Smoke Three Joints

"If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it is: infinite [and pretty fucked up, too]."

- William Blake

White Rabbit Productions Presents a P. Money Production:

SMOKE THREE JOINTS

"Prologue: Draco and Hermione's Somewhat Excellent Adventure"

The Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley, London - Late Summer 1996

"So anyways, I says to Jacob, I says, Jake- now you listen here. I, er, I mean, you...you're really pissin' me off..." The drunken man's slurred speech died away slowly, and the old barkeep, Tom, wiped his hands on his stained waistcoat. It had been a long day, and the busier part of it was still to come. The regular drinkers were already in the little tavern, but the more rambunctious social crowd wouldn't be in for another hour at most. Tom glanced around briefly, checking on his customers. Hadn't there been a couple of kids in here just a minute ago? Probably passing through into the Alley, Tom thought, drying another mug. Dirk, one of the regulars, entered at his usual time. As the door slid shut behind Dirk, Tom heard some soft coughing, and voices.

"Shit," came a barely audible exclamation from the direction of the first-floor washroom. The expletive was followed by more coughing. Tom went to investigate. "Wait, wait," said the voice again. "Gimme another hoot."

"Incendio," said a second voice, this one female. There was a brief pause, then "yeah, that was nice." Tom shook his head as a thin trickle of smoke drifted up from under the door. He knocked loudly.

"All right, kids, time to go." This pronouncement was met with an outburst of cursing, and a whisper of "hide it in your sock, quick." The door opened, and two teens stumbled out- a thin blonde boy who simply had to be a Malfoy, and a rather plain-looking girl of the same age. Tom waved a hand in front of his face. "Go on, get out of here." The two youths made their way through the bar and out into the Alley entrance with no greater incident than when the girl tripped on a patron's foot. Tom shook his head ruefully. "Stoners."

~

After a lengthy disagreement in which neither could remember how to open the entryway to Diagon Alley, Draco and Hermione were assisted in their efforts by an elderly lady who opened the wall for them. Upon entering the Alley proper, they promptly sat down.

"So, Hermo- er, Hermiy- so, erm, you, whad'you think we should do now?" Hermione broke out in laughter, hitting Draco repeatedly in the shoulder before answering.

"I think- wait, what did you say? Wait, wait, I remember. Erm...hey! We should go to Florean Forteshoo's!"

"Did you say 'Flouride?'" asked Draco, astounded.

"No, you dumbass," replied Hermione, "I said we should go...somewhere..."

"Yeah!...erm...that ice-cream place...yeah!" Draco and Hermione stood up slowly and started down the Alley, which proved to be, unfortunately, more or less straight.

"Wait a minute," said Draco, after about five minutes had passed. "Isn't Florean's the other way?"

~

"Prologue 2: Road Trip"

Just Outside of Hogsmeade - Late summer 1996

"Fred."

"Check."

"Quiet, Fred, I haven't started the checklist yet. Okay...now. Car."

"Check."

"Lee."

"Check," said Lee.

"Katie, Angelina?"

"Yeah, we're here," replied the girls.

"Five coolers, twenty bottles of Guiness, seventy cans of Pilsener, and a twixer of Coconut Rum."

"Check."

"All of which are unopened."

"Erm...not check." Lee and Fred looked down in unison.

"I guess that means I'm driving. Did Lee's plant fit in the back?"

"Yeah," replied Lee, "but some buds fell off. We managed to salvage them, though."

"We're saving them for later," added Fred.

"Good. Let's go." The five youths piled into the battered Anglia, and George started the car down the bumpy dirt road connecting Hogsmeade station to the main muggle roads.

"Man, is this going to be good," said Fred happily.

~ That Evening... ~

The Anglia was parked on the edge of a quiet lake, in an empty campground. Fred, George, Lee, Katie, and Angelina huddled around a roaring fire to keep warm. Some steaks and kebabs sizzled on a little grate, while Fred struggled desperately with the cap of a bottle of Diefenbaker's "I Can't Believe It's Not Alcohol!" Magically-Enhanced Barbecue Sauce. With a pop the cap came off, showering him with the dark brown sauce. Startled, Fred fell off the log he had been sitting on. An outburst of laughing came from George, who lost his balance and fell off the log as well. Lee rolled over on the grass where he'd been lying and pointed at Fred, laughing, then suddenly cried out.

