Unforseen Alliance

The road wound this way and that, and other cars flew past the dark green Pontiac Harry was driving. He sighed as a box of tissues bounced off the side of his head.

"Girls! I'm trying to drive here!"

A quick spell had made room for all four of them in the back seat. However, squeezing four siblings into the back of a car, no matter how much you expanded it, was asking for disaster. The war raged on:

"Brittany, I swear to Merlin if you don't quit singing I'll hex you! Do you have any idea how annoying that is?!"

"Daaaad! Delia took my Beater's bat! Tell her to give it back! Tell her!"

Brittany promptly burst into tears. "'Delia hit me with the bat, Daddy!"

"You're such a baby. Dad, she wouldn't stop! It was horrible!"

"'Delia, that is unacceptable. You do not hit your younger sister with a Beater's bat. Give it back to Asia. Brittany, stop crying. She barely grazed you with it. Asia, don't whine, you have your bat," Harry rambled it all off in a strict parental tone, causing silence to reign over the back seat. Harry wondered how long it would last.

He was grateful that Kimberly was perched quietly in the corner with a book on unicorns. The girl had taken to animals spectacularly; Harry couldn't help but think that she and Hagrid would have gotten on very well. Harry winced inwardly at the hurt that thought caused him. Kimberley would never get to meet Hagrid; none of them would. Just as none of them would ever meet Sirius, never lay eyes on Arthur Weasley or hear the strict but caring tones of Minerva McGonagall in Transfiguration class.

He chanced a glance over at the passenger seat at Draco. Who was trying to pretend he hadn't just witnessed Harry being fatherly, but a small amused smile was pulling at the corners of his mouth. He always seemed to find Harry's parental status entertaining.

Harry wasn't quite sure what had prompted him to invite the ex-Slytherin along on their outing. Saturday morning, two weeks after the Quidditch game and Harry's work load had finally started to decrease. The girls had been lounging about the living room in various states of boredom. Harry had had his fill of their complaints and finally suggested that they all go out for a ride around the back-roads. With the thought of how good Draco was with the girls, and the fact that Harry had managed to get him on Floo, he'd invited him along. The girls were rowdy, but so far it was going well.

"What are you smiling at?" Harry shot at him; his voice still in a tone of disciplinarian.

"You," the blond shot back. He didn't seem at all fazed. But in a split-second he seemed to catch himself, though from what Harry couldn't figure, and his eyes flicked out the window, studying the road signs. They seized on something, and widened. It was then Harry realized he should be watching the road and snapped his head forward. But not before he could miss the slow mischievous smirk spread over Draco's face.

"Oh, how convenient," he said nonchalantly. "They're holding a fair a few miles away from here. Perhaps we should go?"

"A fair?" said Harry blankly; wondering what was going through the blond's mind.

"Yes, a fair. You know with carnival games, Ferris wheels and...cotton candy."

He had barely finished his statement before the girls started in, jumping on the end of his words.

"Daddy! Can we go? Can we?"

"A fair! I want to go! I want to ride the whirly-twirly ride!"

"I wanna go to the fair! Let's go, Daddy!"

"Come on, Dad. We never do anything fun! Can we go, please? Please?"

Harry scowled over at Draco who was giving him a mock-pleading face.

"Please, Daddy?" crooned the blond man, humor laced in his voice.

Harry caved. He hit the turn signal rather roughly and turned onto the exit, the car speeding by a large sign that stated the fair was three miles in that direction. The back seat of the car exploded in cheers and in the passenger seat Draco was smirking in a very self-satisfied manner.

Harry braced himself.

In another five minutes the six of them were standing in the long line, the girls shifting restlessly.

"This is your fault," he muttered at Draco, accompanied by a half-hearted glare.

"I know," said Draco cheerfully, looking pleased that he'd managed to rile Harry to this extent.

The line seemed to drag on forever but finally they had paid and were standing on the inside of the gates, gazing around. Before the girls could pull them off anywhere he herded them off to the side, away from the bustling crowds of people.

"Now listen here you four, I meant to tell you this in the car. No. Magic. None, don't talk about it, don't think about it, and definitely," he added, letting his gaze linger on Cordelia who was the most well versed in actually performing a spell. "Don't do it. Understood?"

They all nodded in understanding. This was a Muggle fair, and magic had no place. Harry let out a heavy breath.

"Now," Draco broke in. "Where would you like to go first?"

