their world? Snape looked around the hospital wing again. “Are all of these students from Slytherin?” Severus asked as his gaze swept over all the drawn curtains.
“They are, and these are only the ones we’ve caught in the act or turned themselves in.” she said in the friendly sort of business tones reserved only for Medi-Witches. “Apparently there’s a bit of a ‘game’ going on” she added with an emphasis on the word ‘game’ to make it known what she thought of this game.
“Have any of these ones said where they got the Whiskey from?”
“No. Which is surprising considering how loose lipped they’re on the stuff.”
At that moment, another student wandered into the hospital, a little uneasy on their feet. This time a second year. Snape and Pomfrey looked at the child a little shocked, this was the first second year to come in, and they were clearly drunk as well. The child looked at them for a good four seconds before saying in the most stuck-up tone they could “POHTAH!” before bursting into a fit of giggles that nearly knocked them over. What was even stranger was that this also set the other fifthteen students in the hospital beds off, to join the newcomer in their giggles.
Whatever this was, the Potter brat was involved. Severus Snape felt the start of a headache coming on.
====
Harry Potter felt amazing.
Taking a deep breath, he enjoyed the cool late autumn air that seeped through the old windows of the ancient castle of Hogwarts. Sometimes there was nothing quite like sleeping half the day away. Granted, the moment his head hit his pillow this morning after being dragged down for breakfast he’d fell into a deep slumber immediately from exhaustion but that doesn’t matter. He was due a dreamless sleep and really didn’t want to ask Madam Pomfrey for a Dreamless Draught. Now Harry was fully rested, he had the rest of Sunday at his fingertips!
Or so he would have liked.
Where the young Wizard would have preferred to go down to the Quidditch pitch and fly around a little, Hermione had caught him in the common room and reminded him of the impreding deadlines of certain assignments so flying was quickly shelved. Unfortunately he’d put one too many of those assignments off through the week and now he had to pay the piper… Well, pay the angry Bookwyrm that Hermione would become if he didn’t hand in something eligible at least so he was heading towards the school's library to do some work instead. Ron hadn’t looked particularly happy about that, but he understood not wanting to annoy Hermione. She was a great friend, but not one you crossed easily.
Sometimes Harry actually questioned who was worse, an angry Hermione or the teachers.
Unfortunately for the teachers, his bushy haired friend won that composition without question.
The mere thought of his learned friend being angry was enough of a terrifying thought to send an actual shiver down his back. None of the teachers could spark that response. The worst they could do was give him detention, he had to sleep in the same tower as Hermione and the boys' dorms did not have the same protections as the girls. Pushing the thought of an angry, possibly fire breathing, Hermione out of his mind he thought instead to enjoy the paintings instead. Anything to slow down the metaphorical death march to Madam Pince’s realm of books.
As Harry walked from painting to tapestry to suit of armour, he noticed something was off though.
Walking through the ancient stone halls, the student population seemed… different. Considering Harry had seen them this morning and they had all seemed pretty normal then, the teen thought that was saying something. Granted the Slytherins were acting weird and taking shots of some sort for some reason, but the general student body was normal. That however was then, this was now. Every student he passed seemed much more mellow than normal, like a weight had been lifted. Especially from a quarter of the populus. That fraction also happened to be wearing green trimmed robes.
That caused the Gryffindor to pause momentarily.
Sure he'd slept most of the day away, but he was dragged from bed that morning only a couple hours ago. When he had sat down in the great hall he had only seen maybe five people acting more mellow than normal, they were presumably the only ones doing the shots. Now it looked like most of the house had mellowed out and possibly taken a trip to the greenhouses with the older Hufflepuffs. Whatever was causing this mood shift in the house of ambition, the other houses didn't seem to be partaking but they weren't complaining either.
Even if they weren’t partaking, the other students definitely felt the effect. They were more talkative, he noted, and definitely easier towards their green wearing fellows. Harry didn’t really know how to treat the shifting climate, but no one had sneered at him yet today so that was a bonus in his books. As Harry rounded a corner though, he realised he really shouldn’t think any happy thoughts ever again. Maybe letting the dementors eat his soul might have been a good thing. Afterall, no Dursleys anymore and he wouldn’t have to deal with what he had just walked into.
