Highly Spirited

Summary: Chapter 7: Leaving, Now Leave --------- The Guests Try to Leave
Warning(s): See Chapter 1 for warnings and disclaimer. I still don’t own anything.

Chapter 7 – Leaving, Now Leave

The next morning, Mrs. Dumbledore was sitting in her usual spot in her room as her husband glided in through the door. “Good morning, Percival darling!*” She stood and greeted him with an air kiss to each cheek.

“Good morning, Kendra. Well, our son is an idiot!”* Mr. Dumbledore announced as if he had just had an epiphany. His pale face shone brightly in the morning light.

Mrs. Dumbledore chuckled. “We've known that for years, haven't we, darling?”*

“Well, this time he has surpassed himself. The ghosts are furious!”* He began to pace a little.

“Why?”* asked Mrs. Dumbledore, knowing her husband was just looking for a reason to continue his rant.

“Well, they've heard that that Lucius Malfoy fellow is going to move the castle to Orlando!”*

“Oh, how nice! All that sunshine and all those funny cartoon animals!” Mrs. Dumbledore stated dreamily.

“No respectable ghost would live in Florida!*” yelled the elder Dumbledore, shocked his wife would even consider this appalling turn of events. “What would they do there? Other than make new ghosts from scaring all the geriatrics there? I tell you, they do not want that sort of company. Old, dead, Americans…pshh…”

Mrs. Dumbledore took a sip of sherry, leaving her coral poppy lipstick print behind on it as he rambled. He shook his head. “If only I hadn’t died,*” he moaned.

“Well, you did die, didn’t you, darling? So what do you want to do about it?”* She was already slurring a bit. It looked to be another fine, tipsy day.

“It’s out of my hands,” he said. “They won’t listen to me anymore. They’re going to give those guests exactly what they came here for,”* he said with a hint of humor lacing his voice.

“Serve ‘em right,”* she agreed and finished her glass.

--

Back in Harry and Draco’s room, Harry opened his eyes carefully. He stared at the ceiling for moment, trying to figure out where he was. Feeling the bottle still in his hand, he raised his arm to bring it over his face. He finally remembered what he had done.

“I'm dead. So this is what it feels like.”* Just then, Draco stepped over him, dropping his silk robe over Harry’s face. He pulled the robe off his eyes as Draco stepped back over him without a sound. “Like a hangover,”* Harry muttered.

He sat himself up and tried to ignore the pounding in his head. Draco must have gotten dressed as Harry could hear the clack of his shoes across the floor as he headed back into the bathroom. Harry stood up and followed him.

Draco was standing in front of the bathroom mirror flossing his teeth mindlessly. Harry walked up behind him and looked over each shoulder trying to get Draco’s attention, eventually waving his hand in front of Draco’s unresponsive face. Draco just kept flossing his bright pearly whites. Certain now that he had passed on, Harry settled back a little to observe Draco as he finished up his morning routine.

“Now that I'm dead, I thought I'd let you know that you're as cold as a Dementor in Azkaban. Yeah, clean those choppers so you can chew up the next jerk that comes along.“* Harry felt good for finally letting out some of the anger that had built up inside him over the years.

Suddenly, Draco turned around and slapped Harry’s face sharply and stepped past him.

“I'm not dead?“* Harry asked rubbing his jaw in shock.

“No, but if I were you, I wouldn't make any long term plans!”* Draco huffed and walked out of the bathroom.

Draco stopped a few steps away and turned. “Great, Harry, now I’ve got a massive migraine coming on. I’ll bet my B-levels are way down.”* Draco took a big swig from a bottle that Harry just noticed in his hands.

“Uh, Draco,” he tried to interrupt him. He staggered over to the blond. “Draco, let me see that bottle,*” he requested. Draco turned his shoulder away from him. Harry moved forward and took the bottle. Draco glared at him and picked up a small suitcase.

“Get packed, Harry,*” Draco snipped as he opened the door and walked out.

Harry looked down at the bottle and confirmed his suspicions. “Draco, you just took almost half a bottle of ‘Tension Ease’,” Harry yelled. Draco just waved him off.

---
Out in the bus, the other passengers were waiting for the remaining stragglers. Hagrid was trying to make conversation. “So, lass, what did you have for breakfast then?*”

The oldest of the Weasley children grimaced, “I don’t know. Some bloody fish.*” She wrinkled her petite nose in disgust.

