Harry Potter and the Year After

Chapter Eight: The Party at Number Twelve

Chapter 8: The Party at Number Twelve

Two days and a few hours later, Harry was thoroughly drunk on firewhiskey. It really wasn't his fault. Not completely anyway.

It was somewhat Hermione's fault, Harry decided.

After all, if it hadn't been for Hermione, then Ginny wouldn't have been accidentally invited. Why Ginny came was beyond Harry. He thought she wanted nothing more to do with him, after all.

Harry moved through the house as though he didn't belong there. Probably a hundred different past Hogwarts students had shown up at different points. He noticed that Oliver and Cassandra had shown but left relatively early. Neville, Luna, Seamus, Dean, the Patils... even Bill and Fleur, oddly.

Toward midnight, while the party had thinned but was still going strong, Harry needed the bathroom but couldn't quite remember where it was.

He finally found it and was half-way through urinating into the toilet before he realized that Luna was also in the bathroom. She was in the claw-footed bathtub, more accurately.

"Oh, Luna, sorry," Harry said when he belatedly noticed her long blonde hair flowing over the edge of the tub.

"Oh, Harry, it's quite alright," she said as dreamily as she ever did. Once Harry finished urinating, the toilet flushed itself and he washed his hands. And just then, Neville burst into the unlocked bathroom.

"Got it!" Neville exclaimed, brandishing a little bag.

"Is that spliff?" Harry asked, scrunching his nose.

"It's Wizard's Weed," Neville said.

"You want some, Harry?" Luna asked sitting up a little when Neville sat down in the bathtub with her. There wasn't any water in it, Harry was thankful to notice.

"Looks like there's not quite enough room in there for me," Harry said, turning to leave.

"Aw, come on Harry," Neville said. He grabbed Luna's hand and pulled her up and out of the bathtub. Harry noticed that he was turning back to face Neville without making the decision to do so. The three of them sat down on the white marble floor of the bathroom in a triangle.

A knock came at the door then. When the three of them glanced between each other and didn't answer the knock, Hermione came in.

"Harry, are you alright in there—oh, sorry, I didn't... what are you three doing?" Hermione asked, eyes wide. She flicked her wand at the door and it shut and locked itself. The overloud Weird Sisters' music was muffled.

"Wizard's Weed," Neville said, as he rather skillfully rolled a joint.

"It lets you see a path to your future," Luna said, "but every time I do it, I see something different. It's so strange."

"It's a load of rubbish," Hermione said, sitting down next to Harry. "According to Divination theory, it's supposed to allow you to see one of your twelve possible Fates. But of course that's just what people say so they can have a reason to do the stuff. I was worried that you were sick in here, but seeing as you're fine..." She stood from her crouch.

"Hermione, will you just relax for once?" Harry said, patting her knee. She raised an eyebrow and didn't move until he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down to the floor. "It's not like we're in a hurry to go murder a dark lord. Sit." Their triangle became a square.

"Out of the sake of curiosity," Hermione said, glancing around to the three of them, "I will do this. But this never leaves this room."

"Got it," Neville said, grinning, "I doubt it'd look good if anyone knew a Hogwarts professor did this." Luna smiled as though she was already high on the stuff. Harry wondered if she didn't do the stuff more often and had simply hidden it well.