"Yow! My hand!" In the process of pointing it had ended up in the flames, and knocked a steak into the coals. "Ow! Goddamn!" Katie threw an arm clumsily over Lee.

"Let me have a look. I know medical magic. Umm, oh wait, I don't have my wand..." she overbalanced quite suddenly and sent them both toppling backwards onto Fred, who was still attempting to clean the barbecue sauce off of his shirt.

When George recovered from laughing himself silly, he came to his senses-

"Hey guys, how're we gonna get the steak out of the fire?"

"Don't worry about it, man," said Lee calmly. "I'll get it." Everyone watched with bated breath as he reached his hand in towards the fire, then pulled it back suddenly. This continued for about fifteen minutes before he was able to use a stick to drag the charred piece of meat from the flames. "Fred, man," said Lee, "I'm gonna need some barbecue sauce for this one."

"Harry Potter and the House Party of Doom"

Number 4, Privet drive; Late summer 1996; 4:00 PM

Harry Potter was a very unusual boy in many ways, as evidenced by a simple glance around his bedroom. For one thing, he had an open book lying face-down on his bed, entitled "Grow Higher Through Higher Growing", emblazoned with a large photo of an untidy specimen of Cannabis Sativa, the common pot plant. For another, there was a small owl flying repeatedly into the door of his closet. Finally, Harry himself was in the midst of an impromptu break-dance in the center of the room. There was quite a good reason for all three of these things: Harry Potter was a Wizard. And a stoner. And his Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and horizontally over-endowed cousin Dudley had just left on their way to the airport, for their annual holiday to Majorca. He, Harry, was to be allowed a week of remaining at the Privet Drive house, alone and free from abuse. Furthermore, Ron Weasley had just responded to his owl, and was on his way to Privet Drive that very moment...by taxi. Harry glanced out his bedroom window and noted the cab pulling up, and Ron exiting. He exchanged brief words with the driver and went around the back of Number Six. Harry scratched his head in confusion, until he saw Ron clambering over the fences and through the yards of the Dursleys' neighbors. There was a pounding on the back door, and Harry went to let Ron in.

"Glad you could make it, man," said Harry happily. He hadn't seen another wizard all summer, and had recently consumed the last of the stash hidden in his sock drawer, the one given to him by Neville Longbottom as an end-of-school present.

"Glad your neighbors' dog was sleeping," said Ron by way of greeting. "Is that cab still out there?"

"Last I looked, yeah," replied Harry.

"It's good to see you again, man," said Ron. "You got anything lying around here?"

"No," said Harry wistfully, "I finished it last week. I've been pretty desperate waiting for the Dursleys to leave so I could restock my stash."

"Well, I haven't got any on me...mum kicked Fred and George out after she found what they were growing in the attic, and they were my source. They're on a road trip with Lee and the girls, though, so if we can owl them, we might be able to get them to come here." Harry smiled.

"Ron, man, it's like you're reading my mind. I thought that since the Dursleys are away, we could...y'know, have a party over here. Invite everyone from Hogwarts. It'll be so sweet..." Ron nodded vigorously.

"Oh, yeah! That's an awesome idea! Say, did they ever disconnect your fireplace from the floo-net after we came over that one time?"

"Er...I don't know," said Harry, furrowing his brow. "That would be sweet if they didn't though...let's go try it out!"

Once in the living room, Harry took out his wand.

"Man, it'll be good to do some magic again, after all that time..." Ron shook his head.

"Harry, we're not allowed to do magic over the holidays, remember?"

"Pff, what're they gonna do, send me a warning? It's not like anyone else follows that rule." He pointed his wand at the Dursleys' fireplace, a different one from the one that Ron's father had destroyed about a year ago. "Incendio!" The empty grate broke into green flames. "Erm, you wouldn't happen to have any floo powder on you, would you, Ron?" asked Harry.

"Shit," said Ron. "By which I mean no."