Standing before him was a slither of Slytherins, at its centre was one Draco Malfoy.
His blonde hair almost glistened in the late afternoon light, though that was probably more due to the amount of gel he used to slick it back more than the shade of blond. His skin was as pale as ever and he was talking with someone, another Slytherin it looked like, rather heatedly in the middle of the corridor. Which, unfortunately, placed him between the Gyryffindors' destination. As the conversation ebbed and flowed between the two snakes, something started to become clear. The individual Malfoy was talking to was far more relaxed about the whole situation than the blonde ferret who looked positively livid. Harry’s tormenter wasn’t quite going red, but he was clearly getting close.
With the swarm of other school kids focusing on the arguing duo, Harry thought he’d try his luck and worm his way around the group. Why Harry ever put stock in his luck was a mystery lost to the age’s as was clear the moment he set foot in the same passageway. Malfoy and, it might have been Nott, had yet to notice him but Greengrass certainly did. Her cool steely eyes were somehow brighter than normal as they locked onto him and the most unsettling thing he’d ever seen happened.
Daphne Greengrass, the queen of ‘resting-bitch-face’, smiled.
Harry had no idea what was happening in Slytherin house today, but that was just not right. He knew she smiled, he’d seen her do it before from afar and it had never been this creepy. Her smile was warm and thankful and directed at him of all people. Taking a half-step back, the Wizard weighed his options. Continue trying to weasel his way past a group of green and silver body snatchers, or take the long way round.
Of course his luck would dictate he wouldn’t have a choice.
“POTAH!” A shrill and pompous voice bellowed in his direction.
Like a deer caught in headlights, he froze to the spot. Slowly turning, he faced the source of the voice and really wished he hadn’t. Draco Malfoy was glaring daggers at him with a level of contempt and bitterness he had grown to expect only from his relatives and from Lucious Malfoy that one time after he had helped free Dobby.
“Err, yeah?” Harry asked dumbly. This only seemed to rile up the ponce more.
“What did you do?!” his rival spat as though the question was obvious. Of course Harry had some idea what he had done, or more specifically had helped do, but the exact details were known only to that girl he had handed the box to and the sowers of chaos that were the Weasley twins.
It would be a cold day in Hell when Harry would admit any of that to the insufferable little twerp though.
“Don’t play dumb, scarhead. You had something to do with this so confess, and I’ll make it quick.” The boy said, immediately drawing his Wand. This, in turn, prompted Harry to draw his own wand as well. The corridor on the way to the library fell silent as the two students stared each other down. Draco stood a visage of rage and pride, Wand pointed at Harry with an air of arrogance. Harry, in comparison, was calm like a leaf flowing down a gentle brook with his Wand pointed towards the floor. He wasn’t the aggressor here and he wasn’t entirely sure what Malfoy was up to, he certainly wasn’t about to be caught being threatening when the day had been going so well.
“Malfoy, I have no idea what you’re on about.” Harry denied easily. It wasn’t like he knew enough specifics to tell a full truth anyway.
This was clearly the wrong thing to say. Draco’s rage flared and his wand sparked in response to the strong emotion. If he was going to be honest, this was the most normal a Slytherin had been all day. This wasn’t to last though at the next thing that came from the snobs mouth.
“It’s all your fault, Potter!”
And then every other Slytherin in the hall took a shot. Even Pansy, and she was normally Malfoy’s cheerleader!
“WHATEVER YOU’VE DONE, POTTER, TAKE IT BACK OR ELSE!”
They took another shot. Daphne giggled! Harry was very confused.
What followed that had Harry actually relax a little out of befuddlement, unsure what to make of the scene unfurling before him. Malfoy didn’t even cast a single spell, he just spent a good minute screaming at him and saying how he was the root of all his problems and that somehow he’d made them worse. What followed each screech of rage and comment against Harry had all the other students around him down shot after shot. Crabb even let out a burb of fire after one of his and it clicked.
