Not Alone

The teachers of Dean's introductory classes outlined all the work they had to get through that year. He had never been more scared of a workload in his life. They're expecting me to do two years' work in a year - and those are two hard years' work! He felt very bad for the students who had only just completed their O.W.L.s.

He had to learn antidote ingredients by heart, and know how to brew an antidote for any basic sickness, bite, or anything that had to be undone by a potion. Some of this went hand in hand with Herbology, since a lot of the ingredients were magical plants. Some were even Muggle plants Dean had known when he was young.

Professor Freeman was every bit as cold and indifferent as he had been on Dean's first meeting with him. Well, he's still better than Snape or Umbridge...

Transfiguration was going to be about learning how to distinguish what had been changed on a person and return it to what it had been normally, without knowing how he or she looked before. It sounded complicated, and Dean had no doubt he would struggle with it. It had taken an obscene amount of hard work and study to get the Transfiguration O.W.L grade he had needed to study it at N.E.W.T. level.

Katie was easily the nicest of the teachers; she was relaxed and easy, but warned the class she would not tolerate misbehaviour, or any students not applying themselves to the work. The new Charms they would be learning would repair broken bones, heal cuts and abrasions, and help flesh to heal itself and diagnose illnesses or injuries among many other things.

The Dark Arts Retaliation teacher Beth had told him about was somewhat of a shock. American, just like she'd said, but with a beautiful name like September Falls, Dean had expected a woman much like Katie. Instead, he was reminded strongly of Professor McGonagall, with a personality reminiscent of Snape. She was very stern and took her subject very seriously. She gave them a lengthy speech about how important retaliation against Dark Magic was in these times, as if any of them didn't know. The subject would basically teach them how to combine the skills they were learning in their other subjects to decide the best course to take when faced with the effects of Dark Magic.

After the last class, Dean headed straight for the library on level eight to grab a couple of extra Transfiguration books with which to get started over the weekend. He knew it was going to be his worst subject and would need all the information he could get. He had watched Hermione Granger excel in every subject for six years because she never had her nose out of a book, so he figured he'd give it a try.

* ~ *

After spending the best part of Friday evening in the library, Dean headed downstairs with a feeling of dread. He was going to attempt to cook for himself for the first time ever.

He was devoutly thankful that he had spent so long upstairs that the communal kitchen was now empty. He'd quickly looked at a cookery book in the library and decided to start small by having a go at soup.

He set one of the small, battered looking saucepans on the stove, took out his wand, and concentrated. Liquid poured out the end of his wand, splattering into the pan. He lit the ring below the saucepan and continued to stir until the soup was bubbling. He put the fire out and gingerly inserted a spoon into it. Hesitating slightly, he put the spoon into his mouth. He spat the entire mouthful back into the pot, hearing roars of laughter behind him.

Beth, Ernie, and Su were all watching him from the doorway, howling with laughter.

He felt his face grow hot, but laughed with them anyway. "Guess I'll just have to pay to use the dining hall after all!"

Su wiped a tear of mirth from her eye. "Come on, there's a Chinese takeout down the street."

* ~ *

Of course, to get to the Chinese takeout, they had to pass the Dragon's Claw, and since neither magical nor Muggle students can pass a pub on a Friday night without going in...

Dean had no idea that such a variety of drinks existed; all he'd heard of in his time at Hogwarts was Butterbeer, Firewhisky and Gillywater. Dean looked at his drink sceptically. It was a vivid electric blue and fizzed constantly.

"What the hell is this stuff?"

Su laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. "It's a Billywigger! Just drink it!"

He shrugged. Well, college is supposed to be about experimenting. He drank the whole lot in one go. It was very fizzy and sweet, and it tasted slightly of raspberries. Dean turned to tell Su he quite liked it and found himself looking farther down at her than he should have been. He started in fright as he realised he was floating a foot off the ground. As soon as he realised he was levitating, he fell to the ground, his knees buckling.

"Woah... what else have they got?" he asked in amazement.

Dean had seen cocktails at parties his parents threw, and even had a taste of some of them when they hadn't been looking. But these were no margaritas; he had a Jobberknoll Juice and found himself talking garbage rapidly for several minutes before it wore off. He had a Dragon's Blood that made him exhale a huge fireball and scorched a patch on the ceiling, which then repaired itself. He had a Screaming Banshee with the others that caused them all to screech loudly for about ten seconds before it tapered off into hysterical laugher.

