I flipped this way and that, trying to find a position where I'd be comfortable enough to sleep. So far, nothing worked. Why did all of my plans haveto blow up in my face?

((hey im back sorry i was watching the opening ceremony for the olympics last nite and busy thins morning so what did i miss))

((Aside from Harry puking up his butterbeer? Not much. Also, it seems we have a new rule: No getting kidnapped and expecting Harry to save you))

((Yup, Either don't get kidnapped or save yourself..but not getting kidnapped at all would be best))

((ok that works cause that means more people could die so where do u want me to start))

((Well, I'm trying to sleep off my hangover in the common room, which isn't working too well. Clarice is down here as well, keeping an eye on me))

((ok ill come down with cloths and a bucket of water)) hey harry *dunk 1 of the cloths under the water and puts them on on his forhead* just rest ok dont try to move or anything

"That's kind of hard when my feet are dangling off the end of the couch and the arm is digging into my shins," I snarked.

well then *makes the couch turn into a bed* is that better

"A bit. It's still too short. Last time Madam Pomfrey measured, I was six-one." Ugh, my head. I am NEVER drinking that much butterbeer again. Maybe one on a Hogsmeade weekend, but that's it.

((Wow Harry is six-one? My character is taller than Harry sooo that's pretty tall))

((Here he shot up a bit sooner than in the books. I just took a guess. Besides,I had to have him at a height where the couch isn't comfortable, so there we go.
Either way, he's not Dan))

ok well *makes it longer* better?

"Loads. Thanks. If you ever see me with a butterbeer outside of a Hogsmeade weekend, smack it out of my hand."

whatever i; try actually ill let u drink 1 or2 but no more

"Thanks. I can't really remember how many I had tonight, or, well, anything."

oh let me think 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12 probably 12 so ur gonna have a major headache if u dont take this *hand harry a couple blue pills* they're for hangovers

I sat in the corner and glared at ((idk Anna? idk)). I wanted her back in bed. I wanted her to leave Harry alone. I was fine. He was fine. I almost wanted to grab her by the wrists and make her leave. Leave until I calmed down. But I was never good at that sort of thing.

"Thanks." I tossed down the pills. I twisted around to look at Clarice. Her blurred shape seemed tense. Isquinted, trying to bring her into focus. "Clarfice? You ok?"

I flinched, coming back from my million-miles-away stare. "Hmm? Oh, yeah, I'm f-fine." I answered.

"You don't sound fine." I was pretty sure I knew exactly what I'd never say when sober, and what came out of my mouth next was top if the list. "You can sleep here with me, if you want. There's enough room."

That caught me off guard, I'll admit. But I was sure if I asked "really?" or did something I would regret, I would hate myself forever. He probably would hate me forever too. So I cautiously crawled in with him. In general, I hated touching people. I was so nervous someone would turn around and yell at me if I accidentally touched their elbow with mine. I especially didn't like sleeping with other people. When my family and I used to go hiking, and we slept in our tents, I made sure I was on on the end so I only had to come in contact with one person. Plus, I was so nervous that I would end up shoving everyone out of the tent if I did sleep in the middle of everyone.

I smiled as she crawled into the Transfigured bed. I even held the blankets open for her. Merlin, what's wrong with me? Of course, I wasn't very experienced in the realm of human contact. In fact, for most of my life, the only physical contact I've ever had was being beaten by the Dursleys. Nobody, not even Dumbledore, knew about that. Yet I was pretty sure it was obvious when Iflinched every time someone pat me on the back or hugged me.

I took up as little room as I could and didn't look at him. Not that I was mad, of course. I just wasn't completely comfortable with this whole situation. I even pulled my legs up close to my body. Damnit, why was I so antisocial?

I stretched out and rolled so I faced Clarice. It would get pretty cold once the house elves put out the fire, so I yanked the blanket all the way uup to my chin before letting myself drift off.

((Where are we in the story?))

((it would take me too long to explain everything. but the yule ball is done. you might want to go back a few pages. also, read my caps lock rants. freaking scared spellpatronus away.))
I made myself get a little bit more comfortable and sighed. I hated being so antisocial and awkward. Harry was already asleep. That too. It took me ages to fall asleep, and even longer to fall asleep in front of someone.

((Don't forget that Harry got himself drunk))
I dreamed I was on my Firebolt, soaring over the Quidditch pitch. It wasn't a match, or practice, and I wasn't going anywhere. I was just flying, enjoying the freedom it gave me, allowing myself to forget about Voldemort and my fame. Flying let me be a normal kid. I cuddled deeper in the blankets and closer to Clarice, smiling in my sleep.

I thought, I don't care. Honestly, he's drunk and we're both tired and had a great night at the Yule Ball. I relaxed and got into my natural sleeping position. Better.

((Who do you want me to be? I could create a new person or something?))

((You could do a canon character. That way you don't have to create someone totally new))
The next morning, I woke up slowly. Thinking I was in my four-poster up in the boys' dormitory, I stretched out my arms in front of me, yawning widely.
((He's got serious mornning breath))

((I'll do Bellatrix. I could do Neville.))

It was like someone set off a stink bomb right in my face. I gagged and turned away from Harry.
"Bloody hell, Harry! Your breath is toxic!" I hissed.

"Huh?" I blinked slowly, then squinted against the bright light. "Whuzzgoinon?"
((I am seriously laughing at that))

((omg me too!))
"I mean...Wha? Oh. You had to crash here. Wicked hangover. Sorry. I crashed here too. Sorry." I explained.

Seamus Finnigan- Your breath stinks, Potter! Everyone can smell it. *Seamus pinched his nose in disgust and used his left hand to whiff the smell away.*

I walked down the stairs yawning, I heard someone yell, "Bloody hell!" And I just had to come and see what was happening.
"You guys slept down here all night?" I said as I stretched.

I scowled at Seamus. Can't the bloody prat leave me alone? "It's fine. I don't mind." Do I tell her about the Dursleys and never really being loved,ir do I keep quiet?

I was seriously going to hide under the covers if I caught one more whiff of Harry's breath.
"Your breath...is honestly poisonous," I giggled.

Neville wakes up from his slumber. He puts his dressing robs on, and made his way to the common room. As Neville opened the door, he is overcome by a stench that overpowered his nose.
"Hey Harry, who farted?" Neville asked, covering his nose. "Oh no, I missed The Yule Ball."

"So, to kill Voldemort, I just have to do this." I breathed on her.

Neville walked down the stairs, covering his nose with a dishcloth. He smiled Harry and began to laugh.
"Bloody hell, it stinks down here. I'm definitely sure, it wasn't me." Neville said in amusement.

I shrieked and covered my face with my hands.

"Nah, it's just my morning breath." I started laughing. "And you thought all these years that Ron farted in his sleep."

"Very funny," I said, but not before having a fit of laughter and getting embarassing hiccups.

Seamus Finnigan- You got drunk, didn't you Potter!
Neville- Shut up, Seamus! *Neville sighed* So, what did I miss?

"He did-hiccup get dr-hiccup drunk, you-hiccup ass!" I shot at Seamus.

Neville scowled at Seamus.
"Seamus is just mad because he wasn't sorted into Slytherin" Neville said with a teasey smile.

I couldn't help myself. "Or he's just jealous that I'm taller than him."

My mouth made an "o", and the room was silent. I didn't even hiccup. Seamus gave Harry a death stare.
((you can continue....i dont wanna ruin it))