I Beg Your Pardon, Potter?

Chapter 22

The next day dawned early and bright. But Harry did not wake with the sun. Not in the slightest. None of the Gryffindor sixth years did.

Neville was the first to stir, groaning at the ache in his head. After swearing to never drink again - a promise he knew he would not keep even as he made it - he stumbled into the washroom. He emerged ten minutes later feeling slightly better, but still worse for wear and so decided to make a trip to the kitchen to see if the house elves had any coffee. He pulled on a pair of tracksuit bottoms and the first shirt to hand and traipsed down the tower stairs.

Upon reaching the kitchens, he found an enthusiastic Dobby who was all too happy to get Neville coffee, toast, doughnuts, scones and jam, pumpkin juice, and - most importantly - a hangover cure potion. Neville picked up the potion and blearily inspected it. It was a potion maker he had not heard of called Half and Half. Dobby must have seen him frowning, because he quickly explained that this was Master Snape's latest venture.

"It launched just a month or so ago," Dobby said, nodding excitedly.

"Oh," was all that Neville could muster up the energy to say.

"Dobby hears that they are, how do the wizards put it? All the rage. Although Dobby doesn't understand why people are angry. They seem quite popular."

Neville's mouth turned downwards as he considered the bottle. His head throbbed again and this was the catalyst to him popping open the top and taking a tentative sip.

It tasted like strawberries and mint and Neville found that he liked it. He pored over the text on the side and read that he was supposed to drink the entire bottle and so he did, gulping it down thirstily. As the potion hit his stomach, an icy hot sensation flooded through him. The coolness took away the edge of the pain and then the heat soothed it away. In a matter of minutes, Neville felt like himself again. He looked appreciatively down at the bottle again. He understood exactly why the potions were proving to be popular.

"Can I have four more of these, Dobby?" he asked, thinking of his fellow Gryffindor roommates. "In fact, it might be a good idea to distribute these to the entirety of the Sixth Year." Dobby looked at him, his head tilted to the side in question.

"The whole Sixth Year?" he asked. "Dobby thought the Halloween party wasn't until next week."

"It's not," Neville said. "But we had an impromptu gathering and I believe other members of my year may being feeling just as worse for wear as I was." Dobby bowed.

"Dobby will get right on that," he said. "Wait here and I will bring the four for your tower." He scampered away, leaving Neville holding his tray of food. Neville picked up the doughnut and nibbled it while he waited.

It was a chocolate doughnut, but it was also glazed with clear icing under the top layer of chocolate. It was almost too sweet, but it had flakes of sea salt dotted over the top, which balanced out the sweetness. He wondered if the House Elves always had these doughnuts around or if they had made them for Halloween.

"Dobby," he asked as the elf made his way back over, carrying four, clinking potion bottles. "Do you always have these?" He waved the doughnut.

"Yes, Master Longbottom," Dobby said. "They are Professor Flitwick's favorites." He clicked his fingers and transferred the potions to the tray.

"Is there anything else Dobby can do for you?"

"Is there any chance of more doughnuts?" Neville hazarded. Dobby snapped his fingers again and five more doughnuts added themselves to the tray.

"Ta, Dobby. Thank you so much," Neville said. Dobby beamed with pride.

...

"Since when were there hangover cure potions?" Ron asked, glaring suspiciously at the bottle that Neville had handed him.