Irresistible Poison DRARRY

Irresistible Poison - Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven: Crash and Burn

Something the heart must have to cherish,
Must love and joy and sorrow learn;
Something with passion clasp, or perish
And in itself to ashes burn.

"Enervate." A pause, then impatiently, "Come on, Harry! You couldn't have had more than three bottles, how drunk are you?"

Patterns of light and darkness danced in dizzying circles behind his closed lids; Harry refused to open his eyes, and he didn't like the voice that was persistently shouting in his ear — it disturbed the dense, churning peacefulness. He tried to mumble Go away, but all that emerged was an unintelligible grunt.

There was some shuffling of feet beside him which then seemed to grow distant, and the voice was quiet for a while; Harry was relieved, and he tried to immerse himself back into the realm where feeling and thought lay fallen on the ground like dried autumn leaves, where everything was calm in nothingness.

Then suddenly, without warning, a torrent of cold water splashed over his face, bringing harsh, glaring reality back to life in a liquid hiss, sparking a sharp pain that speared like a javelin through his temples.

"Baaaaaaaaaargh!" Harry spluttered, his eyes flashing open; his vision was momentarily dark with excessive bright. Patches of dark grey and white silver shifted in alternating grids before his eyes; he closed them again and groaned, rolling over to one side and clutching his head, trying to crawl away from the cold wetness that had already drenched him. "Arrrrrrrgh..."

Draco set down the half-empty bottle of water, his eyebrows quirking in mild surprise. "Hey, I never knew this actually worked so well. Always read about the Muggles doing it, but I figured, why bother with water when there are spells to do the job?" He shifted closer to Harry, who was curling away from him, and shook him lightly. "Harry, wake up. Open your eyes."

"What...?" Harry slurred, barely opening his eyelids. "Wh—Where am I?"

"Only hell," Draco deadpanned. "But you're in luck, they've turned on the Cooling Charms."

"Eurgh. Malfoy. It's you." The drunken haze abated slightly, permitting a trickle of coherent thought to pass through; Harry opened his left eye a crack. "Figures that I'd meet you in hell, anyway."

Draco dragged Harry into a half-sitting position — Harry tried to move his limbs, but they were recalcitrant; he finally gave up and let Draco do all the work. After struggling for a while and swearing under his breath, Draco managed to get him propped up against the wall.

"Ow," Harry moaned. "My head hurts."

"Yes, that would be the merciful part of a hangover," Draco remarked dryly, handing Harry a dry towel to wipe his face with. The front of Harry's robes was already soaked with the water that ran down his face and chin, although Harry didn't seem to notice. "The brutal part is the guilt and horror and regret, of course."

"Where am I?" Harry managed thickly; Draco's words came through sounding garbled. "What am I doing here? What happened?"

"You downed almost three whole bottles of Butterbeer's new Butterbooze, got dead drunk and promptly passed out." Draco held the half-empty bottle of water to Harry's dry lips, the other half of which he had used to revive him. "Or you got sat on by an overweight mountain troll. Either event would've had the same effect."

Harry drank thirstily, and the cool water sliding down his throat made him feel slightly better, at least quelling the tentative nausea that was kicking in. His head still hurt, but the grogginess eased and he was gradually able to open his eyes and blink normally without wincing from the glare of light.