Just Around the Riverbend

*squee* I saw the new Harry Potter movie tonight! It was even better because I was in costume! I went as a Slytherin student. All right, now I'm not going to reply to the reviews from chapter 2o, but I will acknowledge them. And then I'll reply to chapter 21.

margaritama
Heidi191976
angeles
Voracious Reader
Anon
meankitty - wtf is Goosfraba? I just had to ask...
Alina
Anathema
Pickles87
Kylie Snape

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Chapter 21

Voracious Reader
angeles
Anathema
Heidi191976
margaritama
diamond-helen
Labibliographe
leValkyrie
Alina

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Hermione stumbled through the floo and hiccupped softly. She nearly tripped over her own feet, and giggled when she straightened back up.

“Hermione?”

She looked up to see Lucius sitting at his desk, his glasses perched on his nose.

“Wow….you look super mega awesome foxy hot in those glasses…” she slurred. Lucius narrowed his eyes, and put down his quill.

“Where have you been all day?” he asked.

“I was at Ha..Herr…Harreeeee…..Pot….*giggle* Pot….Potter’s house.” She said, tittering drunkenly.

“What the hell were you doing there?”

“Playin’ a drinkin’ game.” She replied.

“All day?” he asked incredulously.

“Yup! S’called ‘shoot back cheap liquor until you ca…can’t remember why you’re mad…Good times…” she said.

“Why were you mad?” he asked, narrowing his icy blue eyes at her.

“I can’t remember!” she giggled, as if it were the funniest thing in the world. “Tha’s the whole pur…purpedus…”

“You’re drunk.” Lucius observed. Hermione stared at him for a moment, before giggling again.

“And you’re super sexy. Fancy a fuck?” she asked brazenly. Lucius’ eyes widened slightly at her audacity.

“I should think not!”

“How about a kiss, then?” she said, and puckered her lips comically. Lucius raised a flaxen eyebrow.

“No.”

Hermione’s shoulders slumped, and she went from giggly to morose in a matter of seconds.

“Ron was right…” she sighed. “I’m hideous. No man would ever want me…” And then she burst into tears. Lucius stood awkwardly for a moment, before taking off his glasses and approaching the sobbing witch.

“It’s not that you’re hideous, Hermione….” He started uncomfortably. Her sobs turned to sniffles as she looked up at him, her lower lip still trembling. “You’re intoxicated, and I don’t want to take advantage of that.” He said, a little more confident in his answer.

“S-so….if I approached you with the same offer, but I was s-sober, would you accept?” she asked. He took a half-step back, not believing his ears. Did she know what she was offering? Certainly he would accept! He’d be a fool not to accept the advances of a lovely, warm, intelligent creature such as Hermione. He’d been trying to deny his attraction, if only physical, for a while, but this was too much to hope for.

“I wouldn’t know what I’d say unless you did it.” He said slyly. Hermione stepped towards him, and wrapped her arms around his waist, feeling the way he stiffened slightly beneath her. She laid her head on his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat.

“I’ve liked you for a while. Not so much as a person…you can be a real fuck-tard sometimes…but I’ve been physically attracted to you for a long time. You’re so….masculine. And you have a nice arse.”

He jumped back when he felt prying fingers at his bottom.

“Enough of that, little Enchantress!” he said, and she giggled again.

“Will you take me to bed?” she asked him, looking up at him with her bleary eyes.

“I thought I said no to that…” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“No…I…don’t think I can g-get up the stairs…” she slurred softly. “I think I might sp…splish…splinsh…” she said. Lucius pursed his lips for a moment, before reaching out and pulling her flush against him, and Apparating upstairs. He landed in her sitting room, and had to hold her up when her legs gave way under her. She stepped back away from him, and smoothed the front of her robes. She started towards her bedroom, but turned when she reached the door.

“I’m worried about Harry…” she said.

“Why’s that?” he inquired.

“I usually sp-*hic*spend the night with him after we drink….but I wanted to c-come home so you didn’t worry. Will…will you go check on him?” she asked. Lucius growled softly.

“I am no one’s baby sitter. Mr. Potter is a grown man who is more than capable of getting drunk by himself.” He said stubbornly. Hermione frowned, and Lucius hated the sad way her eyes dulled.

“I guess I’ll check on him in the morning…” she said, and pouted at him. Her lower lip quivered, and he growled again.

“Fine!” he hissed. She smiled, and went back to him, leaning up on her tippy-toes to give him a peck on the cheek.

“You’re really a big ol’ marshmallow…” she giggled.

“The hell with that…” Lucius snapped.