The two adults were instantly assaulted by four different requests. For the sake of sanity, they split up into two groups. Harry took Cordelia (much to her displeasure) and Asia and they left for the Tilt-A-Whirl, and Draco headed off in the direction of the carousel with Brittany and Kimberly.

The day seemed to go on forever, into the warm and careful dusk of summer. It was almost eight when the six of them met up at the brightly lit Ferris wheel. They decided on one last ride. Cordelia, Asia, and Brittany wanted to get on together, which Harry grudgingly allowed. Kimberly agreed to ride with Draco, and Harry was left with the ridiculously large teddy bear that Draco had won for Brittany. Getting on last, he was on a seat directly below Draco and Kimberly. As the giant wheel turned, it stopped near the top to let on new passengers. Harry swallowed and tired not to glance over the side. He didn't mind the things that much...until they stopped and his seat was left swaying precariously in the wind. Then, his ears perked up, as words floated down from above.

"Mr. Draco," said Kimberley. "You like wizards, right?"

"Yes..." Draco replied, waiting for the catch.

"W-well...do you like Daddy?"

In the short silence that followed, Harry felt warmth creep up his face and he wished desperately he could see Draco's face. He listened intently for the response.

"I like your father very much, he's a wonderful friend," he said, and Harry could almost hear the smirk in his voice. "But Harry doesn't fancy men in that way."

"Oh," said Kimberley, and Harry was horrified to hear disappointment in her voice. "B-but, what if he did, though?"

Draco sighed, something Harry didn't hear. "He wouldn't, and so it doesn't matter."

Kimberley was quiet after that, and the ride continued. Throughout it all, the only thing that Harry could think of was how Draco had never really answered his daughter's question. That and why on earth he cared.

****

That night when they returned home, it was going on nine. Harry tucked the girls into bed and collapsed onto his sofa with a bottle of Fire Whiskey. He sipped, and watched whatever stupid show was on the television. It was just as he was beginning to relax and forget what he'd heard that day, that there were three militant sounding knocks at his door.

Frowning, Harry stood and answered the door, frowning even more in confusion when he found himself face to face with a livid looking Hermione.

"Um...something wrong?" he asked.

"Oh I don't know, Harry," she hissed. Harry winced and held the door open for her to come in. She looked the same as she did the many times before when she had been about to blow up at him. He didn't want her disturbing the neighbors. "Perhaps it's just that you took my daughters somewhere without telling me, no plans, and no forethought. Did you ever think that I may have wanted to speak with them? You don't just leave without telling me where you're taking them, Harry!"

"I don't see why not," Harry fired back, used to this but still feeling awkward. "We agreed that I had them on the weekends. They're my daughters too. I don't have to get your permission to take them on a drive."

"You took them on a drive? You took them on a drive for six and a half hours?"

"Well, no," Harry began, and now he looked away. "Draco came with us and we wound up going to the fair."

"The fair? Well I supp-wait. Draco Malfoy?" Hermoine said with a sharp edge in her tone.

"You know of another?" Harry asked, trying to keep the mood light; then he relented. "He's a friend, 'Mione, and he's good with them."

Hermione lifted her chin defiantly. "Harry, I don't care what you do with your free time anymore. But I will thank you to keep my children away from a man who spent his entire childhood in a Death Eater household, attempting to make the lives of Muggle-borns, like their own mother, miserable. It's just unacceptable."

Her eyes narrowed sharply, in the way they did when she was about to deliver the final blow. Harry took a deep breath.

"Actually, come to think of it, while you keep his company, I'm not sure I want to allow you to see the girls. Today proves that your reckless behavior is out of control and I will not tolerate it. Don't you remember Harry, the hell he put me through for being what I am. I do not want someone like that around my girls."

Harry's head was spinning. What the bloody hell had gotten into her? Was she really that bitter about something that happened so long ago? It was ridiculous...Draco was just a person, surely the situation didn't merit this much....

But it seemed it did, because Hermione was striding briskly through the hallway toward the girls' room. The realization of it all hit Harry and it sparked him into action, he followed after her.

"Hermione, stop. There's no reason to wake them now, you can pick them up tomorrow. You're being unreasonable," he whispered harshly, grabbing his ex-wife by the upper arm as she reached the door to Asia and Kimberly's bedroom.

Hermione fixed him with a cold gaze and wretched her arm from his grasp. "I'm taking my daughters home," she hissed, and stormed into the room.