"Hold on, I know," said Harry, brandishing his wand. "Accio Floo Powder." Ron shook his head again.

"That's usually not a good idea." Both friends stood in silence for nearly a minute. Ron was about to sit down on one of the Dursleys' leather couches when a loud thump resounded through the room. "What was that?" asked a startled Ron, pausing in mid-sit and nearly falling.

"I don't know. Let's go check it out." Upon looking out the door, Harry observed a large pot of floo powder lying in the garden, just beneath a wide crack in the house's pale pink stucco. "Huh. Lucky that wall was there, or it would've hit me pretty hard." They gathered up most of the spilt powder and returned to the living room.

"Okay, how's this work?" asked Harry. Ron rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"The floo-comm system is great. Nearly every witch and wizard in Britain is connected to it upon birth. You just toss some powder in, and say who you want to talk to, and your face pops up on the nearest public grate to where they are, or on their own private grate if its closer. Now, who should we floo?"

"Well, Hermione for sure," said Harry, "and Fred, George, Lee, and the girls..."

"Dean and Seamus," added Ron, "and the Patils, and Lavender, maybe..."

"How about Neville?" asked Harry. Ron shook his head.

"He won't come, he's running an international crime syndicate with Lucius Malfoy."

"Well, I suppose we could invite Malfoy," said Harry. "He's an asshole, but he's alright when he gets high. And he always has the good expensive stuff."

"We'll see," said Ron. He tossed a pinch of powder into the flames. "Ron Weasley, for Hermione Granger." The flames quivered, and were replaced by a large green happy-face.

"Your floo is being processed. Please hold." Ron sighed loudly and sat down in front of the happy-face, which was whistling "Sitting on the Dock of the Bay."

"These bloody things," said Ron, shaking his fist at the happy face a minute later.

"Sittin' here, resting my bones...this loneliness won't leave me a- thank you for holding," said the happy face. "Your call has gone through to Hermione Granger." The happy-face was replaced by Hermione's, sitting in the fireplace.

"Hey guys, what's up?" said Hermione. "Why're you at Harry's, Ron?"

"The Dursleys are going to Majorca. I'm here on my own for a week," said Harry, unable to resist a wide grin. "We're having a party tonight. Wanna come?"

"Party? Are you sure that's a good idea?" asked Hermione skeptically.

"Er...yeah," said Harry. "Yeah, I think it's a pretty good idea."

"Okay, I can be there in about three hours," said Hermione. "I'm down at Florean Fortescue's." There was a quiet murmur in the background. "Can Draco come too?"

"You're down there with Malfoy?" snapped Ron. "I don't know, Hermione...put him on." Hermione's face vanished, and was replaced with Draco's.

"Hey, Weasley," he said, looking around. "Potter. Surprisingly decent place, this, at least for muggles."

"If you want to come to the party, Malfoy, you're going to have to act decent," said Harry.

"Hey, that was a compliment," said Draco. "Well, I guess only sort of. Sorry. So, can I come? I've got some primo grass here. Hermione says it's the best she's ever had. I'll bring it over, okay?" Harry looked much happier; Ron stopped scowling.

"Sounds good, Malfoy. See you," said Harry. Draco smiled.

"See you tonight, Weasley," he said with a wink, and his head vanished from the grate.

"What the hell was that?" asked Harry. Ron shook his head.

"I don't know, but I feel dirty." Ron shuddered, and shook himself before taking another pinch of floo powder from the jar. Hermione's head reappeared just as he was about to toss it in.

"Bye, guys. See you in a few hours."

"Bye," said Harry and Ron at once. Ron threw in the powder. "Ron Weasley, for Fred Weasley. They've got a floo-comm in the car, I think." Sure enough, the happy-face did not appear this time, and Fred's face was there immediately.

"Ron? You at Harry's?"

"Yeah," said Ron, "we're having a party. You guys wanna come?"

"Sweet," said Fred, and in the background more voices could be heard. Katie's head appeared next to Fred's.

"We've got drinks," she said, grinning broadly. "Who else is coming?"

"So far, just Hermione and Malfoy," said Harry. Katie smiled.

