"Hey! You know what I just realized?" Ron, Hermione, and Harry had been sitting together in the Common Room working on revision when Ron suddenly had an epiphany.

"What?" Harry and Hermione asked in unison, a bored tone evident in both of their voices.

"We're old enough to go to the Three Broomsticks and get drinks that aren't butterbeer and pumpkin juice! We could get drunk!" Ron exclaimed, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Sure, but is that a good idea?" She asked, pursing her lip. Ron's excitement diminished slightly as he stared at his girlfriend, contemplating his next move like some life sized version of Wizard Chess - which he'd already run into once before.

"No, probably not, but it'd still be fun! Besides, Harry looks like he could use a drink, couldn't you Harry?" Ron asked, to which Harry gazed up from his scrolls and sighed.

"Ron, I don't want to agree with you on this, but if you insist that we should go to The Three Broomsticks on this ever so dreary Saturday, then let's do it." Harry stated, standing up, and abandoning his scrolls.

"Seriously Harry? You're agreeing with him on this?" Hermione asked, bewildered.

"Mione, I'm not gonna get drunk, and if you're not coming with us, I'll watch your boyfriend. I actually do like the idea of getting out of the castle, even if it is just to Hogsmeade." Harry stated, and Hermione sighed, settling into her overstuffed chair once more.

"Fine. Have fun, and don't do anything stupid." She stated, to which Ron grinned, assuring her he wouldn't and pulled Harry from the room. After making sure no professors were lurking, they made their way to the passage behind the knight statue that led to the Honeydukes cellar, and disappeared.

»»»

Hogsmeade was full of life for some reason on that cloudy Saturday. No holidays were coming up, but the witches and wizards seemed cheery and festive enough. The pair were stopped a few times for autographs, but made their way to The Three Broomsticks seemingly unharmed. Upon arrival, they chose a high table towards the back corner and each ordered a butterbeer - for old time's sake.

"Can't believe 'Mione actually let us go." Ron stated, taking a sip of his frosted drink.

"Me neither." Harry agreed, also taking a sip of the drink. The taste was like nothing he'd ever had, and he loved it.

"So like, I actually don't know what to do now. Like, I thought she'd forbid us for going and now that we're here, and not even sneaking around like we used to have to, I'm so lost. We need conflict!" Ron exclaimed, to which Harry let out a light smile.

"I think I've had enough conflict for a while, Ron." He said, sipping once more at his drink. The ginger boy stared at him thoughtfully, taking a bite of a biscuit.

"You talk to Ginny yet?" He asked through a mouthful.

"Actually, yes I have." Harry stated, and Ron's eyes widened.

"So, you two back together?" He asked.

"No, but we're at least friends. I don't know, Ron, I'm just- I'm not in a very relationship mood I guess." Harry sighed, finishing off his drink and deciding to go for something stronger. Thoughts on Sirius were clouding his mind, as they typically did. He then realized that he was seated at the same table that he had been when he'd overheard his professors discussing the fact that Sirius was his godfather back in Year Three.

"Well, friends is okay, I guess. But you're Harry Potter, and women are bound to flock to you. Surely you'll settle down eventually? Right?" Ron asked, also finishing off his drink and cradled his chin in his hands as he faced his friend.

"Yeah, eventually. I'm just- I'm a student now, and I guess studies are like really important, especially since this is our last year. If I want a good career, I can't be messing around like I have been." Harry claimed, and Ron nodded. They now had three shots of fire-whiskey each, and were waiting for the other to take the first sip.

Harry had promised Hermione not to get drunk, but as the night progressed, he found that the idea was actually quite nice. Maybe if he drank enough, he'd be able to forget...

He downed the whiskey, one after the other, and Ron cheered for him. Then, it was six whiskeys, and Harry's head was beginning to spin, but he could still see Sirius's face, so he continued. Nine whiskeys, and he'd fallen off his stool. The other drunken witches and wizards around him began to laugh, and Harry joined them.

It felt good to laugh, and Ron was laughing with him. He felt good, though slightly tired. He wanted to sleep, but he also wanted another drink. Ten whiskeys down, and Harry could not stand back up. Suddenly, Harry fell asleep, and the laughter faded.

»»»

"You absolute idiot." When Harry came to his senses once more, he found himself in a scenery he'd never seen before. This was not a Gryffindor dormitory, and this was not the Hospital Wing. For a moment, he panicked, until he felt the familiar heat of a body beside his, and turned to find none other than Draco Malfoy lying beside him, a disappointed look etched onto his face.

"M-Malfoy? Am I in your dormitory?" It was a stupid question. Of course that's where he was. Much like a Gryffindor's dorm, there were four canopy beds; but instead of scarlet red, and gold, the colors green and silver were etched into the design. Even the duvet matched the room, seeing as it was black and embroidered green, matching the black sheets.

"Course you are, Potter. I couldn't have you sleeping on the floor in the bloody Three Broomsticks like your idiot Weasel-friend." Malfoy stated, leaning upwards on his elbow to get a better look at Harry.

"We have got to stop meeting like this." Harry groaned, stretching out slightly, causing a sharp pain to shoot up through his skull.

"Stop making stupid choices then. And what you're experiencing is a hangover." Draco stated, adding on the last part as he noticed Potter wince.

"How much did I drink?" Harry asked.

"Enough to have you passed out in your own vomit. Honestly, Potter, have you no class?" Draco asked, and it was then that Harry realized they were alone.

"Where's your roommates?" He asked, avoiding Malfoy's judgmental stares.

"Made them sleep in the Common Room. Couldn't let them know I had a Gryffindor in my bed, let alone you." Malfoy stated, full on sitting up now. Harry couldn't help but glance at his torso, covered only by a loose-fitting white t-shirt. His dark mark illuminated itself in the moonlight, and Harry wondered if it still hurt him.

"I take it you have people in your bed often?" Harry asked, and upon saying that, he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy drop in his stomach, though he didn't quite understand why.

"Not all the time, Potter. I'm not a slut, after all. You have to earn your way into my bed." Draco smirked, and Harry felt uncomfortable then.

"What have I done to earn it then, seeing as you and I have fallen asleep together, what... Four times now?" He asked, and Malfoy's prideful demeanor diminished.

"We're not sleeping together, Potter, and you know that's what I originally meant. You just- you make stupid choices and for some odd reason, I'm always there for you when you make them. I swear I hate you, Harry Potter." Malfoy stated, though Harry couldn't detect an ounce of hatred in his gray eyes. Speaking of gray eyes, his looked quite spectacular when contrasting with moonlight.

What was Harry thinking? By Merlin, what was Harry thinking?

"Where's Ron?" He asked then, deciding it best to just change the subject.

"Not at The Three Broomsticks. I sent him to Madam Pomfrey's." Malfoy stated, and Harry couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't just left him there. As far as Harry knew, Malfoy despised of the Weasley's.

"Oh, well, thank you..." He muttered, and then sat up. "I uh, I think it's best if I just head out."

"And leave me all alone? No, Potter. You made yet another stupid choice, and now you're stuck with me until sunrise. So, how about we play a little game since I doubt either of us are getting back to sleep?" Malfoy proposed, and Harry couldn't help but grow curious.

"What kind of game?"

"It's a muggle game, Potter. In fact, it's one of the only muggle games I've ever actually enjoyed. Twenty questions." And then Harry found another pit of nervousness dropping into his stomach as he situated himself comfortably, legs still wrapped under the duvet as he sat facing Malfoy. What a long night this would be.