Hagrid gave a faint smile, “Ah, that’s a nice change, then.*”

---

Draco had gone into the Great Hall and started up the Floo to fire-call his father. The potion had begun to make him a tad relaxed.

“Daddy,” he whined, “This place is a nightmare. A nightmare,” he repeated, slurring his words. “What? Oh, of course I sound off. I’m so depressed. Everybody hates me. And last night, Harry slept on the floor, and when he woke up, he said he was dead and that I was like a Dementor. He hates me.”* Draco slid to the floor just as Bill Weasley walked into the hallway. Draco lay there, with his head in the Floo, crying. “It’s all your fault, daddy. I hate you…” Draco rolled out of the hearth and lay face up on the floor.

Bill knelt beside him. “Mr. Potter, are you ok?*” Draco looked up at Bill, blue-grey eyes filled with tears. “Do you think I’m colder than a Dementor?” Bill reached up to feel Draco’s forehead. Not feeling any sort of fever, Bill tried to reassure Draco as he pulled him up into a sitting position.

“Actually, Dementors are given a bad rap. They may be cold and scary to us, but to their own kind, they are quite affectionate.”

“Bleah…that’s disgusting,” Draco’s slurred, putting his arms around Bill’s neck as they both stood.

Bill laughed. “Not to other Dementors, it’s not. I imagine our couplings seem quite ridiculous to other species.”

Draco stumbled a bit and held onto Bill tightly. “Harry and I never couple anymore,” he whined, “He’s too insi..insid..sinsip..dull...”

Bill blinked. “TMI”, he mumbled. Without warning, Draco suddenly latched onto Bill’s mouth. Bill’s knees collapsed under him at the sudden onslaught. It was very reminiscent of a Dementor’s kiss as Draco snogged the breath out of Bill.

In another sudden move, Draco stood up and moved back. He slapped Bill hard across the face. “How dare you!*” He grabbed his bag and headed off, shouting, “Harry!”

Bill sheepishly gathered his own luggage and followed him out muttering, “I didn’t…I never meant…Please, don’t tell my wife.”*

“Harry!”*

Faintly, a voice could be heard from the Floo, that is if anyone living was there to hear it, “Draco? Draco, get back on this fire-call, right now! Draco, are you there?” Quietly, the call was disconnected by unseen hands.


---

Meanwhile, Harry had gathered his bags and headed out down a separate corridor. He walked through a seemingly deserted room with a big bay window with stone window seats, but little in the way of other furnishings. He heard a hushed muttering. “Dear Merlin, get me out of this, whatever the price. Just get me away from here.”

Harry stopped as he saw the apparition of Severus Snape sitting by the window in robes that had been out of style for at least half a century, perhaps longer. His long black hair was plaited and tied with a black silk ribbon

Harry approached him and Severus stood. “You’re real,” Harry said, incredulously. “I mean…you’re a real ghost.*” He reached out to touch Severus and his hand went right through the image before him although he felt an odd tingle that surged through his magical core.

“Yes, I believe that’s obvious,” Severus said flatly, but he was blinking as if surprised by something.

Harry suppressed a chuckle. “I suppose so,” he agreed.

Severus shifted, apparently a trifle uncomfortable. “I suppose I should thank you for last night.”

Harry nodded as he stared at Severus dark, hypnotic gaze. “Really, it was nothing.” He paused for a moment with a confused look on his face. “Um…what did I do?*”

“You gave me my first moment of peace in fifty years. I am indebted to you, sir.”* Severus nodded formally. He leaned forward towards Harry.

Harry backed away, suddenly worried. “It was nothing, really. And you don’t have to call me sir, sir.”*

“Then what should I call you?*” Severus asked, advancing again.

“Um, er, I uh…How about Harry?*” he stammered, backing away, again.

“Fine, Sir Harry,*” Severus said as he cornered Harry. Harry ducked under his arm and across to the other side of the room.

“Really…it’s on me. We’re square. No debts…nothing,”* Harry garbled inarticulately.

Severus stared at him intently which made Harry nervous.

“Um…nice robes,” Harry said.

“They are my bonding robes,” Severus explained, walking towards him again, this time slower. “Today is my wedding day. And tonight, he’ll murder me.”* Each word was drawled out for dramatic effect.