Firewhiskey.
He’d helped smuggle Firewhiskey into the Slytherin common room!
Malfoy hadn’t stopped his tirade of rants while Harry was coming to this realisation. Not only was he still going, he had actually gotten louder and almost incoherent. No one seemed to care though, or at least not for him. The Slytherins were taking shot after shot, and that could not be good for them, while students from other houses just gathered to watch the blonde snake make an utter fool of himself. Not that that was very difficult in the first place but here we were.
Apparently, at some point Professor Mcgonagall arrived but that didn’t stop the ferret from vomiting words. It did, however, cause many people to freeze and look on with whiskey blurred vision at the stern teacher.
“What on earth is going on here?!” Mcgonagall commanded with a voice that left little room for argument.
One of Draco’s posse had the gall to laugh at her. The laughter didn’t last long as the older teacher zeroed in on her prey with a glare that told of death by detention until their hands fell off. By this point Malfoy seemed to be running out of steam as the torrent of insults slowly petered out. Even with one of the sternest teachers looming over them though, this didn’t stop a few of the Slytherins (mainly the dumber ones, see Crabb and Goyle) from taking a few more shots.
Harry, still being close to the doorway, had the greatest view of what happened next. He’d never actually been close enough to Mcgonnagall before she blew to notice that her left eye twitched before she took a deep calming breath.
“You’re all having detention, after you’ve all been to the hospital wing. You all know this right?” she said in a calm tone with none of the ‘calm’ meaning.
At that moment, it became a free-for-all as many of the Slytherins tried to scarper. Figures tried to disburse left and right, one even tried to fling themselves through a window, as a flock of black cloaks with green trim billowed in every direction. At the start Harry thought there may have been a good twenty or more students around Malfoy, now there were five.
Granted, those five had been frozen by the Professor, and it looks like she got another four that had been fleeing. One Daphne Greengrass was among the four who had been fleeing and they looked the happiest Harry had ever seen them.
“Professor,” Harry started nervously, not taking his eyes off the petrified students as his head of house levitated them towards her. “What just happened?”
====
Transfiguration class the next day was an interesting affair. Not only had a quarter not tuned up for class but a couple students were even sent to the hospital wing during the period. It was the third period lesson of the day, just after lunch. If Harry was to say anything was off it would be that throughout the day he had seen less and less of Slytherin house. After his little outburst yesterday, Draco Malfoy had been silent, or had been in his presence, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t talking.
The few students that had been sent off to the hospital wing had been caught in class taking a shot of Firewhiskey. Other than that though, it had been quite the productive lesson. Not only had Harry finally got the hang of the spell they were learning, but he was able to figure out who he had handed the crate of magic.
Tracey Davis.
How her name had slipped his mind was beyond him, they had been sharing classes for years. The brunette normally sat up at the back by ‘The Ice Queen’ but today she was alone today. Considering Harry had seen Daphne being levitated away yesterday, he wasn’t surprised to see her missing. He was, however, surprised to see Tracey sitting alone and that nearly half of Slytherin house was missing with even more going as the day went on. As the class had gone on he couldn’t help but notice her more. She seemed quiet, subdued even, the fact Harry got the spell was a miracle considering his attention lay elsewhere. As transfiguration came to an end, he also noticed that Tracey was a little uneasy on her feet. When he had handed over the crate she had been quite sprie, almost springy, in her step but now she didn’t look like she even really knew where the floor was.
Oh.
He had given her the crate. Whatever the snakes were doing, it could have even been her idea. She was probably more shit-faced than the others! As if on cue, as the class continued to filter out of Mcgonnagall’s room, the seemingly inevitable happened. Tracey had been lingering towards the back of the gaggle of students and was making to go down the stairs just as everyone else did. He had charms next with Hufflepuff so was about to go up the stairs instead with the rest of Gryffindor when the Brunette Slytherin tripped on her own feet and began to fall down the stone steps. There were gasps of shock but they didn’t fully register as the Gryffindor seeker reached out like he was reaching for gold.
