The Epitome of Evil

The Epitome of Evil

Harry Potter stared drunkenly at his bottle of Firewhiskey, wondering if he could be bothered getting up and grabbing another bottle from across the Common Room, when his best friend, Ron Weasley suddenly swerved in front of his vision and fainted right on his foot. Well, Harry thought hazily, fate's finally decided to tell me something definite. Don't get anymore flaming Firewhiskey.

It was Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, and the last time Voldemort had tried to take a chunk out of him had been utterly depressing, with neither of them dying and fulfilling the damn Prophecy. From Harry's drunken point of view, it was all Trelawaney's fault, for puking out the Prophecy. In any case, Harry decided, trying to take a swig from his empty bottle, Voldemort was losing his touch.

"Harry," Hermione Granger's voice shot through his drunken haze, her brown eyes inquiring. "Are you drinking again?"

"No..." Harry slurred out, feeling very much like his tongue wasn't really communicating with his brain. "I'm..."he let out an enormous hiccup, and plugged the empty Firewhiskey bottle into his mouth in an attempt to cover his drunkenness.

"Oh honestly," muttered Hermione, reaching forward and snatching the bottle out of his hand. Harry stared mournfully at his empty right hand for a moment, fate obviously really wasn't on his side.

It was then that Harry started bawling, feeling very putout. First off, he wasn't allowed to drink Firewhiskey, and secondly, fate was against him. And Voldemort wasn't really all that evil.

"Harry," Hermione said exasperatedly, "don't you think this is going to far?!"

"NO!" bawled out Harry. "BECAUSE MY LIFE IS A MESS!"

"No kidding," muttered Hermione, surveying the wreckage he had caused from his latest drinking binge. On his foot, Ron let out a huge piggy-snort, and Hermione rolled her eyes. Obviously, Ron had decided to join Harry in the merry-making.

"NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ME!" continued Harry, nearly howling now.

"Harry-"

"I MEAN IF VOLDEMORT WAS JUST EVIL IT WOULD BE SO MUCH EASIER! BUT HE'S BLOODY NOT!"

"What?!"

Several incoherent sounds came out of Harry's mouth, sounds which, to Hermione, sounded like he was about to projectile vomit. Hastily reversing from her friend, and ignoring the fact that they were friends, Hermione let Harry gag noisily. The only saving grace, Hermione supposed, was that no one else was in the Common Room. Except Ron.

"Wishist?" Ron asked, waking up blearily, just as Harry decided to release the contents of his stomach. Vomit flew all over Ron's hair, and down his robes, narrowly missing Hermione's robes. "Oh," Ron mumbled, looking highly uninterested. "Got anymore to go?"

Harry let out a tiny hiccup, before rolling his eyes to Ron. "Nup. Think that's all. I'll wake you if there's more."

"Oh good," Ron said, curling up onto Harry's feet again. "I like having my showers without my clothes."

Hermione stared at the pair of them, before finally giving up, and using the Sobering Spell on them. Instantly, Harry's mind cleared, although, given that Ron was covered in vomit, it was a blessing that he was still asleep.

"Argh..." groaned Harry. "I was enjoying being drunk Hermione...er...what happened to Ron?" Harry added as an after thought, nudging Ron with his toe.

Ignoring his latter question, Hermione rolled her eyes, and answered, "Right. I could see you enjoyed being drunk. It's why you believe that it's terrible that Voldemort's not all that evil. Isn't he bad enough?"

Harry paused in his nudging for a moment and shot Hermione an incredulous stare. "Are you nuts?! Being evil's easy. Just go round killing random people. But Voldemort doesn't even do it himself! He gets him...his...minions to do it for him!"

"Yeah, that really makes a difference Harry," Hermione said sarcastically, absently waving her wand at the mess in the room.

"Well..." Harry muttered, before noticing that Hermione was demolishing a good day's work of drinking. "No! Stop! HERMIONE!" roared Harry, leaping up off his chair and dislodging Ron.

"What?"

"YOU'RE DESTROYING ONE DAY'S WORTH OF GETTING DRUNK!"

"Yes, I've noticed," Hermione replied, looking very pleased at the cleanliness of the room.

"NO! HOW THE BLOODY MERLIN AM I MEANT TO ENJOY THE FACT THAT I WAS SINKING INTO debauchery IF YOU CLEAN IT ALL FLIPPING UP?!"

"So you can revel in the non-evilness of V-V-Voldemort?" Hermione glared at her friend, still out of puking range.

Harry began swearing at the top of his voice; his green eyes alight with anger. "YES! HE'S A BLOODY CUNT!"

They glared at one another, the silence only punctuated by Ron's loud snores, and the dripping of Harry's vomit from Ron.

Finally, Harry muttered sullenly, "Like fourth-year."

Hermione simply glared.

"He let me duel him first. If he really was a flipping evil overlord, he'd have killed me already, but no, he had to just play with me first. You'd think that with an evil aura around him like that he'd be damn hot with the ladies," Harry raved out wildly, hands clutching the arms of his chair. "Instead, I go right into the trap and survive. I BLOODY HELL SURVIVE!" bellowed Harry. "But then again," he added thoughtfully, "I did get to see my mum and dad...BUT THAT MEANS HE KILLED THEM!" Harry roared. "Oh. No. It's okay then," Harry muttered. "He murdered my parents. He's evil..."

Hermione stared speechlessly at Harry, just as he keeled over onto Ron, vomit and all, and started snoring. Her Sobering Spell, Hermione supposed, probably needed some working on.