𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆

Part 5

The Party

Hermione was the first to arrive, with her latest beau. He was a nice fellow, dark-haired, seemed fairly intelligent. He worked for the ministry. And he was a muggle. Harry was relieved to see that he didn't look nervous at all. He had come to dread parties with nervous muggles. They kept jumping if anyone dropped anything, and blanched when a wand came out. Hermione had been seeing this one for some time, and Harry thought he remembered him from some meetings at the Ministry a few years ago. So nothing that would happen at this party should be any surprise to him, in spite of the fact that this was his first appearance in Ron and Harry's flat.

He hugged Hermione as her friend (what was his name again?) hung up their coats while Ron eyed him pensively. It was no secret to Harry that Ron had a longstanding crush on Hermione, but he had yet to do anything about it. Her parade of 'friends' did nothing to encourage him. She hugged Harry back tightly, then looking concernedly into his face. "How are you feeling, Harry?" she asked. No one wanted to go into details, not at a social event, but she could hardly hide her concern. She had read about the potion he was taking, and the fact that it was modified, which indicated to her that it's side effects were unknown. It was as if she were watching for him to suddenly sprout wings.

Harry smiled. "I'm fine! Really, I'm just fine." He wasn't lying. The last two weeks had gone very smoothly. Draco had been right; shortly after he had left, the potion had begun easing the scissor-hold Voldemort's pain and anger seemed to have on Harry's brain. He had been drinking a cup of the stuff every morning for the past two weeks, and though he did still have to endure some vague impressions first thing in the morning (sensations of cold, painful, tingling fingers, a white, stiff-looking face whose lips moved soundlessly, bloodied limbs, water dripping) Voldemort was for the most part out of his brain.

Other than feeling a bit stretched, like too little paint scraped across too large a canvas, he was doing quite well. Draco was landing fewer hits on him in their fencing sessions, and his concentration was back to normal. He had been in almost constant contact with Dumbledore, and the Ministry was taking the evidence at hand fairly seriously, though a few felt that this was some kind of cruel joke. But all the same it had been very quiet; too quiet. No intelligence was coming in at all at about Voldemort's return, or anything else. They were working hard on building defenses, but who had taken the charm, and how it could possibly have been accomplished given the impossibly tight security around it, was still a mystery. Draco had been contacted numerous times about it, and he very keeping very tight-lipped about what he knew, which, Harry suspected, was a fair bit more than the rest of them.

Hermione smiled at him, and whispered, "So...is...HE coming?" She gave him a look that was somewhere between 'oh you naughty thing' and 'is this really a good idea?', and he grinned broadly at her.

"Well, HE has been invited, and HE has agreed to come. We'll see if he does or not." She raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. Harry shook hands with Hermione's friend, who's name turned out to be Edmund. Ron greeted Hermione warmly, ignoring Edmund to the best of his ability.

Shortly after them, Seamus arrived, bearing a large bottle of his favourite Scotch. "I bought this in the Orkneys, Harry! Nothing's too good for you!"

"Does that mean you intend to share?" Ron asked, as Seamus grinned fiendishly and poured himself a shot.

A group from Ministry arrived, thankfully minus Susan Goldsmith (Too bad THAT hadn't ended better, Harry thought), followed quickly by a handful of Ron and Harry's intramural quidditch team. Ginny, Fred, and George arrived together, followed by Neville, who no one had seen in ages. The mood was light; most people had met, and those who hadn't were rapidly getting acquainted. Harry enjoyed having this particular group of people visit, because it required so little work on his part. Fred and George were constant entertainers, Seamus was happy as long as he was near the Scotch, and Hermione simply didn't tolerate men who couldn't hold their own at a party. Ron was keeping her occupied, talking to her as if he hadn't just seen her yesterday, when she came over for dinner. Harry grabbed a drink himself and fell into a crowd watching George and Fred pass out exploding candies, which most people knew well enough to avoid, but Neville seemed to be only to happy to test out for them.