In a way, he was.
As his arms reached out, the world seemed to slow down. The sun caught in ringlets of brown hair that seemed to shine like a snitch in flight. His fingers began to snake around her upper arm as terror began to work its way onto her beautiful face. Sapphire blue eyes wide in fear as her balance shifted with gravity pulling her towards the lower landing.
And then she stopped. The world sped up and Harry pulled carefully yet firmly on her arm to right her. The girl's eyes were still wide as she gazed at the landing below and the students who had paused and were now looking up at her. Her skin, usually a light tanned colour, had gone white as a clean sheet and she trembled ever so slightly.
“Are you okay?” Harry asked, placing a steading hand on her shoulder.
Davis looked up at him, there wasn’t really much of a height difference so instead of staring at his nose she looked into his eyes. Clear sapphire blue connected with emerald green. They just looked at a moment before something connected behind her eyes and her cheeks shone the deepest red.
“Err, thank you, H-Potter.” She caught herself with a cough. Somehow more coherent than he would have expected for someone he thought was probably drunk out of their mind.
“Would you like any help?” He asked, not sure he should let her go on her own.
“No no, I should be fine. Thank you for the help!” Tracey refused, brushing him off before quickly making her way down the stairs. She was still very uneven as she passed from step to step but this time had successfully made it down the way. Harry watched her form disappear down another flight of stares before he turned back to head towards Charms. Everyone had watched the events unfurl like they had been in the stands of the Quidditch pitch, just without the cheering.
‘Great’ he thought as many pairs of eyes followed him as he rejoined his fellow Gryffindors. Even as the prickling feeling of many eyes made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, he paid them no mind. How could he when the image of brilliant blue eyes and flustered cheeks that suddenly had his own face warming wouldn’t leave him be.
====
It had been a long day of classes, and it was all finally over.
Divination had been business as normal, predictions of his death and boring. Why he didn’t switch classes was beyond him but at this point it was too late to switch tracks. Of course, the Slytherin members of the class hadn’t been in, but at this point the Gryffindor had expected that. Now he was on his way down to dinner after putting his bookbag away, Ron had hung back at the common room to join a game of exploding snap and Hermione was still in her Runes class so he was on his own for a bit.
Taking advantage of most of Slytherin either being mellow or missing, Harry thought he’d just take a walk around the grounds and take in the castle grounds in late Autumn before the snow came and buried it all in white.
When Harry had left the warm reds and golds of Gryffindor common room for the more drab coloured stones of the Hogwarts corridors, he had left expecting to spend the afternoon outside. Enjoying the cool breeze and colourful canopy of both the grounds and forbidden forest. He didn’t want to go in again anytime soon, but it was still nice to watch the wind blow through its branches. What he did not expect was to make it about halfway down from Gryffindor tower and bump into a certain brown haired girl leaning against one of the walls, throwing up into one of the suits of armour.
The armour did not look happy, but was rubbing the girls back anyway with soothing circles.
He was frozen for a moment, watching this all unfurl. It was hard to tell if the suit of armour had noticed him, they were often quite the observant bunch so it was likely. Tracey certainly hadn’t though. With sure, easy steps, Harry quietly made his way towards the unlikely pair. The sour smell of bile mixed with Firewhiskey hit him hard but he did not waver.
“Would you like a hand to go to the hospital wing?” he asked kindly.
Tracey startled, before throwing back up into the bowels of the enchanted suit of plate. She gave an affirmative noise before wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her robes. Her usually radiant brown hair was glued to her scalp and she looked a little like death warmed over. It wasn’t the most flattering sight if he was honest but somehow she was still able to look up at him and give a smile in thanks before taking his offered arm for balance. Together, they walked down towards the hospital wing in silence. Getting a few funny looks from onlookers as they went but the Gryffindor just shrugged them off and Tracey didn’t seem with it enough to notice. Absent-mindedly, Harry cast a series of light cleaning, drying and warming charms on her, noticing that she had begun to shiver. With each charm his companion let out a satisfied sound the teen could only describe as cute.
