Harry Potter and the Snog Aftermath
Harry was singing. Maybe not fully singing, because he did not know all the words to "A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love," but he knew a few here and there. He had picked up enough of the melody over the years, at least, to be able to hum along loudly, mumbling where there should have been lyrics.
It was just so good of a night, he didn't care.
His lips felt rather numb to be honest, but he would swear that he they still tasted like Kate and that was why he kept licking them, not a vague sense of dehydration. Kate, Kate, Merlin's pants, he'd snogged Kate. And hadn't made a fool of himself and hadn't made her cry and it seemed like she wanted to do it again sometime.
It was the best night ever.
Stumbling, Harry hit the door of the hut with his shoulder, then tried the knob, then hit it with his shoulder again until some combination of the two resulted with him stumbling indoors, still mumble-humming.
"I'll boil you up some hot, strong love to.. to keep-- Bollocks. ROOOOON!"
He needed to know how the rest of that song went.
It was just so good of a night, he didn't care.
His lips felt rather numb to be honest, but he would swear that he they still tasted like Kate and that was why he kept licking them, not a vague sense of dehydration. Kate, Kate, Merlin's pants, he'd snogged Kate. And hadn't made a fool of himself and hadn't made her cry and it seemed like she wanted to do it again sometime.
It was the best night ever.
Stumbling, Harry hit the door of the hut with his shoulder, then tried the knob, then hit it with his shoulder again until some combination of the two resulted with him stumbling indoors, still mumble-humming.
"I'll boil you up some hot, strong love to.. to keep-- Bollocks. ROOOOON!"
He needed to know how the rest of that song went.