The sound of loud knocking disturbed their peaceful slumber.
They must have fallen asleep in front of the fire last night.
Maybe that third bottle of wine hadn’t been the brightest idea he had ever had, Harry thought, referring to his head that was pounding in unison with the loud knocks.
The loud groaning by the man in whose arms he had fallen asleep suggested he wasn’t the only one who didn’t appreciate the noisy, and frankly rude, awakening.
What time was it even?
8am?
That was awfully early to disturb anyone.
‘Harry James Potter,’ a voice shouted over the loud knocking, ‘we know you are in there. Show your cowardly face so that I can give you a piece of my mind about flaking on us last night.’
‘Herm, dear, I am sure he had a good reason. Maybe we should come back some other time’, another voice tried to reason.
‘You don’t think he is ill, do you?’ a third voice asked concerned.
‘Hermione, dearest, don’t you think you are overreacting somewhat. He never promised he would attend the ball and you know such public gatherings aren’t really his thing. Don’t you think calling the Hero of the Wixen world a coward for not attending a charity event is a just a tat unfair?’
The fourth voice might have been trying to diffuse the situation, but it had the opposite effect.
The renewed pounding was now even louder and Hermione could be heard shouting, ‘Harry, if you don’t open this door in 3 seconds I am going to use Bombarda.
Harry knew this wasn’t an empty threat and quickly got up off the couch.
Too quickly, as he swayed momentarily.
‘Here,’ the gorgeous blonde said to him, as he handed him a small vial. ‘Best antidote against a hangover mixed with some pepper-up potion to clear your mind. By the sound of it you’ll need it. It is my own recipe and it works instantly. Trust me,’ he added, while taking a swig of an identical vial himself.
Harry downed the small vial of potion and instantly felt his headache dissipate and his spirits lift.
‘Thanks,’ he said gratefully, ‘and sorry about this,’ as he went to open the door to his friends.
~ ~ ~ ~
Before Harry could say a single word, Hermione barged into the house followed by an apologetic looking Ron and an amused looking Luna who was followed by Neville, who just shrugged at Harry, as he filed in after them.
At Luna’s ‘Nice suit, Harry’, Hermione turned around and looked Harry over.
‘Why are you in a suit, Harry?’ followed by, ‘Did you sleep in that suit?’
‘What on earth is going on, Harry?’
Then she noticed Luna grin from ear to ear at something or someone behind her.
She turned around and opened her mouth to say something, but for once was stuck for words.
‘I think I better go, Harry,’ Draco said as he squeezed past the group of friends.
‘Owl me,’ he waved as he quickly exited the Potter residence.
‘Bye, Draco, nice to see you’, Luna shouted cheerfully, as he pulled the door shut behind him.
~ ~ ~ ~
‘That is a most exquisite bouquet of daffodils, Harry,’ Luna commented, as they went through to the living room where moments ago Harry and Draco had been blissfully asleep.
Harry quickly vanished the remnants of last night’s takeout and the wine bottles and wine glasses. With a swish of his wand he threw open the curtains to let the morning light stream into the comfortable sitting room.
Harry heard Ron whisper to Neville, ‘Looks like Harry had a better night than us, mate,’ and hoped Hermione’s sensitive ears had not picked up on that.
Before he could ponder how he had gotten himself into this situation, Hermione loudly declared, ‘Spill!’ just as Luna, asked, ‘Did you have a nice night, Harry?’
He decided to answer Luna first, but his ‘Yes, thank you’ only resulted in Hermione beginning to impatiently tap her feet and crossing her arms in front of her.
‘Why don’t you guys sit down. Does anyone want coffee or tea?’
‘No, just spill,’ Hermione repeated, while Luna grabbed Neville’s arm and muttered something along the lines of ‘We’ll make some tea.’
Neville looked as if he was about to protest, as he was dying to hear about Harry’s night, but he knew better than to disobey Luna.
Harry sat down and sighed deeply.
‘There is basically nothing to spill.’
This resulted in a snort laugh from Ron.
‘Sorry mate, we saw Malfoy doing the walk of shame.’
‘The what?’ Harry and Hermione asked simultaneously.
‘You know, the walk of shame. When someone tries to sneak out after hooking up, wearing the same clothes from the night before.’
‘We didn’t exactly hook up,’ Harry said softly. ‘We just had a bit too much to drink and fell asleep, until you so rudely awakened us.’
‘Well, we wouldn’t have had to, if you hadn’t failed to make an appearance last night. You promised, Harry.’
Hermione’s voice had lost its initial anger and now sounded a bit whiny.
‘I know, and I am sorry. I will make it up to you with a most generous donation to the Charitable Home for Orphaned Romanian Dragons (CHORD).’
‘You better,’ Hermione grumbled.
‘Come on, mate, what happened last night,’ Ron was beginning to get impatient with the lack of forthcoming details from his closest friend.
Just then, Luna and Neville returned with tea, crumpets, some slices of fruitcake, homemade scones with butter, jam and clotted cream, none of which Harry thought he had in the house, so she must have nipped home through the floo to get them.
‘Neville was a lucky man,’ Harry thought, not for the first time.
Once they all sat down with a cup of tea, Harry told them all about the previous night, about the dating agency and Draco showing up with flowers and how they had talked and talked and opened a bottle of wine.
‘None of this explains how you two didn’t make it to the Wixen Ball,’ Hermione exclaimed.
Ron agreed with his wife and pressed for more details, but Luna took pity on Harry.
‘Some things are better left to the imagination, dearies. Now drink up and let’s get out of here. I am sure Harry has much more interesting things to do than chatting with two boring old couples.’
‘I do?’ Harry asked confused.
‘You do,’ Luna winked and silently mouthed ‘Owl’, as she raised her eyebrow knowingly.
‘Oh,’ Harry blushed.
He had completely forgotten Draco’s parting words.
How long after a date should one owl someone. And had this even been a date?
Harry’s palms began to sweat. He barely registered when his friends left, until Luna softly kissed him goodbye and whispered softly, ‘Go get your dragon, Harry.’