“Oh! You might need to know where he lives…” she said. “You can use the Floo, but you have to say ‘Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.’” She said, trying to enunciate the address. Lucius looked at her for a moment. She really was drunk out of her mind. She was giving him, Lucius Malfoy, the personal home address for one Harry Potter. That place was Unplottable, and protected with wards older than he was. Crazy bint.

“All right…I’ll check on your bespectacled friend. You go to bed.” He said, and gently steered her towards her room.

“Kay…night.”

~~

Lucius stepped carefully through the house, trying to locate the dark-haired young man so that he could return to his abode. He couldn’t help but notice the improvements done to Grimmauld Place. He’d once visited Mr. and Mrs. Black here, and the place had been creepy then. Apparently Mr. Potter had the whole place basically gutted and turned into something much more light and cheery. It was masculine in its decoration, but tastefully so. He had to hand it to the little swot.

A small sound off in a room to his left caught his attention, and he carefully opened the closed door, drawing his wand as he did so. The sight before him unnerved him to his very core.

Harry was sitting in a corner, his knees drawn up to his chest, and several empty bottles around him. There was an ashtray at his side, and he was at present taking a long drag from the cigarette in his hand. He held the smoke for a few moments, before exhaling slowly, the plume of smoke leaking through his mouth and nose.

“Mr. Potter?”

Harry looked up with his bleary green eyes, and raised a dark eyebrow.

“Fancy meetin’ you here…care for a smoke?” he asked, holding up a half-full packet of cigarettes.

“No thank you, Mr. Potter.” Lucius said softly, spooked at Harry’s lack of reaction to his presence. “What are you doing here tonight?”

“Drinkin’ and smokin’. S’how I relax. Mione sometimes drinks with me if her demons get to be a little hard to carry…she doesn’t smoke, though.” He said, and took another drag of his cigarette. “Helps me forget things for a while.”

“Forget what things, Mr. Potter?” Lucius asked, approaching the boy-who-lived-and-conquered.

“Everything. My past, my present, and my bleak future. I have no idea what I want to do. You know, after I defeated Moldyfuck, I thought I wanted to be an Auror. But…I…I just don’t want to fight anymore. My childhood is gone. An’ everyone expects me to keep bein’ this great hero…and…I’m tired, ya know? I want to be normal. I want to be able to go shopping without everyone wanting to touch me like I’m some kind of god. Sometimes…I just wish I could join my parents. At least they get peace.” Harry said, tears beginning to leak down his face.

“I’ve even thought about taking my own life.” Harry added. “Although I’d never tell ‘Mione about this. She’d freak out. But I wonder what it would be like to just down a phial of poison and go off to sleep, and never wake up. It seems so alluring some days.”

Lucius was quite shocked, to be honest. He’d always seen Harry Potter as an arrogant little prick who thought he could save the world. But in the few words he’d heard the inebriated son of light speak, he’d learned more than he ever thought he needed to know. This young man was haunted more than anyone knew. He wasn’t healing like others were. He was but twenty, and yet he’d seen more horrors than men and women three or four times his age.

Lucius noticed that Harry’s eyes were transfixed on something on the opposite wall, and so he turned his head to follow the young man’s gaze. Those green eyes were resting on a shelf on the wall, a few trinkets put there for decoration. But what seemed to get the most attention was a small black vial.

“What is that, Mr. Potter?” Lucius asked. Harry turned his gaze back to Lucius, and gave a sad smile.

“It’s Kiss of Death.” Harry said calmly. “I keep it there just in case.” He added. Lucius’ eyebrows furrowed. Kiss of Death was the most powerful poison on the market. Death was gentle but quick, and there was no antidote.

“I don’t think you should be alone tonight, Mr. Potter. Hermione would gut me like a fish if I left you in this state.”

Harry locked eyes with Lucius, as if looking for something. “Hermione really likes you. She talks about you all the time. Seems to think that you’ve changed. She says you’re still an arrogant prick, but you’re not evil anymore. She says that Daisy softened you up like butter in the middle of an oven.” Harry actually laughed when Lucius scowled. “But maybe you’re right. I probably shouldn’t be alone tonight.” Harry said, his eyes taking one more longing look at the black vial. When he looked back at Lucius, the man’s hand was extended to him. Harry reached out and took Lucius’ hand, and Lucius pulled the young man to his feet. Harry took a last drag from his cigarette, and flicked the butt away, only to have it vanish before it hit the floor. He blew the smoke out away from Lucius, and sighed.

Lucius Apparated them both back to the Manor, and carefully led Harry to one of the guest bedrooms. This was highly awkward, as Harry was piss-drunk and unable to stand on his own. The bedroom was one that was large enough to show off the elegance and richness of the Manor, but not too big that it was gauche. Once Lucius got Harry through the threshold, he let him go, pleased when he stood on his own.

