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The Good, the Bad and the Drunk by Rylee
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The Good, the Bad and the Drunk

Rylee

The plow trucks came through at around two. "Should we try to get to the truck?" Hermione asked, craning her neck to look down the road from the window. "Or should we wait until tomorrow?"

"Today. Even if we just get it dug out and bring it back down here, I'd like to get it out today." She felt a little offended by the fact that Harry would pull his nose out of the book for the truck, when he hadn't done the same for her all morning.

She supposed she should forgive him for slighting her, considering they'd had only each other for company for several days now. Harry wasn't used to being cooped up, and he got cranky when he was bored.

She watched as he crossed the room to pull his coat on. "I hope Mr. Crispenson has some snow shovels. It's going to be hell if we have to dig it out with our hands."

They bundled up and borrowed some snow shovels from Mr. Crispenson, and headed out. Mrs. Crispenson had tried to tell them that they would need help, and insisted on having Mr. Crispenson go with them, but Harry had managed to talk her out of it, promising that they would stop and return to the inn if they were unable to get it out.

"Do you think it will start?" Hermione asked as they stepped out onto the road.

"Dunno," Harry muttered. "I hope so. I really would like to get out of here tomorrow."

She laughed, hooking her arm through his as they walked. "I don't know. I'm kind of fond of this place."

"Maybe, but we really should get on with it. Who knows, though? The truck might not start and we may be stuck here a few more days until we can get it fixed."

"At least we'll have a big, comfortable, warm bed to-sleep in." She wriggled her eyebrows at him and he grinned. "Because I could certainly use loads more-sleep."

"I've created a bloody monster."

Hermione glanced around in amazement at the piles of snow on either side of the road. Then, she gasped. "Oh, heavens! Is that the truck?"

Harry nodded. "I'm afraid so. Like I said, it's going to be hell."

"I'm thinking it's going to be impossible," Hermione sighed. "Without magic, I mean."

"We're not using magic to get it out, Hermione."

"Oh, come on, Harry. There's no one around to see. You know that I'm the first one to uphold the law, but it would be ridiculous to try to dig all that snow off of it when we can do it much more easily with a spell."

"Do whatever you like," Harry muttered. "I don't care."

Hermione walked around to the far side of the truck and started to cast warming spells. The snow was melting quickly, but there was entirely too much of it to make the job simple.

After twenty minutes of work, Hermione had managed to get a nice little path melted halfway up the side of the truck. She walked around to check on Harry and sighed. "Harry, it would be much easier to use the spell. Look at you, you're already wearing out and you've made no progress."

He turned to shoot her a look, then grunted. "All right. Fine. If it will make you happy, I'll do the damned spell."

She started to make a comment back, then thought better of it. For whatever reason, he was already grumpy. Getting snippy with him now would only make it worse. She moved back around to her side and started to work again.

It took another hour to melt enough snow to get the door open even a little bit. "How's it going, Harry?" she called, stopping to adjust her gloves. "Harry?" She went around the back of the truck and over to his side, frowning. "Harry, what's wrong?"

He glanced up at her from his spot on the ground. "Nothing. I'm fine. Are you done over there?"

"Almost. Harry, are you sure--?"

"I'm fine. Hurry up and get your side done so we can get out of here."

She huffed. "Fine. I'm going. You may want to get up though before you get frostbite on your arse."

She went around to finish her part of the job, getting enough snow out of the way to open the driver's door. "I'm done," she snapped. "Can we get out of here now?"

"I'm not stopping you."

He opened the passenger's door and climbed in, flopping almost-bonelessly into the seat. She climbed in beside him, frowning. "Harry, what-?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." He passed her the keys and slumped in his seat. "God, I hope this thing starts."

She slid the key into the ignition and, muttering a soft prayer under her breath, turned it. The truck coughed a few times, then roared to life. "Well, that's a miracle, isn't it?"

Harry didn't answer, and she noticed that he had started to shiver again. She drove them back to the inn, parked the truck and, despite Harry's insistence that he was fine, went around and helped him out. She started to wrap her arm under his, but he pulled away. "I'm fine," he muttered.

She trailed behind him as they walked back upstairs, wincing as he stumbled slightly on the stairs. She wasn't the least bit surprised when he collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep as soon as they were back in the room.

