Title: Staying Sober

Author: SkoosiePants

They’d ended up at the Three Broomsticks, since it was relatively easy to find it nearly empty on a Friday night. Neville was all smiles, chatting up Zabini’s younger brother, Hock. Seamus and Dean were deep in a dangerous game of darts, their aim more than a little off. Harry was flirting shamelessly with Madame Rosmerta. Various Slytherins were milling around, looking shifty, and Snape was scowling himself into a stupor in the corner.

Ron was highly amused, and close to comatose.

It’d been a brilliant idea, he thought, to start drinking early in the afternoon. Nothing like a binge to get you ready for a wedding. A wedding that involved the unholy union of a Gryffindor to a Slytherin. And then the seas of Hell would cover the earth in fire and lava.

Ron giggled, which made him think he was even more shit-faced than he’d assumed, and then spotted a certain evil Slytherin lurking, bleary-eyed, at the bar. The thought of Ginny and Malfoy together had never ceased to make him... insanely angry. However, he was more afraid of Ginny’s temper than he’d ever admit, so he’d recently been making an effort to be civil to the man. No time like the drunken present to bury the broadsword.

"Malfoy," Ron slurred, waving his hand, “c’mere.”

The blond blinked at him slowly and took another pull at his beer. "What?"

"C'mere," Ron said again.

Malfoy moved forward and slumped into the chair next to him, eying him warily. "Weasel."

"Malfoy," Ron's voice dipped down low, "I jus’ wanted to tell you that, e’en though Gin's mad about you," he hiccuped, "I really hate you. I mean... really. Hate you."

The evil git’s smirk was slightly sloppy, and looked suspiciously like a grin. "I hate you, too, Weasel,” he said. “With all my heart."

It almost brought a tear to Ron's eye, the adamancy of Malfoy’s reply, and he threw an arm companionably about the other man’s shoulders.

And then his chair toppled over and he landed with an “oof” and a pained groan, the chair rungs digging into his back.

Harry loomed over him, laughing. "You were getting a mite too comfortable with Malfoy, mate."

"Thanks," Ron managed.

Zabini appeared at Harry’s shoulder and leant down to help him up. “Glad to see you aren’t fighting, at least.”

“Give us a few hours,” Malfoy drawled.

Ron climbed to his feet, placing his palms on Harry and Zabini’s shoulders. The room was spinning just a bit. Not enough to alarm him, but enough to make him wish he was currently back on the ground. He blinked at Malfoy. “How the bloody hell can you still drawl when you’re drunk?”

“I’m not drunk,” Malfoy stated blandly.

“Not drunk,” Ron echoed incredulously. He whirled his head towards Zabini. “He says he’s not drunk. D’you think he’s drunk?”

“I believe that you’re drunk,” Zabini said with smirk.

Ron rolled his eyes. “No shit, Zabini. I jus’ had my arm around Malfoy.” Ron grimaced. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“I’m tipsy,” Malfoy offered, now staring down the throat of his beer bottle.

“Tipsy? Tipsy?” Ron chuckled. “Girls get tipsy, Malfoy.”

“Fine,” he shrugged. “I’m moderately buzzed, then. Slightly blurry around the edges. Happy.”

“Happy?” Harry sputtered, followed by a deep and very un-Harry-like guffaw.

“Malfoy is most definitely drunk,” Zabini declared. “He gets vociferous when he’s over imbibed.”

“Voci-whaterous? Imbibed?”

Zabini held out his hands, palms up. “I’ve stayed sober to take care of you lot,” he explained.

“Not acceptable,” Harry stated. “Madame, four shots of goldschlager, m’dear,” he shouted over to the bar.

“Really, Potter, it’s not necessary. I’m planning on being coherent tomorrow.”

“Nonsense,” Harry pressed. “You hafta get pissed at your bachelor party. It’s the law.”

“Oh yes, Potter. It’s the law,” Malfoy sniggered.

"Stuff it, Malfoy," Ron growled.

The blond gave him a derisive sneer. "Make me, Red."

"Oh, isn't that cute," Zabini cut in, grinning at Harry. "He's given him a pet name."

Malfoy glared at him. "If it wasn't your last day of freedom, I'd take offense at that. And," he added, "I didn't give it to him. Gin's shortened that dreadful 'Red Beard' name he took on years ago. It was out of habit."

"Methinks he protests too much," Zabini said archly.

Harry grinned back. "They have a passionate love-hate relationship and their fire cannot be quenched."

Ron blanched. "Now I really am gonna be sick."

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