Chain of Drabbles

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Title: Chain of memories? No! Chain of Drabbles!

Pairing for the chapter: Harry/Dean Thomas

Warnings: none

Prompt: "Why's there paint on my arse?"

Harry groaned as the sunlight hit his face, and tried to hide under the blankets. Only there were no blankets, there was an arm, and a leg... and... ugh! What was that smell? Yeah, definitely Dean's morning breath! Yuck! Not that his was much better, it tasted like a rat had died in his mouth, or like Ron's old smelly socks.

He tried opening his eyes, only for that blinding headache from hangover to hit him with all the gracefulness and subtlety of a brick to the head. Followed by debris. Made of other bricks instead of plaster. How much had they drank? And what? Harry could only remember the firewhisky and their attempts to make muggle drinks with it. He honestly wasn't sure if it had worked or not. He could not remember.

There was a mumble on his side, and then a snicker coming from Neville's bed. And it was only then that Harry noticed a breeze where there wasn't supposed to be one!

"Dean?" He whispered as loudly as he dared.

"Yesh?" Came the sleepy reply.

"'M I nekid?"

"Nuu..."

"kays..." and he turned around on the bed, effectively hiding his front, but showing his behind. His decidedly naked behind. His naked and wet behind.

"Dean?"

"Wha?"

"Why's there paint in my arse?" Harry asked, it came out much more lucid than he was feeling.

"I pain'ed? Ma'be?"

And then Neville and Ron burst into snickers. It was the loudest snickers Harry had ever heard!

"Wha'di'ya pain'?" Harry groaned.

"Dunno, go ba'ta shleep, Ha'ry" Dean mumbled, flinging an arm over Harry and drawing him near.

It was only when they woke up properly that Harry could inspect the 'damage', to be honest he really didn't mind, and the complain was only a token protest to the colours. Oh no, Harry did not mind having 'property of Dean Thomas' painted on his arse, not at all!