"Malfoy's a sexy drunk," she said. "Ow! Angelina!" Her head disappeared. Fred smiled.

"Gotta go, Harry, catfight. We'll be there in a couple hours; we'll floo a few more people, if that's okay."

"Knock yourself out," said Harry. "It it's not to much trouble, try to get the Patils and Lavender, and Dean and Seamus."

"Sure, it's cool," said Fred. "See you." The grate was empty.

"Man, this is gonna be good," said Ron.

"Yeah," replied Harry. "We should put a balloon on the mailbox." Ron nodded, and they left the living room in search of balloons.

~ Three Hours Later ~

A repeated ringing at the door distracted Ron and Harry from a pillowfight in Dudley's room; somewhat dazed, they made their way downstairs to answer it. Draco and Hermione stood there, smiling ridiculously.

"Heeey, Potter...how's it going?" said Draco, slowly, leaning his head back. He was wearing retro-style sunglasses with very large blue lenses. "Anyone else here yet?"

"No, you're the first ones," said Harry. "Nice shirt." Under Draco's cloak was a t-shirt reading "Alistair Crowley kicked my ass at the Little Hangleton Pub Crawl, 1926."

"Thanks, Potter. It's my uncle's." Draco smiled and turned to Hermione. "Fancy a smoke-up before the others arrive?"

"Sure," said Hermione.

"Hey, hook us up," said Harry, "I ran out my stash a week ago." Draco sighed.

"Fine, man...where can we go so we can see if anyone shows up and not get seen by the muggles?"

"Erm, there's a spot over by the gate to the backyard that's good," said Harry. "I'll go and get my pipe."

"It's cool, you can use mine," said Draco. "Come on."

~ Ten Minutes Later ~

"What the hell do you think it is, Hallowe'en?" came a shout from one of the houses across the street. "Get out of my yard! Damn kids!" Harry blew the last ashes out of the bowl of Draco's pipe and stood up unevenly to see Lavender Brown and the Patil twins laughing as they crossed the street. One of the Privet Drive residents shook a rake in their direction.

"Hey, we're over here!" shouted Hermione, also standing up.

"Hey, everyone!" said Lavender happily, hugging Harry and Ron in turn and continuing to Hermione. "How are you all?"

"Oh, we're all right," said Draco, getting up. "Just having a quick session, you know..." Parvati and Padma looked disapproving.

"Oh, they don't smoke weed," said Lavender, following Draco's gaze. Draco nodded. "So, who else is coming?"

"Dean and Seamus're coming, I think," said Ron.

"And Fred, George, Katie, Angie, and Alicia," added Harry.

"Cho Chang called while we were at the Leaky Cauldron," said Draco, "I think she might be coming." He looked over at Harry. "Calm down Potter, save it for later."

"Fred said he'd floo some more people, so we might have a big crowd."

"This is gonna rock," said Parvati, smiling. "Let's go inside." Everyone wandered back up to the door, some unsteadily. A loud tire screech and a shout came from down the street, and the Weasley's old Anglia pulled into the drive. Fred and Lee jumped out, followed by Lee and Alicia. Katie and Angelina clambered out of the back seat with difficulty.

"Hey guys," said Lee, and more greetings followed.

"I'll get the booze," said Fred. "Let's get this party going."

~ Half an Hour Later ~

Draco and Angelina were dancing vigorously to the trance CD that Harry had dug out of Dudley's extensive collection. Hermione was in the kitchen making a batch of brownies. Fred and Lee were also in the kitchen, mixing drinks. George and Katie were on the couch talking. Ron had vanished outside somewhere, and Harry wasn't feeling up to finding him. Alicia had gone to greet Seamus and Dean and none of them had shown up yet. Harry shook his head in an attempt to clear it; he stood up.

"I'm getting another drink, guys," he announced, weebling slightly. In the kitchen he was greeted warmly by Fred and Lee, who prompted him to try one of their new concoctions, a combination martini-firewhiskey.