The bar was packed wall to wall with witches and wizards, and Dean guessed that they, like his own group, were having a night out before the workload crippled them and put a stop to most of their fun. Dean had been watching Beth surreptitiously since they had gotten there. She was matching the rest of them drink for drink, but was staying pretty quiet unless what she had drank had a magical effect.

The novelty of the cocktails soon wore off and Dean settled on a drink he liked; Firewhiskey and Gillywater. To Dean's untrained senses, it tasted rather like whiskey and lemonade, except the Firewhisky made the drink bright red and it was hotter than normal whiskey. Gillywater tasted almost exactly like Muggle lemonade.

Dean noticed a shower of purple and silver sparks emerge from the crowd at the back of the room. It was Beth trying to attract their attention; she had found seats. She was perched on a stool at a small round table for four people. Dean grabbed the stool nearest her; feeling like his brain was floating around the inside of his skull. His eyes didn't seem to be working too well. "How'd'd you manaage to get a table?"

She looked at him with her serious face and laughing brown eyes. "I had to hex a bloke. He wasn't happy."

Dean laughed, hoping she was joking. Ernie fought his way to them and sat down just as Dean was asking Beth: "Don' they have any mushic in this place?" He frowned slightly, moving his tongue around inside his mouth, trying to figure out what was wrong with it.

Ernie twisted around and pointed to a poster on the wall. It appeared to have brilliantly coloured swirls moving around on it, but Dean wasn't sure if it was because of this new problem with his eyes or because it really was moving. Ernie spoke as he pointed to a point about a foot to one side of the poster. "Yeah, they're having a Muggle music night."

Ernie's voice was croakier than usual, and his speech slower. We haven't drank that much; we couldn't possibly be drunk.

"Oh good! We can show you guysh what proper music is like!" He turned to Beth. "You like Muggle music don'tcha? What d'you listen to?"

He spent several happy, dizzy minutes discussing various Muggle bands with Beth. She had similar taste to his sister, which was not necessarily a good thing. She listened to Alanis Morrisette and the Spice Girls. Dean shuddered and tried not to show it, not realising his every move was exaggerated, thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol in his bloodstream. Beth hit him on the shoulder, or at least tried to; she caught him a glancing blow and he laughed.

"Like anything half decent?" he asked.

"Well, Mr Cool, what do you call 'half decent'?"

"Well, The Smashing Pumpkins, older Blur stuff, maybe even a little Oasis."

"Oasis? They're has-beens, they'll never last!"

They debated right up until the music started, when making themselves heard became impossible. Dean looked around blearily, wondering how Muggle music could be played without electricity. He saw what looked like Muggle D.J. in a raised area in the corner. He had a very glazed expression and Dean decided he was a Muggle under a Memory Charm. There mustn't be enough background magic to affect the electricity around here.

The first song he put on was one of Dean's favourites, and for some reason he was seized with the urge to dance. I need more drinks before I try that...

He asked the others if they wanted anything, but Ernie insisted he was going. Dean watched him go to the bar where he squeezed in beside Su. Dean smiled to himself; wondering if maybe Ernie was nursing a crush on Su already. I'm hardly one to talk, he thought, looking at Beth out of the corner of his eye. She grinned at him and put a cool hand on his wrist, leaning in close to make herself heard. He could smell her musky perfume. "Want to dance?" she yelled in his ear.

He glanced at the middle of the room that had been cleared for dancing. Where moments ago there had been quite a bit of open space, there were now two dozen people dancing enthusiastically. Oh well, at least I won't be conspicuous. He nodded at Beth and took her hand so as not to lose her in the crowd. They didn't stray too far from the table for fear of losing it to other people.

The song changed to one of Dean's favourites from a couple of years back, so he stayed where he was, moving awkwardly on the dance floor, getting elbowed in the back by the dancers around him. He didn't leave the dance floor until he saw Ernie return with the drinks. Instead of the Firewhisky and Gillywater he'd ordered, he had a glass full of glittering silver liquid with a matching shimmering mist on the surface. It looked a lot like the Draught of Peace.

Ernie laughed at the scandalised look on his face. "Just drink it mate - Su swears you'll like it."

Dean was still sceptical, so he left it where it was for now and got himself a real drink.

They sat for another half an hour, occasionally getting up to dance to songs they liked. Ernie and Su even admitted they quite liked some of it. Dean had four more Firewhisky and Gillywaters in that half an hour and was starting to feel quite sleepy, as well as light-headed. So this is what being drunk feels like... like you've got a head full of cotton wool and your feet are only loosely attached to your legs...