“You get murdered every night?”* Harry asked.

“Every night until last night,*” Severus confirmed, back to his normal voice, seeing as it had no effect on the other man. But he now had Harry backed up against the opposite wall from before. Harry didn’t seem to notice, but instead asked, “What about tonight?*”

“That depends on you, I believe,*” he answered, looking down on Harry with a piercing gaze.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked in a skittish squeak.

“It’s obvious. Your love broke the curse.”* Severus said with a slight smirk.

Harry’s eyes widened and he ducked away again to the middle of the room. “Oh my…stop right there. You can’t depend on me. No one can depend on me. My husband would never understand. He’d curse my bullocks off!”*

“So, it wasn’t love, then?*” Severus considered this and his shoulders sank a bit.

“Hold on, Severus. I mean, we hardly know each other,*” Harry said, lamely.

“Are you aware of what compatible magical cores are?” Severus asked.

“Um, no? I mean outside of fairy tales, they aren’t real.” Harry answered.

“I see,” Severus said.

---

Draco had been screaming Harry’s name the entire way through the castle and out the door as the staff attempted to assist him onto the carriage. After sitting in the passenger seat for a few minutes, he got restless and leaned over and laid on the horn.

---

From inside the room, Harry heard the blaring sound. “Look, I’ve got to go.*”

“I wish you would not leave,*” Severus said and then turned to look out the window. A strong wind began swirling around the room.

“Look – I can’t…*" Harry could hardly hear himself over the wind.

“You wish to forget me, then?*” Severus said, looking back over his shoulder.

A pain ripped through Harry’s heart. He had a sudden urge to kiss that nose. He honestly answered, “I don’t know what I want.*” Severus tightened his lips and then faded from sight.

---

The wind picked up so hard, it began pushing Harry out of the room, luggage tumbling behind him. It swirled around him and pushed him down the stairs and across the Great Hall. As he reached the entrance, the staff by the door began to feel the wind too. Draco was still laying on the horn from inside the carriage, “HARRY…HARRY…HARRY!” Hagrid did his best to ignore him.

Harry tried to hold on to the awning post but, once outside, the wind swept him up into the air and he went sailing as if he were on an out of control Nimbus 2000. He flew past the carriage and out towards the fields. The staff began shrieking and pointing at him.

Just then, another strong gust ripped the roof of off the carriage. Then it tore off every other piece: the doors, the hood, the boot. The staff tried to race back into the building but the wind prevented them from getting back in the door. The passengers watched them in concern, except for Draco who was enjoying the sensation of the wind and began tossing everyone’s possession’s out the now missing windows.

“WOOO!” Draco yelled just as another breeze blew off everyone’s clothing, leaving them all in their skivvies, with the exception of Hagrid (for which everyone would have been grateful had they had time to consider it).

Neville, sitting diagonally behind Draco, was left with nothing but his briefs and his priest collar.
Draco looked over the seat at him with a big smile, “Oh! So all the snakes weren't driven out of Ireland.*”

Brother Neville quickly covered himself when he realized Draco was looking at his crotch, ”What?*” he squeaked out.

“Snakes. ha ha ha ha.*” Draco laughed hysterically to himself as no one else seemed to think it was particularly funny.

Neville decided to remove his collar. He was feeling a mite warm even with all the wind.

Then lighting struck nearby and rain began to pour on them. Everyone ran for cover except for Draco and Luna. They started to dance in the rain together. The held hands and spun each other in circles.

Suddenly, the sun could be seen over the field and, through the water, a multitude of colors appeared.

Luna stopped and turned Draco around. She pointed. “Look! A double rainbow.”

Draco stopped and gaped at it, “Oh wow!! That’s a full-on, across the sky, double rainbow.”

“It’s so pretty,” Luna whispered.

Draco hugged her and laid his head on her shoulder. “What does it mean?” he sobbed suddenly. Minerva stepped up and led the two inside.

---

Nearby, Harry found himself in a tree, soaked and hanging off a very large, and somewhat high, branch. Lightening struck nearby and he was knocked to the ground. At least it wasn’t raining at that spot and the wind had died down. A ray of sun shone down on him.

Harry was trying to get his bearings when he heard an odd voice. “’Ellooo? Hoo-You be Harry?”