“All right, Mr. Potter. You’re on your own to get ready for bed. You have a bathroom off to the left, I daresay you’ll either throw everything up tonight or piss it out in the morning.” He said, and left the room. Harry stripped down to his boxers and climbed into the large bed. He took off his glasses and laid them on the night stand.

“God…my life just gets weirder and weirder.” He said, spotting a covertly placed Malfoy crest on the wall.

~~

Hermione was hanging halfway off of her bed drunkenly sleeping when she was awakened by a slight noise. She opened her eyes blearily, unsure at first if she’d really heard it. As she closed her eyes again, she heard the sound distinctly. It was a cry. She pushed her covers back and dragged herself out of the bed.

“Damn it…” she groaned, and opened the door to her bedroom. She went out into the hall, listening again. The sound was coming from Daisy’s room, so she rubbed her eyes sleepily as she approached the suite. She opened the door, and heard another cry. She hurried to Daisy’s bedroom, and threw open the door. Daisy was thrashing about on the bed, crying loudly.

“Mama! Daddy! Don’t leave me…” she sobbed. Hermione sobered up immediately, and was at Daisy’s bedside in a moment.

“Daisy…” she said, and scooped the flailing girl into her arms. “Daisy!” she said a little louder. Daisy opened her eyes and sat up with a gasp, her breath coming in labored puffs. Daisy looked at Hermione, her eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry…” she cried. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” Hermione drew Daisy close to her, shushing her gently.

“It’s okay, Daisy. It’s okay, little one.” Hermione cooed softly, cuddling the young girl gingerly.

“Don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone.” Daisy cried, burrowing close to Hermione. Hermione climbed up onto the bed with Daisy, and held her.

“I’m here, Daisy, I’m here.” She said. “Do you have nightmares often, ducky?” she asked. Daisy nodded against Hermione’s chest.

“I have them every night.” She said. “And I can’t take Dreamless Sleep, because my magic messes with the ingredients. I don’t want to see it anymore…Wasn’t it enough that I had to live through it? Why do I have to relive it every night, Hermione? What did I do wrong that I’m being punished like this?” she asked, another wave of tears overtaking her. Hermione was silent, unsure of what to say. She just rocked Daisy gently, making soft shushing sounds ever so often. Daisy was asleep in a matter of minutes. But Hermione didn’t want to leave the poor girl alone, so she gently pried herself out from under her, and went to the other side of the bed, climbing on behind Daisy and situating herself under the covers with her. It was a little awkward, but Daisy had looked so tired, and Hermione’s presence seemed to calm her profoundly.

And besides, Hermione had become quite attached to this little girl.

~~

Rita Skeeter had long enjoyed her job. She rather enjoyed the power she held over people. Her position at the Prophet had been secured by basically throwing everyone in her way under the bus. She’d stomped on many feet and hands during her climb to the top, but she had kept those people at bay with her sharp quill. She had never been afraid to report anything she felt worthy to print.

At present she was relaxing in a luxurious hot bath filled with bubbles. Her private sanctuary was her bathroom, done in brilliant white and gold, and was the only place in her flat that was anything other than plain. Her soak was interrupted by a loud pecking at her bathroom window. She cursed loudly, but tried to ignore the tapping bird.

The owl continued to peck angrily at her window until she finally stood from her hot bath. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself, before going to the window and wrenching it open. The owl flew into her bathroom and landed on her counter, sticking out its leg for her to receive her missive. She none-too-gently removed the letter, and shooed the bird away without a treat. The owl, not one to be cheated out of one of its delights, promptly left a nice dollop of something extra in her bathwater.

She snarled at the bird’s antic, but opened her letter first.

Miss Skeeter

Due to charges being pressed against you, you will be required to present yourself to the Department of Media Ethics this next Thursday at noon. Until then you are not to write another article for your place of employment, the Prophet. A letter has been sent to your editor relieving you of your duties pending an investigation into these rumors.

Rupert Hornsby, Secretary of the Department of Media Ethics

Rita gave an angry screech and balled up the note, throwing it into a corner and stepping distractedly back into her cooling bath. A foul scent hit her nose, and she looked down to see a clump of birdie poop floating in her water.

Her screech could be heard all over the flat building.

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Ew.

Ah, Drunken Hermione. And Drunken Harry, bless him. I wonder how he'll react to waking up in a strange house after being drunk? This can only end badly! Skeeter is about to get burned by the Ministry. Yayness.

My phrase for the day is: Super mega awesome foxy hot. That is all.

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