When his favourite song from the summer after fourth year (Supergrass' Alright) came on, he jumped to his feet and insisted they all dance. Before they took to the floor, he lifted the glass of liquid silver Ernie had brought him and drained it in one swallow.

By the time the song had hit its first chorus a feeling of complete and utter joy swept through Dean, making him feel like his very blood was fizzing. He couldn't imagine being any happier than he was at that moment. He was among friends, he had a girl with him he liked a lot, he was in Healing College when he had been sure there was no hope and there was great music playing.

When the song ended Dean became aware that the D.J. was doing the clichéd bit of putting in a section of slow dancing songs that every D.J. insisted on doing. Usually he despised this part, but now in his euphoria he stretched out a hand to Beth, despite a little voice from the back of his brain reminding him that he hated this particular song.

Beth grinned at him, took his hand and flung her other arm around his neck. She was leaning on him quite heavily and he was nervous he'd fall over he struggled to keep his feet. He saw Ernie over his shoulder actually waltzing with Su, who looked highly amused at the stiff way Ernie was dancing. Dean threw back his head and laughed.

When he looked down again he found himself looking straight into Beth's huge eyes. She had looked up to see what he was laughing at. Their noses were bare millimetres from touching. All laughter left Dean and the sound and air seemed to vanish from the room. The whole world consisted of the two of them. For what felt like several long hours, he stared into her eyes...

Then some drunken idiot behind her fell over and poked an elbow hard into her back as he fell. Beth lurched forward and banged her head hard against Dean's nose. Eyes burning, he still managed to hold on to her to keep her from falling. The moment lost, they grinned sheepishly at each other then made their way back to their seats.

* ~ *

Dean finally got some Chinese food when they left the Dragon's Claw at half past eleven. The night air had intensified the effects of the alcohol, and he felt just enough to know that he was going to be bloody sorry he had drank so much in the morning.

They wandered back to St Mungo's, staggering into each other occasionally. Dean was eating spring rolls out of a bag and the others had just opted for chips. They fell through the window of Purge and Dowse, the feeling of stepping through a sheet of cold water giving Dean an unpleasant jolt in his cosy alcoholic haze.

It took Beth several tries to touch her wand to the right place on the wall to open the lift, but she did get it eventually. Dean and Beth left Su and Ernie at their rooms, and Dean walked Beth on to her own door. Again, she had trouble pointing her wand right. Dean took out his own wand and unlocked the door. She smiled at him gratefully and leaned close to him, gripping his arm in both hands and giggling. "I've never been this drunk! I can't handle alcehol, never could!"

Dean looked at her, surprised. "Then why did you drink so much tonight?"

She shrugged. "Didn't want to look like a sad cow."

Dean shook his head wonderingly. "You didn't need to do that. I wouldn't have cared if you couldn't keep up with us drink for drink!"

She tilted her head and looked up at him. "Really?"

He grinned at her. "Yeah. I have a feeling I'll be swearing off it myself tomorrow." He winced, touching his temple with his free hand. "At least no one had a camera to get pictures of us making fools of ourselves."

She looked at him steadily, a playful look in her eyes. "Oh, there were moments I'd like pictures of."

"Like what? The two of us teaching the whole room the Macarena?"

She giggled. "No... more like us dancing to 'I Swear'."

Dean's mouth was suddenly very dry. He swallowed hard. "Does your back hurt where that guy hit you?"

"No, I hardly felt it."

She was standing on her tiptoes, bringing herself up almost to his height. "I was just pissed off that he spoiled the mood."

Dean took the hint. He kissed her. Her warm mouth was all he was aware of until he felt her arms slide around his neck. He wrapped his own arms around her waist and pulled her in close.

He had no idea how much time passed before he pulled away. She was running her hands through the hair on the back of his head. He loved the feeling of her fingers on his skin.

She let her arms slide down until she had both palms on his chest. "I'm meeting Ciara tomorrow, my friend who's studying languages. Want to come with me?"

Dean's heart sank a little. "I'd love to, but I'm meeting Seamus and Lee tomorrow."

She smiled sadly. "Well, maybe we could all meet up for dinner later. I think we're allowed to bring guests in here."

"That would be cool."

He leaned down and kissed her again on the lips, feeling very giddy and happy. "I'll see you in the morning."

When Dean finally got his own door open and crawled into bed he was sure he would be able to sleep when the room stopped spinning.