Harry shut his eyes, feeling at a complete loss of what to do. Hermione had turned the lights on with a fast mutter of 'Lumos' and was now shaking Asia awake almost strictly, in a way only Hermione could do.

Asia rubbed blearily at her eyes, looking befuddled as Hermione moved to Kimberly's bed.

"Get dressed," Hermione ordered militantly and brushed past Harry to the other bedroom.

Kimberly climbed out of her bed and carefully pulled the sheets and covers up over the pillows, making her bed neatly. Asia simply hopped out of her bed and began rummaging through her dresser. Instead of dressing though, Kimberly shuffled over to Harry and looked up at him curiously.

"Daddy?"

Harry sighed, squatting down in front of her. "Yes, Love?"

"I don't understand," she said in the light clear voice of a child just looking for clear answers.

Asia had stopped her dressing midway into a pair of shorts to gaze at her father inquisitively as well. Harry didn't know what to say to them. He just shook his head helplessly. Then, he pulled Kimberly into a hug, motioning Asia over as well.

"I'll see you soon, okay?" he muttered to them, trying to convince himself as well. He knew at this point there was no way he could argue with Hermione. He wasn't in his sanest states at the moment, and he was doing his best not show his panic. He kept telling himself that they could sort this out.

"What's going on, Dad?" asked Cordelia, entering the room fully dressed, pulling Brittany by the hand.

Harry didn't see any reason to lie to them.

"Your mum doesn't want you around Draco or around me while I'm friends with Draco. She's taking you home."

"I don't understand," Cordelia said, her brow furrowing as she unknowingly mimicked the words of her younger sister.

"I don't either," said Harry in a defeated tone. He stood up, and instead took a seat on the end of Asia's unmade bed.

Brittany padded her way over to Harry and looked up at him sadly. "I don't care if you're friends with Mr. Draco, Daddy," she said, trying to comfort him, and Harry was disturbed to see tears rimming her eyes.

Harry would have responded but Hermione chose that moment to storm back into the room, carrying two empty suitcases. She started with Kimberly's dresser, shoving items of clothing into it haphazardly. Harry craned his neck to look into the hallway and sure enough there were two full suitcases already sitting there.

Bloody hell, what is it with her and making my life miserable?

His mind was blanking on what to do and it wasn't long until Hermione was pulling four confused children out of his apartment, all toting suitcases. He stood silently in the living room for awhile, not sure which way was up. Not for the first time in his life, Harry Potter was at a loss for what to do.

Without thinking about it, and barely realizing he was doing it, Harry made his way to the fireplace and Flooed Ron and Pansy's house. The house elf was there to answer him.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," she said brightly. "The family is not being home right now but if you is to leave a message - Mr. Potter you is not looking well, is you sick?"

Where the hell could they be at this time of night?

Harry shook his head hurriedly, coming close to banging it on the edge of the fireplace. "I-I'm fine, Tilla. Just let Ron know I Flooed, okay?"

"Tilla will be doing so, Mr. Potter. Don't you worry."

Harry managed a weak smile. "Thank you," he said, and he was about to pull back into the fire when an idea struck him...a last resort. "Wait - Tilla, could you get something for me?"

"Is Mr. Potter needing something Tilla can help with?"

"Erm...yes. I need you to get an address for me. Can you do that?"

****

Harry swallowed nervously and stared at the apartment door marked number eight. He had easily found the apartment complex located a street behind Diagon Alley in the housing section of wizarding London, not too far from his own house. And the room itself was easy to locate. Actually knocking on the door however was proving to be quite a feat.

Come on, Harry. You're friends right? You need someone to talk to...and it's not like he hasn't dropped over at your place before.

He never dropped by at ten-thirty at night.

Gathering his nerves, Harry lifted a very heavy arm and knocked swiftly three times. He heard voices behind the door and the horrified thought that he may be interrupting something flashed into his head before the door flew open. Harry blinked.

Standing inside of the door was a girl. She couldn't have been more than a few years his junior, dressed in a skirt much too short and tight for Harry's taste and a shirt not much better than that. Her honey-blonde hair was long, ending about where her skirt did. She looked at Harry curiously.

"Can I help you?" she asked, as if she were talking to a child.

Harry's brow furrowed. "I-I'm sorry...maybe I got the wrong place. I'm Harry Potter; I'm looking for a Draco Mal-"

"Who is it, Jill?" a voice called from another room and Harry recognized it instantly. Before he could say anything the girl called back.

