EoMEoTE #9:The morning after

Harry couldn't believe how much his head was pounding. Last night had been an absolute blinder. It was only supposed to be a couple of social butterbeers, and then somehow they turned into butterscotches and inevitably everything ended up in a sticky mess from there.

Sticky mess. Sticky mess. Dear god. Harry wracked the dark recesses of his memory. He remembered talking, drowning in those gorgeous sooty eyes, leaning in and no, he hadn't had he?

Harry's eyes flicked open as he quickly glanced beside him. Phew. Noone next to him. He was in his own flat. No discarded clothing he didn't recognise. Relief tinged with disappointment.

"There you are darling! Rise and shine. It's gone past nine."

Harry winced. It was true. He really had had the night of his life. His wildest dreams had come true. The love of his life had succumbed. He couldn't decide if he should grin and risk irritating the little man busy hammering inside his head.

"I... I..." Harry's throat was parched.

"Don't say a word until you've eaten the best fry-up in town. You must have a monster hangover. This is the best cure for it. Guaranteed."

Harry struggled into a sitting position as he watched the tray being set down on the beside table. Scrambled eggs. Bacon. Tomato. Toast. Isn't the oft-lauded way to a man's heart through his stomach?

He smiled gratefully as he blinked back a tear. All those years under the staircase were worth it for this one pure moment.

"I'll be back in a sec with your cuppa tea. You get started on that. You need your energy. Last night was amazing."

Harry sighed with renewed memories as he watched Draco disappear down the corridor.

He grabbed his fork as he leaned over to pick up the plate.


The hangover fry-up: scrambled eggs, bacon, tomato, toast.

Submitted for the ninth edition of the End of Month Eggs on Toast Extravaganza: Prisoner of Frying Pan.

Check out Jeanne's wrap-up of all the Harry Potter themed entries, coming soon to CookSister!