Title: Wassail, Round 2
Author: Constant Vigilance
Status: FIN
Email: tirel@pcnuthut.com

Website: https://www.angelfire.com/tv2/firebird_ascending/
Rating: PG
Pairing: H/D
Spoilers: None. AU 7^th year.
Warnings: Slash, drunkenness, smiling Snape
Disclaimer: I own nothing. JKR is God.
Summary: The morning after.
Notes: Written for The Hexfiles December Challenge. 500 words using ‘wassail’, ‘charm’, and ‘solstice.’

 

Next morning, Draco found himself sitting once again in front of Leo. With a small smile, he traced the whorls, thinking of the plans he had today with his own Leo. As if Draco's thought had cast a summons, Harry poked his head into the Great Hall. When he saw Draco sitting at the Slytherin table he smiled. He trotted over to take the seat he’d occupied the night before.

 

“Morning, Draco,” he said, filling up a plate with a few sausages and some toast. Draco nodded and tucked into his own plate of eggs and ham. After eating, they pushed their plates away and watched as, one by one, their professors staggered into the Great Hall for their own breakfasts.

 

“They look like crap, don’t they?” Draco murmured with a snicker.

Harry grinned and nodded. “Did you see the scorch marks on the Gryffindor table?” he pointed his chin that direction. Draco sat up a bit to get a better look and quickly sat back down, his own chin quivering in suppressed laughter.

 

McGonagall directed a halfhearted glare in their direction but the entrance of one very nauseated potions professor distracted them. Neither could remember ever Snape looking so green before. His hair hung limply around his pale face and he had the posture of a man who had spent the better part of the morning hunched over.

 

Harry waited until the ill man had seated himself and then stood with his pumpkin juice in hand. “Professor Snape!” he called. When Snape glanced sourly in the Gryffindor’s direction, Harry smirked. “Wassail, sir!” Snape's green tinge was immediately enhanced and he rose quickly. He nearly ran out of the Hall hand firmly over his mouth.

 

Harry collapsed back down in his seat, his laughter mingling with Draco's.

 

“You’re a right Slytherin bastard when you want to be, Potter,” Draco chortled. “Course, you’d think the potions professor would think to take a hangover potion the next morning.”

 

“Or cast a sobriety charm the night before,” Harry added.

 

Draco looked horrified. “What’s the point of charming yourself sober after going to all the trouble and expense of getting drunk?”

 

Harry looked thoughtful, then nodded. “Good point. I wonder how long the ‘Solstice Celebration’ lasted last night?”

 

Draco snickered. “ I heard Snape stumbling around in the dungeon around 2 a.m.” He leaned back. “You ready to fly, Gryffindor?”

 

Harry nodded and they headed out the side entrance. As they moved through the door, Harry placed a hesitant hand on Draco's arm. The blonde looked curiously at Harry and his flushed face. With a sudden thought, Draco glanced up…to see the mistletoe from last night. When he brought his head down again, Harry was there to drop a shy kiss on Draco's lips.

 

At that, the Gryffindor moved off down the hallway at a fast trot. Draco ran a bit to catch up and they headed out onto the pitch together; their pink cheeks having nothing to do with the cold winter air.