"Some guy for you. 'Says he's Harry Potter," she said with laughter in her voice. "Do you want me to give him money and send him away or should I just shut the door?"

Harry was about to say something indigent but once again before he got the chance, Draco emerged from the other room. Now normally, an occurrence like this would not have caught Harry off guard; people walked out of rooms every day. But people did not walk out of rooms everyday dressed in nothing but tight white jeans with the smooth, pale skin of their torso exposed for the world to see. This time Harry really didn't have anything to say, he was rather speechless. And once again his mind was struggling to discover why.

Draco smirked at the girl. "Did it ever occur to you, Jillian, that maybe he was Harry Potter?"

Jillian blinked a couple of times in amazement. She looked from Harry, to Draco, and back to Harry. Then she took a couple of blatant steps forward and pushed Harry's fringe off his forehead.

"Blood-y hell!" she exclaimed as Harry stumbled back in shock.

Draco laughed. "You'll have to excuse her, she's a little bold."

Jillian glared. "Don't apologize for me, Draco, I can do it myself."

Then there was thumping, somebody running down a hallway and what emerged was the glitteriest thing Harry had ever seen.

"Draaaco, you're supposed to be ready to go," whined the man. "Honestly, you take the longest to dress of anyone I've ever met."

He was tall, brunette, very lean and dressed in what Harry was sure were plastic green glitter pants and a tight shiny silver shirt. Silver bracelets dangled on his wrists and a single dangly silver earring hung from his ear. There was no doubt in Harry's mind that at one point he'd been a Slytherin, as he had never seen such garish fashion sense from any other house. As he entered the room, which Harry now realized was a living room, he laid eyes on Harry, gave him a once over and smiled larger than Harry had ever seen.

"Who's the cutie?" he crooned.

"Bran, this is Harry," Draco introduced. He seemed to be enjoying this more and more every second that passed. "Who has yet to explain why exactly he's here...?"

"Erm...I needed to talk to someone. Ron wasn't home - though where he could be at ten at night I don't know. I-if you're busy I can come back some other time..." he rambled, edging his way to the door.

Draco quickly realized that there was something wrong. He knew better than to think that Harry would just show up randomly in the night for no apparent reason. Jillian was watching Draco curiously in the way she did when she thought something was up. Brandon was still eyeing Harry like he wanted to devour him on the spot. Making a split-second decision, he cleared his throat.

"You two are ready, why don't you just go without me tonight," he offered while cutting Harry off and dragging him away from the door by his arm. "I've got company to entertain."

Bran pouted miserably. "But Draco, you promised. You skipped last month!"

Draco gave him a look, one that Bran knew well and it was enough to silence him. "I'll make it up to you." He turned to look at Jillian. "Both of you," he added.

Jillian nodded once and grabbed Bran by his bracelet-clad wrist. "Come on, Bran. We'll be late," she said and began dragging him out the door.

Once they were out in the hall, Draco shut the door and turned to Harry, crossing his arms over his naked chest.

"Spill it, Wonder Boy."

Now that Harry was actually standing there in Draco's living room he was beginning to think that maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. It wasn't like he could sit there and cry on Draco's shoulder. Not that he would have done that with Ron but Ron had been there through everything he went through with Hermione...from day one really. Draco was a bit of a different case.

Draco eyed the black-haired man before him for a minute, taking in his state. Harry looked about ready to bolt, and it was obvious something harsh had been laid on his shoulders or he would certainly not be there. Draco made a decision that he would not let the man leave the apartment until he had calmed down.

He sighed and let his arms fall to his sides. "Alright, Harry. Come on," he said, grabbing Harry by the upper arm, pulling him over and depositing him on the couch. Harry, for his part, didn't put up a fuss.

Draco wandered into the kitchen which was melded into the living room; the flooring just turned from carpet to tile and there it was. He poked around the cupboards for a bit and then came back, plopping down next to the ex-Gryffindor.

He smirked, setting down a full bottle of fire-whiskey and two glasses. "Now, you are going to sit here. You're going to drink your mind into oblivion; you're going to feel better...until morning. And you're going to tell me why you came to my door at ten at night and had me cancel my monthly clubbing excursion. Right?"

Harry shut his eyes a minute, as if he was contemplating something and Draco watched him closely. Finally, he opened them and stared down at the alcohol on the table with the bright green orbs.