"Man, if I was sober," said Harry "I wouldn't touch this. But since you said..." he downed it. "Ee-uck! Good gods!" He grabbed a bottle of Bacardi Silver that Lee had been drinking and knocked it all back. "Oh...guys, no more experimenting with the booze. We need that to drink..." the room spun a little in front of Harry's eyes. He took a step, and then it spun a lot. "Whoa...help me out, guys." Fred set Harry on the right way back to the living room, and he nearly made it, colliding with a potted plant after passing through the door and falling. He got up and sat down on the couch.

Draco spun and let his hair drop in front of his eyes briefly, before snapping his head back as the song came to an end.

"Whoo!" he exclaimed, smiling at Angelina. "Hey, Harry, has your cousin got any of those flashing lights muggles always have when they dance?"

"Uhhhh," replied Harry.

"Not feeling so good, huh? I'll check it out myself, then." Draco went up to Dudley's room and began to rummage through his many, many possessions in search of a strobe light or something similar. After tossing aside a computer monitor, an assortment of video games, a partially-eaten lemon cream cake and a slightly burnt copy of "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban", he found a large strobelight and blacklight, still in their boxes. "Sweet," he said happily, and returned downstairs, almost falling. "Erm...how do these things work?" He went off in search of Seamus, who he found on the porch with Alicia and Dean, smoking from a shoddily constructed bong. Seamus bent over coughing, and looked up.

"Hey Malfoy, you're here? That's a surprise." He started laughing.

"Yeah, Finnigan, this is a real laugh. That had better not be my weed, I was saving that for later."

"Erm...yeah," said Seamus shiftily. "What do you want, anyway?"

"You're muggleborn, right?" said Draco.

"Yeah," replied Seamus suspiciously. "What's this about? You aren't still on about all that stuff, are you?"

"No, but I was wondering, could you help me figure out how to make these work?" said Draco, brandishing the lights.

"Oh, that..erm, sure, no problem. Come on."

~ An Hour Later ~

Harry was throwing up in the corner of the living room. Draco was still dancing, now with Alicia; Dean was break-dancing in front of the fire, which was lit again and burning green. Hermione and Ron were in awe of the potted plant, which now lay sprawled across the doorway. Fred still lay where he had tripped over it over ten minutes ago. Lee had lost his shirt at some point, and was wearing Aunt Petunia's floral-print drapes like a toga. George and Angelina had gone upstairs a little while ago in search of an empty bedroom, and a fresh pair of pants. Seamus was nowhere to be found, but the last report had placed him in the bathroom, playing with scented candles. Katie had gone to make sure Angelina and George wouldn't do anything they would regret and had, by all accounts, joined them.

Draco spun in the flashing green strobe, his white jeans and hair shining in the black light while he sang along to "Electric Avenue." He grabbed a drink out of Lee's hand as he walked by, and made lewd gestures towards Hermione and Ron while stroking the lump of weed in his pocket.

"What a rockin' party!" he exclaimed towards Harry, who vomited bits of soda cracker again, all over the plush grey carpet.

"For gods' sake, turn the strobe light off...turn it off...ohhh, my head," said Harry miserably, rolling over onto his back and covering his eyes.

"Dude," said Fred, "that must really suck. Oh man, I can't get up...I tried, man, I can't!" he said, to Lee's outrageous laughter. "Hey, Ron, have you got any more of those brownies? They were good. Chocolatey..." Hermione began laughing, and fell over on the floor.

"That leaf had veins," she said, "and when the light flashed, they flashed! It was like I was in the leaf, Ron. Ron, look at it! ItÂ's flashing!"

"Whoa...it is flashing!" Just then there was a loud knocking at the door.

"Don't worry, I'll get it," said Draco, dancing over towards the door with a spin and singing "Stayin' Alive." He opened the door and came face to face with a young woman in a muggle Police officers' uniform. Two other officers stood behind her, and two cars with blinking sirens were parked on the street.

"Could you show us to the owner or guardian of this house?" she asked sternly.

"Erm, I'm afraid not," said Draco, "he's in-dis-posed. But I could show you the proprietor of a very large-" the policewoman cut him off.

"That will do. We've had some complaints from the neighbors. Try to quiet it down a little, will you? And for the love of god turn off the disco."

"You know, you could quiet me down, baby, if you'd just-"

"I said that would do!"

