Magic Never Dies (Harmione)

Chapter 14

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Lupin assured them that he would call in the Aurors for them, but he wanted to go and check out the scene before he did.

"You'll have to have your little friend back while I go," he told them, and it took them a moment to drag their minds back to Malfoy.

He staggered out of the fireplace a few moments later, shaking off Floo powder like an offended cat. His hands were still bound and his eyes were furious.

"You," he said to Ron, narrowing them to slits. "You utter, total..."

Harry flicked his wand silently in Malfoy's direction and his lips continued to move soundlessly. It did not seem to put him off a bit; he kept right on as if they could hear every word.

"Lot he needs to get off his chest, that one," said Ron, shaking his head. He went straight to the cabinet where they housed their store of butterbeer and like supplies, and pulled out the firewhiskey bottle and three glasses.

They dropped into chairs round the table, aching for things they were too tired to pursue; Ron was ravenously hungry, Hermione badly wanted a bath and Harry badly wanted Hermione.

Ron poured three glasses and pushed two across the table to Harry and Hermione, then raised his.

"To you, Harry. Now I owe you."

Harry shook his head. "No. I remember the Shrieking Shack, Ron. I'll always remember that. And the chess match. Both of you, how many times have you saved me, one way or another? You could never owe me. It doesn't work like that." He lifted his own glass. "To friends."

"Friends, then," Ron agreed.

"Friends." Hermione raised her glass as well. Malfoy made a gagging noise as they drank.

Hermione downed half of hers in one go and sputtered. Harry made to pat her back and saw the angry spell burn running across her shoulder. He dragged himself to his feet and made his way across the kitchen while Ron goggled at her.

"Easy on there, Hermione. We've got a full bottle and the night ahead of us," he said wonderingly.

"I can see why it's called firewhiskey now," she managed. "I always thought it was the smoke, but it burns a good bit going down, doesn't it."

"Makes your mouth feel like your cat's left a dead mouse in it the next morning as well, just to warn you," Harry reminded her. He brought a bowl of water and a clean cloth back to the table with him, slopping slightly as he limped, and sat down again behind her. "My turn to take care of you," he told her, gingerly pushing her hair away over her other shoulder. "You've got quite a little burn back here. Drink up."

She felt him lay the wet towel on her shoulder to soak loose where her shirt had stuck and hastily followed his instructions, downing the second half of the glass. Ow, ow, ow.

Malfoy came and sat in Harry's abandoned chair, mouth finally still but clearly sulky and furious. They continued to ignore him; the lack of attention seemed to sap him entirely of the creativity required to escape.

"What spell did you use that actually took someone's hand off?" Ron asked, refilling her glass.

"It's not what it sounds like," she found herself saying to Malfoy. Wow, firewhiskey must work fast if she felt the need to explain herself to him. "I didn't mean to, it just sort of happened."