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Hermione ate dinner alone, sitting at the table and staring dully at the television. Her eyes would drift, ever so often, to Harry. He was still asleep, sprawled on the bed in much the same position he'd been in when he'd fallen there. She'd try to wake him, with no success, and she was now thinking maybe she should ask Mrs. Crispenson to call a doctor.

She stood and crossed to the bed, flopping down beside him. "Harry?" she said, running her hand over his cheek. "Come on, Harry, please wake up."

She knew enough about health, thanks to reading her parents medical bookswhen she was younger, to know that his heart rate and breathing were both pretty much normal. He didn't have a fever. She'd even pinched him just to make sure he would move. He had, but just barely. It really just seemed like he was physically exhausted, although she had no idea how he could become so worn out by shoveling snow, considering how physical his everyday job was.

She sighed, stretching out next to him. He didn't look sick; that was a good sign. He was a bit pale, maybe. Then again, that could have just been her imagination. She was trying not to worry too much. She'd seen him in worse shape than this. The incident when he fell off his broom in third year, for instance, or the time he'd been whacked in the head with a bludger in sixth. After he'd returned from the graveyard where Voldemort had been waiting for him---that one had been scary. And seventh year, of course, when he'd-

She sat up, frowning. He'd slept for a week. They'd not been able to find anything wrong with him. "Well, there must be something-," she muttered, climbing off the bed again, and reaching for a book.

She could almost hear his voice teasing her, "That's right, Hermione. Every answer comes from a book."

There was nothing else that she could do, though. She couldn't call a doctor. If this was magical, a Muggle doctor wouldn't be able to help him. And the healers hadn't found anything wrong with him either. She thought, briefly, of trying to find McGonagall, but it seemed silly. There was probably nothing anyone else could do that she couldn't.

She searched through her books and realized she had nothing that she would need here. "Damn," she muttered, tossing the last of her books back into her bag. She probably had something at home.

She glanced at Harry again, realizing that he most likely wouldn't be waking anytime soon. It wouldn't hurt, she figured, to Apparate home very quickly and grab what she needed. She'd be back before he awoke. Of that she was certain.

It took her only a moment to get back to her apartment, and a second longer to remember the wards and disable them before they could incapacitate her. She hurried to her shelves, grabbing an extra bag as she went, and started to load books in. When she had everything she thought she would need, she shut her eyes and focused on her destination. She was sure she'd been gone no more than ten minutes.

She apparated back to the inn quickly, dropping the bag on the floor and turning back toward the bed. She jumped when she realized that Harry was no longer the only one in the room.

"OH!" Mrs. Crispenson cried, dropping the dinner plate she was holding onto the floor. "Oh, dear, it's you! I'm so sorry, you frightened me! I didn't even hear you come in."

Hermione blushed, her eyes wide. "Oh, I'm sorry. I just-I had to run out to the truck for my-my bag!" She stuffed her wand quickly behind her back, running her hand through her hair. "What, um-what were you doing in here?"

"Well, I came up to get your dinner dishes. I shouldn't have let myself in, I know, but no one answered when I knocked, and there was no sign on the door, so I just-came on in. I was trying to be quiet about it, when I saw the young man there sleeping, but--." She frowned. "Odd that all this noise didn't wake him, isn't it? He must be quite a heavy sleeper."

Hermione nodded vigorously. "Yeah. He could-sleep through an elephant stampede." She laughed, but it was loud and forced.

Mrs. Crispenson gave her an odd look, then stepped a bit closer to the bed. "Are you sure he's all right, dear? He looks a bit peaky."

Oh shit, Hermione thought, chewing her lip. "Is he? I didn't notice."

"Well, that's odd, isn't it?" the woman said, peering at Harry. "He seemed quite all right earlier, didn't he? Maybe we should wake him up and see if he needs to see a doctor."

"No!" Hermione said quickly, then laughed softly. "Um, I mean-he's said he was just tired. I-I think he might have strained himself a bit trying to get the truck out earlier. He did most of the work, you know."