“So, what’s been going on?” Harry asked as they rounded a corner away from prying eyes. Harry had opted to use one of the secret passages he knew about to cut some of the traffic and looks.
Davis didn’t even seem to notice the change in direction. “Oh, you know, dumb ideas that spiralled out of control.” she said with a nervous chuckle that ended with a hiccup. “A certain ferret had been more of a git than normal so I thought I’d have some fun.” she continued without prompting “How was I supposed to know the entire house would get in on it?!” she added, defensively.
“It’s just, no one stands up to them. Well, no one but Harry, but no one’s really as noble as him so he doesn’t count!” The embarrassment in her voice as she began to ramble was certainly new to him. It also wasn’t lost that she hadn’t fully noticed that she was holding onto the arm of the same person she was talking about, nor the faint red glow that came to her face.
“What do you mean by that?” Harry prompted.
Apparently the half drunk girl on his arm really didn’t need much prompting for that as she let out an annoyed huff. “Draco-” and the way she said the boys name with such venom was weird to hear from a Slytherin, “-is a nothing but a bully. But with Professor Snape being his Godfather he wont do anything about the prat.” Tracey seethed before hiccuping again. “I just wanted to get back at him, it was simple really. Every time he complained about Harry, take a shot. Convince a few housemates to join in and we could harmlessly convince him to quieten down a bit.” the way she phrased it made it sound like it was meant to be harmless fun. “Turns out, however, the git complains about him a bit more than I thought.” she added a little sadly.
“I don’t get why he hates him so much! He’s such a nice person!” she continued to gush. “Sure, he can be a bit cold to people but the school’s treated him like shit. What else do they expect?”
Harry wasn’t sure he had being defended by a Slytherin on his school year bingo card, but hearing someone support him who wasn’t in Gryffindor was a weird experience. A sudden warm feeling began to grow in his chest at the notion.
“What if,” Harry began for the first time, not even sure what he was doing. “What if I told you the only reason he’s in Gryffindor is because he met Draco Malfoy.” he said with a small smirk.
“No.” The Slytherin said somewhere between disbelief and shock. Apparently being drunk just made her situational awareness evaporate and not her problem-solving. By this time, however, they had arrived just outside the hospital wing. The large sturdy doors opened automatically on their approach.
Stepping into the hospital wing of Hogwarts and not going in to be treated was a weird experience. Madam Pomfrey wasted no time in coming out from behind a nearby curtain and gave him one look before the frown already on her face deepened. “I hope, Mr Potter, you are not here to be seen to?” she half asked and half demanded. Tracey froze. “No, Madam Pomfrey, I found Tracey being ill on one of the upper floors and thought she should come see you.” Harry answered quickly. He may be brave, but he wasn’t dumb enough to leave details out when the Matron used that tone. The school Medi-Witch glanced between the two teens for a moment before nodding.
He turned to face Tracey, the girl was looking up at him with red cheeks and looked like she’d rather be anywhere else out of embarrassment. Harry smiled warmly at her. “Talk to you later?” he asked. The Slytherin before him merely nodded, not trusting her voice, before Harry turned to leave.
====
Albus Dumbledore was having an interesting Monday. He would not, however, call it a ‘good’ Monday. Yesterday had been worrying, but today was somehow far worse. At some point yesterday, potentially even before breakfast, members of Slytherin house had started a drinking game. Honestly Albus didn’t care that much about that, he ran a boarding school and it’s not the most outlandish thing to have happened. What was worrying though was that by the end of the day every student in the house of Slytherin had gotten involved. Currently, the Headmaster of one of, if not the, oldest Wizarding school in the world was on his way to the medical wing to discuss the issue with Poppy, at her request.