"Right," he said, uncapping the bottle and pouring about an inch in the bottom of each glass. He lifted one of them and held it up, just looking at it for a moment. "Bottoms up."

Harry liked drinking. It was a horrible habit; one did not escape one's problems by getting smashed out of their mind. However, once in a while, it was good to forget. Sometimes he needed to forget. And he was honestly glad Draco was there, to forget with him.

"Quite," Draco quipped back before downing his almost in unison with Harry.

"So, you want to know why I'm here?" Harry asked, with not a small amount of bitterness to it.

Draco refilled their glasses. "Yes."

Harry picked his up and downed it. Draco followed. "Hermione took the girls."

The shock registered on the blond's face. "Not for good?" he asked.

Harry nodded, grabbed the bottle, and tried to refill his glass again. He could already feel it going to his head from drinking so much, so quickly and he was doing his best to contain the urge to fall backwards. He was stopped when Draco put a hand over the top of his glass.

"Slow down," he told him, taking the bottle back. "Why?"

Sighing heavily the ex-Gryffindor fell back against the couch, laying his head back. "She doesn't want them around you, or me around them if I'm spending time with you," he said bluntly.

There was a silence a moment as Draco took this in and he unthinkingly refilled their glasses as he did. "Might I ask then why you're here? I should think a choice like that would be rather simple."

Harry bit his lip, his brow furrowing and his face reddening a bit. "It should be," he said quietly.

Draco didn't reply; he handed Harry his glass, frowning in thought. Harry took it, staring off into space. Draco decided to break the silence that seemed to swallow them. He snatched his wand from the coffee table and waved it at the stereo on a shelf near the door and a soft music flowed through the room. It had the desired effect; Harry snapped out of his daze and looked up at the stereo.

"What's this?"

Draco smirked a bit. "Judy Garland."

Harry's eyebrows rose into his hairline as the classic voice began belting out I'm Always Chasing Rainbows. "Is it just you, or do all Slytherins have odd tastes in music?"

Draco actually laughed. "Compared to most Slytherins, this is surprisingly normal."

Harry took a swallow of his drink, not wanting to dump alcohol down his throat the way he had been. His head was already spinning. "It's nice."

They continued to drink, talking and generally avoiding the subject of the girls and Hermione all together. Harry was properly smashed after a couple of hours, and so was Draco, who could usually handle alcohol fairly well.

Finally though, after they had all but killed the topics of work, Quidditch, and Draco's roommates, Draco broached the subject yet again.

"Granger really doesn't like me, does she?"

"So it would appear," Harry said, surprisingly firmly for one so intoxicated.

"I don't unders-"

"Nobody does. Though I susssspect," he slurred. "That it has something to do with her being a Muggle born. Over the years I've discovered that if anyone can hold a grudge, Hermione can."

"Well it's wonderful to know I'm eternally damned in her eyes," Draco ejected mock-cheerfully as he picked at the label on the nearly empty bottle.

"I'm not fairing much better, really."

"Mmm," came the agreement. "And yet you're here with me."

"I am."

"Despite the fact that I am the reason Granger refuses to let you see your offspring."

Instead of responding, Harry chose to giggle drunkenly. "You said offspring. They're not cattle."

Draco smirked slowly at him, pale blond hair falling into his eyes. "I should hope not. Granger may be bad, but she's not that much of a cow."

"Cheesy!" Harry proclaimed, throwing the pillow from behind his back at Draco's head and, due to lack of support, fell further back onto the couch. Draco took advantage of this and wedged the pillow between Harry's side and the back of the couch. Scrunching down onto the couch, he settled his head there and both of them fell into a rather comfortable silence but for the sound of the music.

A while later, Harry was slouched down on the couch staring into space and contemplating the meaning of the universe when suddenly, Draco stood. He stumbled to the center of the room where there was a bit of open space, held his arms out as if there was an invisible someone there and began stepping to the music in a circle.

"Malfoy," Harry said placidly. "What the hell are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, Potter? I'm dancing."

Harry scowled and watched the blond a minute more before hauling himself to his feet.

"Well, you can't dance properly without a partner," he said quietly, a bit slurred. He stepped up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and slipping his hand into Draco's left one.

Draco seemed to tense a bit but still laid his hand on the back of Harry's neck. Harry placed his cheek up beside the blond's and the dancing resumed. They remained that way for a period, and then Draco broke the quiet.

"What are you doing?" he whispered.

