Disclaimer: Screw it. I don't own anything.
A/N: I know it's taken me about 30 years to update. But I do have a life and sometimes it likes to get in the way and prevent me from being productive…
Harrys and Fairies
"Jinkle bellsh, jinkle bellsh, jinkle all the waaaay!"
"You're smashed, Gin."
"Yesh. I see lots of Harrys!"
"There's only one, I promise."
"Maybe you should give me that bottle."
"Noooooo! It's my stage prop."
"Ginny, give it to me."
"Look at me dance, Harrys!"
"Oooh, look! It's Mr. Crookyshankers! Come to Ginny!"
"Is she okay?"
"What do you think Hermione? She just tripped over Crookshanks and knocked her head!"
"Misty fog. Foggy mist."
"What did she just mumble?"
Inside Ginny's Head
Oooooh. Fog. I like fog. It's really…fog like.
I really must be dreaming. I have to be.
Oh, Merlin! What if I've fallen into some sort of alternate reality? Where everything is alternate?
I hope my alternate self isn't fat and alone! Or incredibly crabby!
What if my alternate self is dating that git Malfoy? Ack!
Bollox! Crap! Shite! Bollox!
Hold on a tick. I feel skinny. I'm still hilariously amusing.
And I still loathe Malfoy.
Crap. Is that me standing over there?
Is that Harry? Is that me and Harry? Standing. Over there?
I really am wasted…
The Drunken Conversation
"Ginny, you're drooling. All over."
"I'm the only one standing here."
"Nos. There's a lot of you. Staring at me. Just staring."
"Maybe we should talk later. When you're more coherent."
"That is a very nice fairy you have sitting on your shoulders."
"Gin! What have you been drinking?"
"Lots. I've been drinking lots. I've been aloney and sad these days."
"Oh. I see."
"I'm glads you ended it. I am."
"I've been meaning to talk to you about that…."
"Shhh. Don't speak. I'm trying to listen to the fairies."
"There are no fairies, Ginny."
"You shoulds know, Harrys! They are sitting on your many shoulders!"
"I'm going to sober you up now!"
"Please don't. I like being not so sober. Pissed is fantastically amazingly grandishingly…..nice."
"I think we should get back together."
"Wash? Harrys, what do means?"
"Never mind. This is useless. You're trashed. You're not going to remember this conversation."
"Your corrects, Harrys."
"You're not listening to a word I'm saying!"
"The fairies are singing a songs, Harrys. I like it."
"Oh, for the love of Merlin!"
"Sing fairies! Sings!"
"You're cute when you're pissed."
"Yesh. I knows it."
Back Iniside Ginny's Head
That was all? What in the name of Lucifer was I on?
Why did Harry say all those cryptic things?
We DID NOT agree on anything!
Oooooh, that minx!
I'm pretty sure I'm wasted now and in a slight comma.
But if I ever remember this, I'm giving him the silent treatment!
Wait. Why is the fog leaving? Stay! Damn you fog!
"Gin, can you hear me?"
"Blast! My head is bloody pounding!"
"You hit it pretty hard."
"Was I that pissed?"
"You tripped over Crookshanks."
"I knew I hated that cat! Remind me to torture him, when I'm feeling better."
"Why don't you get some rest. The party is just about over anyways."
"Harry? I had the weirdest dream."
"You weren't using your jedi mind powers on pirates again, were you?"
"No. It was just foggy. Lots and lots of unnaturally tainted fog."
"Fog? You dreamed of fog?"
"Is that not normal, then?"
"No, not really. Just get some rest and feel better. Night, Gin."
"Good night, Harry."
Thank Merlin for hangover potions.
So before I got pissed off of my arse, I remember quite a few interestingly fantastic things that happened.
So before Fred and George handed me my own personal bottle of Firewhiskey, I had been minding my own business.
Snogging Harry and the like.
Dad was going round doing some dance. Mum was even a little tipsy. And the party had only been officially going on for 12 minutes.
Unofficially the booze had been flowing for about 2 hours.
Bed….doing the usual….
Unlce Alastor brought along one of his new mannish looking "friends" called Sylvia.
Sylvia brought along her own alcohol and razor, so she could shave her beard.
She nipped off to the loo once every hour, so you couldn't notice all the stubblies.
I want to say that Uncle Alastor was under the influence when he picked her up.
At least I sodding hope he was. For his sake.
But I'm getting off topic. Again.
Besides Uncle Alastor and my already pissed parents, nobody else had reached the point of insanity.
Bed….resting my sore head…
Harry being the wise minx he is, decided against drinking himself into a tiny, drunken oblivion.
The same with Miss. Prissyboots.
But, us Weasleys' know how to down a keg and win a shot drinking contest.
It's in our genes and dates back like 3 billion years, or some rubbish like that.
If Fred and George hadn't given me so much alcohol, maybe I'd remember more of what went on.
I blame them for the state I'm in.
I'm SILL mourning the loss of Baby Jesus! I cannot be held responsible for my idiotic actions.
Oh, yes. Fred and George are surely in trouble with the prison warden now.
Fantastic power nap!
I'm so hungry I could eat a Hippogriff.
Maybe the sparks will fly at dinner?
Oh, they'll fly.
I LOVE being the innocent one!
"So Mum, what's for dinner?"
"Bangers and mash? Soup? Cheese shavings?"
"Who, Fred and George?"
"Bill and Fluer?"
"Well, then that leaves…"
"I'm so sorry, Gin."
"About 3 hours ago."
"Ginny, you aren't going to do anything rash are you?"
"You never know, mum."
"Why don't you go up to your room, and I'll bring you something to eat."
"Don't attempt to climb out the window."
"I'm not a git."
"And I'm locking your door. We do NOT need a repeat of what happened last time."
"Why did he have to go?"
"Because he has to, Gin. He has to."
A/N: Love it? Hate it? Want to throw stones at me because it's soooo late? Just simply, review!