Dumbledor had just gotten to the Hospital wing in time to see one Harry Potter leaving the same place he was about to enter. This was not all that surprising a person to bump into considering the boy had his own bed reserved, but Albus hadn’t heard of the boy being hurt so it was a surprise nonetheless. Perhaps something to look into later? As he entered the room he was met by the age old familiar sight of the large hall that made up the healers domain. Aged stone walls and tall windows which illuminated the space nicely gave the room a warmer feeling than most probably felt when they entered where a large open fire kept the space, along with liberal use of magic, warm during the colder periods in a more literal sense. The long hall was normally lined with many empty beds, today seemed to be a grave day indeed though as all the beds, as well as the spare cots for emergencies were full to capacity and then some as even then there were patients in conjured chairs.
What struck the Headmaster more though was just how ill most of the students looked, even if they appeared in high spirits.
Madam Pomfrey was just seeing a student with chestnut brown hair and blue eyes to a chair while handing her a potion of some sort before she noticed his arrival. The look on her face was not a promising one. It certainly promised something, just nothing good in his near future. The Medi-witch wasted no time in approaching him now her current charge was situated and fixed him with a glare that told him exactly how this conversion was going to go.
Poorly.
“Albus.” The Matron greeted kurtley.
“Poppy.” Albus nodded his own greeting, if a tad more kindly than she had.
“You’re going to ban this.” She told him. It wasn’t a request.
“And what would I be banning?” he asked with no small amount of confusion. He knew the students were getting a bit tipsy, the strong smell of Firewhiskey in the hospital alone screamed that, and alcohol consumption on premises was already banned. What exactly she wanted him to ban was currently a mystery he hoped was about to be solved.
“The students,-” she started with a broad gesture to the hall of bed-ridden Slytherins,”- have invented a new game it seems. Every time Draco Malfoy speaks ill of Mr Potter, they take a shot.” she said with a level of contempt reserved for healers when discussing people who are lucky to have survived very stupid ideas.
Albus understood immediately what had happened. They played the game perfectly.
“Oh.” was all he could say.
Albus took another look around the hospital wing, dinner would be happening shortly and he knew he was going to have to make an announcement. “Say, Poppy, what houses are represented here?” he asked, fearing the answer.
“Slytherin.”
This did not bode well. “And, how much of that house?”
“Almost all of it.”
“Almost?”
“As of right now, all the first years and now only one fifth year are missing.”
You didn’t need to be considered the wisest wizard alive to know exactly who that last fifth year was. Albus Dumbledore let out a tired sigh, already seeing exactly how this evening was going to go. “Do we know where they got the Firewhiskey from, at least?”
“No, no one’s been forthcoming yet on that and I doubt we’ll find out anytime soon.” Pomfrey said glumly. “We have, however, found some of the bottles. They were all shoved into a cupboard on the third floor. Honestly, how these children are still alive is a miracle in and of itself.” She added, with a bit more hope than was expected. The old Wizard didn’t think he wanted to know how much of the expensive alcohol his students had consumed over the space of two days.
Shortly after this, Albus bid his school nurse farewell and headed to Dinner. He would make an announcement before everyone went to bed.
Dinner was a strange affair that evening with almost all of their Slytherins missing. How the first years didn’t get involved he didn’t know but was grateful all the same. The young Malfoy boy did not look all that happy to be alone. His fellow Slytherins kept clear of him and he sat alone at the opposite end of the table closest to the staff table where the younger eleven year olds were by the door. The food was lovely as always and chatter amongst the hall was louder than normal, the rest of the student body far more relaxed than usual.
Despite the turn of events, the student body was in far higher spirits than normal.
Albus wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not…
As the last of the plates were cleared away, Albus got to his feet.
“Now then, I’m sure you’d all like to get off to bed but before you do I have an announcement to make.” he stated clearly, halting the shuffling feet of many who had begun to rise before they promptly sat back down. “It has been brought to my attention that certain individuals have started partaking in a particular drinking game. I am telling you all now that that game is to stop immediately. Failure to comply with this particular new rule may result in expulsion for your own safety. That is all, have a good night.” He finished clearly with a signature warm smile after his dire warning. He knew it wouldn’t stop them, not really, but it should hopefully limit them. In the near distance, a young man with blonde hair went beet-red.