‘Who’s that?” Harry asked spinning around. There was no one to be seen.

“It’s me. Are you being Harry?” The voice had an eerie echo. Harry searched across the seemingly empty field. He only spotted one living creature: a snowy white owl that was watching him from branch in the next tree over.

Feeling ridiculous, he approached the bird. “Did you say something?*” Harry asked. The owl blinked. “Of course not. I must be crazy,*” Harry muttered, looking around.

“Hoo-You are,” the voice said. Harry snapped his back at the bird. He noticed it nodding.

“You are talking, aren’t you?” Bronze eyes blinked at him. After a few moments of no other response, Harry thought, ‘I really need to stop drinking.’ Hangovers seemed to last longer now that he was older.

Harry cleaned out his ears with his pinky and then looked around. They were a fair distance away from the castle but he could see the outline against the horizon. “Wonder where I am?”

“What an idiot,” the voice said. Harry spun on the owl who had pointedly turned away and began whistling the theme from the “Andy Griffith Show”. Harry had been in America long enough to recognize it.

“It was you, you gitty little bird. Owls don’t whistle, they hoot.”

The owl looked at him again and finally gave in. “Well, I don’t give a hoot.” He paused as Harry made a disgusted face at the bird’s quip. “Fine, fine. Aren’t you the genius? Can’t see what the man wants with you, but follow me.” The owl took off in a low, slow flight and Harry trailed after it.

“Hey, how come you know Andy Griffith?” Harry asked.

“The Dumbledores are too cheap for cable so it’s some of the only crappy TV programming we get!” the owl answered in a snit.

Harry decided not to ask any more questions. That was one touchy bird.


---

The rest of the guests gathered back in the Great Hall, drenched and cold. Several people found odd items to cover themselves with like the dusty old tapestry that Neville strapped over one shoulder and secured with a small piece of rope. Bill had grabbed a loose piece of armour breastplating and slipped it over his head and white boxers. Draco donned a green tablecloth around his waist.

Albus skipped down the stairs, welcoming them back. “Welcome, welcome! Let me be the first to apologize for the lamentable and changeable Irish weather.”*

Bill Weasley’s face had turned a bright pink. “Shut up, Dumbledore. Just Floo or call a cab for us.*”

“Certainly, my good sir,*” he answered cheerfully. He sauntered over to the bar and picked up the phone. He listened for a moment then exclaimed the phone line was dead. Groans could be heard echoing through the Great Hall.

“Never fear. I’m sure we can fire-call the Knight Bus dispatcher,” he reassured them.

Argus coughed and then spoke up as he stood by what was an evidently cold fireplace. “Uh…fire’s gone cold. Won’t get restarted tonight.” Argus said.

The collective groan got louder. Bill stormed over to the phone to confirm its ‘deadness’. He began to pound on the buttons.

Albus closed the door behind them as soon as the last of the staff had gathered a few stray pieces of apparel that had landed nearby and rejoined them. Hagrid was holding up an odd pair of boxers that said, “How Do You Like My Crystal Balls?” Without a word, Trelawney walked over and grabbed them from him. Everyone stared at her.

“They were a gift,” she explained, irritably. She shoved them under her arm.

“They’re quite comfortable,” Luna added. All the eyes widened.

Trelawney coughed. “Luna has a pair too. From a client,” she explained.

Luna smiled dreamily. “I quite enjoy Mr. Gambon’s visits.”

Albus chuckled but then changed the subject. “So, we’re to be together for yet another night. Isn’t that nice?”*

Bill’s face was now red. “Dumbledore, I’d rather walk a mile in this suit of armor then spend another minute in this hellhole. Fleur, kids – we’re leaving!”*

Bill stormed to the front door and opened it wide. As he did so, a bolt of lightning struck him dead center of his metal-clad chest. The force of it threw him across the room and high in the air so he landed in an old candelabra chandelier with a loud clank. Smoke emanated from his entire body.

“Beel! Beel!” Fleur went running up the stairs for a better view as Argus went to grab the chain that would lower the chandelier to the floor.

As he was lowered, the still smoldering man slurred, “I guess we could stay one more night.*”


-----


* Verbatim dialogue from the movie 'High Spirits'. * inside the quotation marks means just that sentence. Outside the quotation marks would indicate everything inside the quotation mark, not just the individual sentence.