Firewhiskey Is Bad, Mmkay?

“You’re really drunk right now.”

“No I’m not, you’re just blurry.”

“Potter, you’re still wearing your glasses.  I shouldn’t be blurry.”

“Hey, that’s right…why are you so blurry, Dray?”

“Because you’re really drunk right now,” Draco replied, rolling his eyes.

“Am not!”  Harry tried to stand, swayed, then dropped back into his  chair.  “Ooh, that wasn’t a good idea.  Now the room is spinning.  Why is the room spinning?  Did you activate a Portkey?”

“No, but if you don’t shut up I’m going to, and send you straight to St. Mungo’s, where they can deal with your drunk arse,” Draco threatened.

“I don’t need St. Mungo’s, I’m just fine…” Harry argued, then fell sideways out of his chair onto the floor.

“Potter?… Harry?… Great, now he’s passed out, the arse,” Draco muttered.  Sighing, he levitated Harry out of the kitchen and through the living room to the stairs, then climbed the stairs with Harry in front of him, finally depositing him in their room onto the bed.  Shutting the door, he went back downstairs to clean up the kitchen while he waited for Ron and Hermione to arrive.

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