"Ohh," said Draco, turning away, "I've been rejected." He turned back to her with a dazzling grin. "All right, officer. We'll go easy on the disco." He turned around. "Hey, guys, the sexy sexy cops're here, tone it down a little!" The music was shut off, eliciting cries of disappointment from Alicia and Dean. "There. And I'll do what I can to get Katie off of the roof. Oi! Katie! Get down from there, it's not safe!"

"All right, I'm coming," said Katie from above. "Whoah, shit!" There was a squeal and a crunch as Katie fell into the garden. "Erm, I meant to do that," she said, standing rather wobblily and walking over to Draco. "You were right, that was dangerous. I could have fallen..."

"Erm...right," said Draco, turning back to the policewoman. "Now that we've dealt with that, what say you and I go someplace private? I happen to know there's a hot tub in the backyard of this house. You look a little stressed, I'll give you a nice massage..."

"No, thank you," said the policewoman sternly. "Besides, I haven't got a bathing suit with me."

"Hey, it's cool," said Draco, gesturing towards his white jeans, "I'm not wearing anything under these either."

"Oh, that's quite enough," said the policewoman, turning away to address her backup, who were snickering uncontrollably. "Come on, let's go."

"I'll go to the hot tub with you, Draco," said Katie, putting her arm around him for support, "you sexy drunk, you."

"Actually, I think it's you who's drunk, gorgeous," said Draco smiling, "but either way, it's all good." They made their way to the gate to the backyard, where they were baffled by the simple lifting lock mechanism. Just as the police were leaving, a dark green Cadillac Seville pulled up with a squeal of tires. Five Ministry wizards and witches in full cloaks climbed out; three ran up to the house, two accosted Draco and Katie.

"What's going on here?" demanded the taller, balder wizard of Draco.

"Erm...house party?" suggested Draco blandly.

"Yes, I can tell," said the second wizard, pointing with his wand to the chimney, which was puffing green smoke and sparks from the magical fire. "What is that?"

"Er, shit," said Draco.

"I donÂ't think so...to me it looks like breaking the reasonable restriction for underage wizardry!" spat the Ministry wizard.

"Well, that too," put in Katie. "It really doesn't look too much like shit, you know...in fact, it looks pretty damn cool."

"Well, it does look kind of...hey! Wait a minute! You kids are really in a lot of trouble! Get back in the house!" shouted the younger wizard.

"Oh, go easy on 'em, Jack. We were young once...why I remember back in the day, I saw The Who at Leeds...man, those were good times. A friend of mine, this chick, she brought some acid, and it was like, the coolest shit ever..." Draco and Katie went through the gate and took the cover off of the hot tub.

~ Meanwhile, Inside... ~

"Is there a problem, ociffers?" asked Hermione pleasantly to the three Ministry officials crowded about the door.

"Yes, miss, there is a problem...the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Wizardry has been broken very seriously by you youngsters. There's going to be some serious fines handed down with this, I assure you. Where is the proprietor of this house?"

"Erm..he's over there," said Hermione, pointing to Harry, who lay face down on the couch, passed out and shirtless. There was a flower in his badly mussed hair, no doubt put there by Fred.

"I see," said the Ministry wizard. "Well, I'm afraid we'll have to send you all home now. There's going to be a bit of a job here for the Obliviators, I'll wager. Come on now, everybody out..." There was a painful silence as the partygoers, with the exception of Harry, turned from their various immobile states to look at the Ministry workers. The protracted silence continued, until it was broken by a loud cry from upstairs.

"Oh, George, yes!" The partygoers all looked at each other nervously.

"Oh, yeuck!" burst out Ron and Fred simultaneously. "I did not need to hear that!" Hermione started giggling.

"Yeah, go George!" Lee, still in his flowery-drapes toga, shouted up the stairs. "You da man!" The Ministry wizards and witch looked decidedly uncomfortable.

"Alright, come on everyone, get out," said the foremost one.

