The Morning After the Night Before

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Phil awoke in a groggy haze. Comprehension came slowly, as if he was dragging it up from the very depths of the lake with a heavy weight tied to one end. There was something sticky in his hair and his limbs were tangled in thick fabric. Come to think of it, not all the limbs he could feel were his own. He frowned, and attempted to move his head. This was a bad mistake, as the position he had been sleeping in was physically improbable and the movement sent a shooting pain down his spine. He groaned as he tried to stretch out the aching stiffness. There was someone else’s hair tickling his nose and someone else’s arm almost suffocating him where it was wound around his neck. He frowned, his eyes still too heavy to open, as he tried to recall the night before.

They had drunk a lot of butterbeer. He remembered clearly the cheerful, giddy tingling and the warmth in his fingers. He remembered Chris and PJ. Chris had been shaking in terror as they’d taken to the floor, his eyes wider and more innocent than Phil could ever have imagined. PJ had chuckled his deep, throaty chuckle and taken his waist, sending visible shivers down Chris’s spine. He had jolted where they touched, his face draining of colour and then flooding red again all of a sudden.

Dan and Phil had watched, hand in hand, as Chris had melted into PJ’s arms with an expression of upmost bliss, and they had been painfully close to tearing up. Chris had seemed completely unable to let go of PJ all night, clutching at his robes as if afraid he would vanish into a hallucination if he broke physical contact. PJ had taken it all very amicably however, and had introduced himself warmly to the group from Chris’s arm.

From then on it was all a bit of a blur. He remembered Chris and PJ disappearing for half an hour without a word and returning with rosy cheeks and stumbling limbs, having somehow procured a large quantity of elderflower wine which they were hiding not so inconspicuously under their robes. As the party raged on and various meads and liquors were brought out for the of-age students, the staff seemed to turn a blind eye to the tipsy fifth years in the corner; however it seemed they weren’t the only group with good foraging skills and they were forced to vacate speedily to the grounds when a fourth year threw up violent green vomit in the middle of the dance floor and the teachers were suddenly spurred into action.

The fairy garden provided a high pitched and squealing game of catch and Phil distinctly remembered a steamy make out session behind a rose bush. He wasn’t sure exactly how they had brought the night to a close, but as he carefully unstuck each eye he was about to find out.

He was in his own bed, which was a pleasant surprise, but the hangings had been torn down almost completely on one side and were now tangled hopelessly. Dan was lying almost on top of him, breathing gently, his hair curled and mussed. Carefully, Phil manoeuvred an arm out from under Dan and tried to shake some feeling back into it. He lifted up his head (with a hiss of pain) to find the owner of the third pair of legs that were caught in the fabric.

Chris lay curled up in a nest of blankets and pillows (and bed curtains) on the floor, with his arms firmly wrapped around PJ Liguori. His mouth was fixed in a smile, his face half hidden in PJ’s hair, his long legs somehow still elevated up on the bed as if the pair had fallen off at some point in the night. Phil grinned fondly. Careful not to impose the same fate on Dan, he began the slow and intensely painful process of untangling himself.

He was just attempting to clean up a curious doughnut shaped bruise on his thigh with a jar of Star Grass Salve when he heard a whisper from the floor.

“Phil, Phil help. Where’s my wand?” Chris hissed.

“Why do you need your wand?” Phil asked, amused. Chris’s hair was sticking up comically and his eyes were wide.

“I need to fix myself up before PJ wakes up. Please Phil, this is urgent. My mouth tastes like I’ve been licking dragon balls.”

“Your hair need a bit of work too.” Phil giggled.

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