“This is all Potter’s fault!” could be heard from the lad, and so too the probable cause for almost a fourth of his school being hospitalised.
Severus Snape took a shot.
====
The next day, things seemed to have gone back to some semblance of normal. Or at least she had hoped they had. Truth be told, Tracey had a cracking headache Madam Pomfrey said wouldn’t go away anytime soon. Apparently it was a side effect of magically induced hangovers from drinking magical drinks like Firewhiskey.
Tracey had drunk a lot of Firewhiskey so was expecting the hangover to last a while yet.
She wasn’t really mad, how could she be. This was all self-inflicted and, in all honesty, she’d do it again and no one could stop her! This didn’t mean the young Witch wasn’t dreading classes though. Oh no. Those were going to suck so bad with a hangover you cannot cure through magical means. Luckily all of Slytherin house’s classes had been banned for the day for second year and up while they nursed their collective heads. This meant Tracey had a free day, but she was by no means going to spend it in the hospital wing with the others. No sir-y! Not when she had technically brought this down upon them all.
Once Madam Pomfrey had pretty much given them all carte blanche to leave since they were all fine after a night of detox potions, which were normally reserved for recovering alcoholics mind you, she quickly made her escape to catch the end of breakfast. What made the Slytherin think that was any sort of good idea when it felt like dragons were banging at the gates of her mind was anyone’s guess but she went anyway. She hadn’t even entered the hall before her head started to ache more at the ambient volume increase outside the doors, this response made her suddenly dread rounding the corner and passing through the doors to the great hall.
Her pace slowed to a crawl and stopped all together when the doors came into view.
It felt like a muggle construction crew was hard at work in her ears and she really did not want to go in there anymore. The issue was she had missed breakfast in the hospital and was really hungry. Even if she chose to go back to her dorm and her welcoming bed, she still had to pass by the main hall.
It also suddenly dawned on her that Malfoy was lurking around somewhere…
The sound of someone clearing their throat brought her out of her rather sluggish thoughts and she blinked rapidly. Looking around, Tracey was surprised to see Potter had paused walking down the stairs and was looking at her with an odd sort of smirk. Staring into his emerald eyes made her head hurt a little less. A familiar warmth bubbled up through her chest and she couldn’t help but smile back as her face reddened.
Why did she always have to react like this whenever he was close?!
The raven haired boy made his way over to her from the stairwell and Tracey felt rooted to the floor. “Morning, how’re you feeling?” he asked softly. Thank Merlin he didn’t speak at normal volume, she didn’t think she could manage that as much as she had this morning. “Better, thank you.” Tracey answered just as softly, betraying the lie. Harry frowned a little at that.
“Are you sure you should be up and about?” His voice was full of a level of concern that made the light flush on her cheeks deepen and run down her neck.
“I couldn’t stay in there anymore.” she tried to deflect. It wasn’t a lie, she really did not want to stay in there any more than she had to. Harry took this in, smiling in a way that told her he knew the feeling. Probably one of the few who did considering how often he ended up there himself.
“You hungry?” The question was very much appreciated, a sentiment her stomach apparently agreed with as it let out a rather loud grumble. The young Witch quickly covered her belly in embarrassment, of course, she’d missed dinner last night due to her stay in the hospital wing and was too tired by the time she was able to eat to do so.
Harry just smiled playfully at her. “Come on, I know where the kitchens are and know a few things good for hangovers you can try.”
He really did know where the kitchens were and currently Tracey Davis found herself sinking into a plush armchair with a bowl of chips covered in melted cheese that somehow made the hangover somewhat bearable along with a pint of water. She figured there was a story behind how he knew of this particular cure but figured she could ask another day.
“I think I love you!” she exclaimed with a happy sigh after finishing her odd breakfast.
“You could at least take me for a drink first.” Potter shot back with an attractive smile she was not ready for.
“As long as it’s not Firewhiskey, I’ll get you whatever you want.”
“It’s a date.”