The woman continued to stare at her. "I don't know about you, dear, but I always take everything a man says with a grain of salt. I'd call a doctor if I were you. Of course, he'll likely bitch at you for it, you know how men are." She laughed at her own joke, leaning down to look at Harry one last time. "Hmm, odd scar he's got there on his forehead, isn't it? Anyway, I'll get out of your way. There's a doctor lives just down the road here. If he gets any worse, you just let me know and I'll get him down here right quick."

"I will, thank you," Hermione said, forcing a smile. She watched as the woman picked up her plates and glass and made her way out of the room, casting a last glance at Harry as she went. When she was finally out the door, Hermione sighed.

"Damn you, Harry. Sometimes you're more trouble than you're worth," she muttered, knowing she didn't mean a word of it.

She slumped down at the table with her bag and opened a book.

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"Hey, wake up." She stirred, flinching as her back gave a nasty throb.

"Ow," she muttered, trying to force her eyes open. "What--?"

She felt a hand smoothing her hair away from her face. "Are you all right?"

"Harry?" she mumbled, looking up at him blearily. "When did you wake up?"

"Around nine. You missed breakfast."

She winced again, stretching. "Ugh, my neck is stiff."

"Yeah, well, that's what you get for trying to sleep at the table. I put you to bed when I woke up, by the way, and you're welcome."

She sat up, glaring at him. "You had me scared to death, Harry. I was up half the night trying to figure out what was wrong with you!"

He frowned. "There's nothing wrong with me."

She gasped. "Like hell there isn't! Harry, you do realize that you slept sixteen hours straight, don't you? And not just slept-you were out cold! You just-passed out."

"I fell asleep, Hermione," he said, rolling his eyes. "Don't make a major issue out of this, all right?"

"Wha-How can you say that? Sixteen hours isn't just a nap, Harry! Aren't you even-wait. You know what's wrong, don't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he snapped, shaking his head. "I'm fine. You're trying to make something out of nothing."

She watched in shock as he grabbed his bag from the floor and went into the bathroom. "Oh, no. No, you aren't getting away with this one. What aren't you telling me, Harry?" she demanded, climbing out of bed and following him.

He was packing away his toiletries, his back to her. "There's nothing going on, other than you panicking over absolutely nothing. Are you going to just stand there or are you going to get cleaned up and packed, because I really want to get out of here sometime today."

She huffed, grinding her teeth. "Fine. If you don't want to talk about it, fine." She stormed back into the bedroom and pulled her bag out, digging for some clothes. "I'm just worried about you, Harry! You know it isn't normal for a person to take a sixteen hour nap. You have to know that!"

"You're worrying about nothing," he called back. "I was just tired. Is it against the law to be tired?"

"You're lying," she growled. "I know you're lying."

She almost jumped when he came over to her and wrapped his arms around her. "Hermione, listen. I'm not lying to you. I'm fine." She straightened up almost involuntarily, putting her hands over his and leaning back into his chest. He walked them over to the bed and sat down, pulling her onto his lap. "You know, I think maybe we've just been pinned up together for too long. We're getting on each other's nerves." She started to argue, but he put his fingers gently on her cheek, turning her to face him. "Can you honestly tell me that I'm not getting on your nerves?"

She hesitated, then sighed. "All right, maybe a little."

He grinned. "That's what I thought. I was thinking maybe we should go see Ron, and when we're done there, just go back to London. Then, if we need some space, we've got it. And if we don't, well-you know where I live, right?"

She laughed softly. "Yes, and you know where I live. You're probably right." She leaned in and kissed him gently. "Are you ready to see Ron, then?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," he laughed. "I'm not looking forward to it, if that's what you mean, but-I'll do what I have to. I just hope he forgives me."

She nodded, running her fingers through his hair. "I do too." They sat like that for a few more minutes before she sighed again. "Well, I guess I should get packed then, hmm?"

"Yeah. Me too."

With one last kiss, she stood and started putting her things back in her bags.

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*Grins* So, there you have it. :D They're on their way to Ron's. And I have that chapter, with all its Ron-goodness already finished. But, I can't give it to you just yet. No, that would be way too easy. :lol:

To HarrynHermoine4eva: You still rock! :D Glad to have your help! I'll make sure that, when the tomatoes come, they hit me and not you! *snigger*