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Cheeks red, Harry glared at her. She gestured idly, glass in hand.
"Tell me about him. Aren't you a little young to be a godfather?"
"He's eighteen months old and the most adorable little brat you've ever seen. I swear his middle name should have been mischief." Harry shook his head and sighed as a little of the happiness drained out of his face. "I was good friends with his parents and when they both died I tried to be the best godfather I could be. In a way I know I did something right. Teddy was there when the ritual called me away and it almost killed him but I managed to get him away at the last second." He sighed again. "At least he still has his grandmother."
He looked down at the table lost in thought but the sound of her swallowing made him look up. She looked stricken. "Still way too depressing," she squeaked out. "I don't really want to talk about dead people."
She shuddered and then eyed him solemnly as if about to impart some great pearl of wisdom. "You should never get depressed when drunk. It's a waste of good booze."
Despite himself Harry snorted and he gave her a small smile, grateful for lifting the mood. "How about we talk about something much prettier then. Tell me about you?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh thank you, Professor White," she said demurely. "Has my detention finally come to an end?"
Harry shuddered, though he wasn't sure if it was out of fear or fancy.
"Minx," he said without any heat. "Buying you a drink bought me a respite from embarrassment. The least you can do is wait until it's finished."
"Very true," she acceded before promptly tossing her glass back and belching flames in the air. She smiled at him innocently. "All done."
Harry slumped in his seat and groaned. It was going to be a long night.
Rosie kept the drinks coming as they chatted and learned more about each other, though Harry tried to pace himself as he knew he didn't have quite that much gold to spend. The flirting turned outrageous until the blush never even left his cheeks, but on more than one occasion he got her to colour slightly as well and he counted those moments as major victories.
As the hour turned late though, she was more than slightly drunk when it became time to leave. Harry steadied her as she stumbled her way to the Floo and once there she held on to his jacket tightly to keep herself upright.
"You made tonight not suck," she slurred with a goofy grin. "It sucked, but then you made it not. So thank you."
With drunken strength she yanked him forward by his jacket and smashed his mouth to hers.
Warm, soft lips moved against his own and while the kiss was sloppy and wet it was not any less enjoyable. Harry leant into it and gripped her tightly around the waist, returning the kiss with vigour. In response she relaxed bonelessly in his arms until he was practically carrying her.
When they finally came up for air she rested her head on his chest before clumsily putting her weight back on her feet. "Ish nice," she mumbled before peering up at him through her eyelashes.
"Nobody home but me. Wanna come?" She tried to waggle her eyebrows but in her drunken state nodded her head in the same movement. She stopped and frowned. "Wasn't right."
Harry swallowed thickly. "That sounds fun," he croaked, blushing brightly but caring a little less than he used to after doing so all evening.
Still... she was obviously drunk, wouldn't that be taking advantage of her?
Not giving him time to think Amanda smiled widely and turned away from him to throw a little powder in the fire, causing the flames to crackle a merry green. In a whoosh she was sucked into the fireplace and the green flames turned red once more.
Open-mouthed Harry stared. There was no way he could possibly have caught the address she had slurred into the rushing fireplace with her back to him. Without an address there was no way for him to follow.
Maybe she would come back?
A few minutes of awkward anticipatory waiting later Harry slumped his shoulders. She wasn't coming back. Typical.
He was a little sad, but to be honest she had been way out of his league. Instead of moping he should look back on this as a fun evening. And who knows, maybe he would meet her again some day.
With a little bounce in his step he made his way to the door.
"Hey, Harry," Rosie called after him, making him pause. "Your friend didn't pay her tab before she left. That'll be three galleons and seventeen sickles, please."
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If you're eager to delve deeper into the story, consider joining my Patreon for exclusive content and early access to new chapters
50+Advanced Chapters there.
(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)
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