"Fine, but I'm not going upstairs to get them to leave," said Fred, gesturing at the bedroom where George and Angelina had been ensconced. Just as it seemed the party was breaking up, however, the rumble of a loud engine broke the relative silence that had ensued ever since the music ad been turned off. A pair of headlights came in to view, along with the beat of a powerful sound system pounding out the theme from "Shaft". The car, a black Pontiac GTO Convertible with flaming green snakes up the sides, pulled into the driveway as the Ministry wizards gathered round. Hermione recognized the driver at once; he reclined far back, steering with one hand, his trademark white hair streaming down his back. He parked the car and nodded condescendingly at the Ministry officials.

"Hello, Malfoy," said one of the Ministry wizards. "And who might this be?" he inquired of the passenger. Opening the door, the passenger stood up slowly; he was a tall man, and Hermione gasped when she saw him. He may have grown his hair out, and put it in dreadlocks. He may have somehow acquired a tan. He might even be wearing brown contacts, and a Rastafarian-style red, green, and yellow hat. But there was no mistaking the thin form, the spidery fingers, and the creepy, Michael Jackson-esque lack of a discernable nose.

"Right now," said the man, "I go by the name of V. Faraijah; however, you might know me better as Lord Voldemort." He gave an ironic smile in the direction of the Ministry wizards and witch. A moment later, an ear-splitting shout went up.

"It's You-Know-Who! Good gods, run!" The Ministry wizards piled in to their car and sped off, to the hearty laughter of Lucius Malfoy, and really everyone else, too.

"I heard there was damn good party here, so I decided to stop by," said V. pleasantly. "One of the benefits of having pursued eternal youth early in my career is that I can still party at seventy years old."

"Well, to be perfectly honest, my Lord- I mean, V.- it is a little creepy," said Lucius.

"Oh, you're just saying that 'cause I dance better than you, man," said V. "Anyway, I'm carrying a gift for Harry Potter, courtesy of Mr. N. Longbottom. Is Harry around?"

"Yeah, but he's passed out on the couch," said Hermione helpfully. V. entered the house and slipped a large bag of weed into the unconscious Harry's pocket.

"Here you are, Mr. Potter," he said ruefully. "Hopefully that will make up for some of the grief I have caused you."

Meanwhile, out on the porch, Lucius was also questioning Hermione.

"So, is my son here somewhere?" Hermione thought for a moment, going back through her confused memory of the night.

"Yeah, he was here...but I think he's, erm, busy...if you know what I mean..."

"Ah, I see," said Lucius, stroking his cane. "Is it a guy or a girl?" Hermione got a Look on her face that said she really didn't want to discuss it.

"I honestly don't know, and, erm, I really don't think I want to...excuse me." She escaped back into the house and found V. had turned the music back on, and was singing along to "African Herbsman" while the strobe light pulsed and the black light glowed.

"African herbsman, why linger on...se-eize your time, 'cause hea-ven lives

o-on..."

"Oh, this just keeps getting weirder," said Hermione, making her way up the stairs for a reason she had long since forgotten.

"I really need more weed."

"Epilogue: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bong"

Number 4, privet drive; two days following the house party of doom

Harry Potter was a very unusual boy in many ways; additionally, he was still feeling the aftereffects of a hell of a lot of vodka and weed, and who knows what else. His head hurt a fair bit, though nothing next to what it had been the day before, and his heart had developed a disturbing tendency to race at odd times. Also, his hair smelled strongly of hibiscus for some reason. Hermione had stayed over for a couple of days to help with the monumental clean-up (no, nothing happened, he was badly hung over, damn it! Heel, H/H-ers!). The vomit had been cleaned out of the living room corner and off of the drapes. Well, one side of the drapes; the other side was still missing, having been used as a toga under very fuzzy circumstances. Harry suspected Lee had worn them home. Even more disturbingly, Hermione had discovered Draco's pants out by the hot tub just after he'd left; it had frightened Harry a lot to discover that no one knew what Draco had worn on the way out. There were also some very suspicious stains on his Aunt and Uncle's bed, as well as a suspiciously shaped hole in the wall. The kitchen smelled strongly of alcohol and a number of dishes had been broken; additionally, the Ministry had sent an owl insisting on the payment of six hundred galleons in fines.

Harry was making plans for another party as soon as his heartbeat was back to normal; after all, it was still four days until the Dursleys got back!