Harry Potter and the Desideratum Crusade [Harmione]

8. And a Nightmare

They had been gone a long time. Long enough for Harry to finish the bottle of firewhiskey. He was sitting and watching his other friends enjoying each other's company. He decided that he was a moody drunk. One minute carefree and happy, the next, feeling grumpy. He watched as Ron and Hermione came back smiling, arm in arm.

'Well,' he thought bitterly, 'looks like they have had a good snog. I should be happy for them, I guess.'

They came over to where Harry was sitting and Hermione sat down. Ron picked up the empty bottle and looked at it.

"Don't tell me you polished this off by yourself, mate," he said.

Harry just shrugged as he warily watched Hermione, trying to gage her reaction to earlier events. He had crossed the line when he had kissed her back. He knew it, but he couldn't help himself. He was worried because he didn't want to lose her as a friend. He needed her, and the thought of losing her scared him. Hermione turned and saw him watching her, and the look in his eyes told her of his fears. She smiled to reassure him. She could never leave him...

"It's been a good party Harry. I've had a great time. I can't believe that I actually saw you dancing several times! Must be that coming of age thing, or maybe the alcohol?" she teased.

Harry relaxed. Hermione seemed to be her old self, and he accepted her unspoken reassurance that everything was okay between them. He was relieved. He didn't need any further complications in his life right now. He decided to store the experience away, like a dream. An incredibly, wonderful dream. He gave her a sloppy grin and leaned back in his chair.

"Must be the alcohol; drunken Harry likes to dance. A sober Harry remembers a certain Triwizard Ball and the fear of being on a dance floor," he shot back.

"Ugh!" said Ron eyeing the dregs in the bottom of the bottle wistfully before putting it back down. "Don't get me started on that! Fred and George still won't let me forget about having to dance with McGonagall."

Harry smiled, remembering the conversation he had with the twins back then. He felt his spirits lift and the bad mood go away. It was an interesting sensation, being drunk, and no control over one's emotions. He was in fact, feeling quite dizzy and light-headed. He figured that he couldn't stand if he tried. His body and his brain were not even talking coherently to each other anymore. He watched Ron flop down in the chair beside Hermione and lean against the back of her chair comfortably, as the two of them engaged in a conversation about some of the couples on the dance floor. He wasn't really listening to them, just watching them as they leaned in to share some observation. They seemed so content with each other, as if something had changed. They looked like a happy couple, sort of like Bill and Fleur did when they were together. They deserved some happiness in all of this, he decided, and he wasn't going to stand in their way.

'Especially Hermione,' he thought, 'she should be with someone stable, someone who doesn't have a death threat against him by some evil lord. They both deserve to be happy, considering all that they had been through with me.' He smiled as he realized he couldn't have asked for two better friends, and he vowed that he would be happy for them. They deserved it.

All too soon the evening was coming to an end and Harry's friends came over to say their good-byes. Harry saw Neville being guided towards the house by Fred and George, and he figured that it was time to call it a night as well. He was really having a hard time keeping his eyes open. Harry stood up and proceeded to stumble sideways and sit rather abruptly on the ground. Ron laughed at his lack of coordination and reached over to help him up.

"Upsy-daisy, mate," he grinned, "good thing you don't need to fly or catch a snitch tonight."

Harry gave him a lopsided grin as he swayed unsteadily on his feet. "I can still fly circles around you, any time, anywhere. Want to have a go?"