There was a silence as Harry thought up an appropriate answer in his drunken state. "I'm dancing with you," he replied, his voice rolling past Draco's ear and affecting a repressed shiver.

"Why?" Draco asked after a moment.

Harry pulled back, pausing. "I've no idea," he said softly.

Draco met Harry's eye. "Oh," he said his face blank. A moment passed in which gazes were locked and then the dancing resumed.

The words filtered through Harry's brain but he barely registered.

You made me love you. I didn't wanna do it-I didn't wanna do it. And all the time you knew it, I guess you always knew it.

"Potter, you're a horrible dancer."

"I am not. I took lessons before my wedding," grumbled Harry indignantly.

"Are too," he said, his brain unable to come up with a coherent response. "Twirl me."

Harry snickered but otherwise followed directions, when pulling Draco back, he tugged rather hard and the other man topped into him. They were almost nose to nose, and gaping at each other, almost with amazement. Harry drew in a light, shaky breath.

"I think I might to kiss you," Draco said.

"O-...oh," Harry replied slowly, vaguely lost in gray-depths.

Draco leaned forward uncertainly tilting his head to the side and Harry responded by leaning forward just the tiniest bit as well, tilting his head the opposite way. There was a terse moment where there couldn't have been more than a millimeter between them and then Draco pushed forward and pressed his lips against the dark-haired man whose arms he occupied.

Somehow, they were still dancing, and their eyes were scrunched shut and it was so achingly innocent that for minute everything else fell away and Harry felt the world blur like the ink on rain-sprinkled parchment. Up until this point, every kiss he'd ever had, had always seemed mechanical, unnatural. Long ago he had accepted that that was just the way of kisses and there was no fighting it. In that moment he realized he'd been wrong all along but his brain was so muddled, his thoughts drugged down with alcohol, that he barely registered what he was doing.

And then, Draco tried to deepen the kiss, and Harry tensed.

Draco's heart plummeted.

In an instant Harry had pulled away, stumbling back a few steps with his bright green eyes wide with confusion, and yes...there was fear there.

"Harr-...I'm sor-" Draco began but Harry cut him off.

"I should go," he said quickly, attempting to back peddle to the door and narrowly missing tripping over his own feet.

Draco flinched back as though Harry had shouted and like so many things with Draco, Harry wondered why. The blond wrapped his arms around himself and put up a cold mask, staring at his feet because Harry wasn't there and he didn't think he could look at Harry right then.

"Go, then," he said, sounding indifferent, which was an emotion Harry had never heard in his voice before.

"Um...I'm sorry i-if-"

It was Draco's turn to interrupt. He looked up at him and his eyes were almost blazing with silver. "I thought you were leaving," he said coldly.

Harry swallowed hard and almost ran from the apartment.

****

The next morning, Harry awoke to an empty house and a splitting headache. It was a moment before he remembered what had caused that, and as the events of the night before came speeding back to him he groaned and attempted to bury back under the covers.

He actually did manage to sleep for another couple of hours but after that he could no longer force himself back into his dreams. He shuffled tiredly out into the kitchen and began making a pot of tea. As he was heading back into the living room with a mug of tea, he nearly jumped a foot in the air, the mug falling to the carpeted floor and spilling everywhere. Draco's head was in the fireplace.

"Harry, we need to talk about this," he said, his face set firmly, not betraying any emotion at all.

"I'd rather not," Harry said scowling and turning around, heading back into the kitchen. His hangover would not allow for him to deal with this at the moment.

He waited in the kitchen for a bit until he was fairly sure the blond man's head was no longer in the fireplace. He poured himself another cup of tea and went back into the living room, using his wand to clean up the mess he'd made with the other.

"Harry!"

Harry scowled and faced the fireplace. "I thought I told you I didn't want to tal-" he cut himself off and busied himself with turning bright red.

It was Ron.

"What are you talking about? Tilla said you Flooed last night, is everything alright?"

"Erm, not really," he said wincing. "Look, I've got a bit of a headache at the moment. Will you be around later? I've got to speak with you about something."

Ron eyed him a moment from the fireplace he couldn't really tell, but he was pretty sure Harry was hung over. He wouldn't be surprised if whatever Harry had to tell him involved Hermione. He sighed. "Alright, mate. I'll be here all day. Come by whenever you're ready."

Harry sent him a weak smile. "Thanks, Ron."

Ron returned the smile and disappeared.

Harry realized that he had a hell of a lot of explaining to do.