Draco slammed down his shot glass, Pansy and Blaise's laughter roaring in his ears.
"Why are you heathens laughing? What is it that is so amusing about me?" He asked.
"Your hair is messed up, Drake. It's falling all over the place," giggled Pansy. "Well, your mascara is smeared." Pansy's hand flew to her mouth. "You take back!" "I only tell the truth, darling," answered Draco with a flamboyant wave of his hand, grin wide on his face.
"Relax, the both of you. I swear this is a combination made in hell," sighed Blaise. "Well then, I'd rather go back to hell than go to work tomorrow. Apothecary Alkron is the devil incarnate. The potion he is having me brew is, frankly, ridiculously hard to brew, and this is coming from the top potions student in Hogwarts," whined Draco.
"Oh, shut up Drake," Blaise stood up. "I think it's time for me to go. We do have work tomorrow, not that you would care." "We'll be fine Blaise," said Draco haughtily, "right Pans?"
Pansy swirled her martini. "Yeah, yeah. Go ahead and be boring Blaise. Draco and I shall remain and have fun without you." "Amen to that." Draco slammed another shot as Blaise disapparated out of the bar.
"Demons from hell my ass," huffed Draco. "I'll show him a demon. Diabolus sit fugere ab inferno sint et ministrent mihi, et consequi mei honoris causa in ira et dolor meus inimicos!"
"That was the longest incantation I have ever heard," snorted Pansy. "It's probably complete bullshit, too."
Draco closed the front door to his apartment and collapsed against it. Sliding onto the floor, he put his throbbing head in his hands. Hangover potion might have gotten him sober and calmed the raging hangover, but it couldn't prevent all the symptoms. Draco sighed and closed his eyes, hoping that would help.
Dark laughter sounded from the general direction of his living room. Draco's head snapped up, and he stood on trembling legs, walking toward the room.
"Oh fuck off Blaise. I thought you went home, something about work and sleeping and all that other responsible adult bullshit."
"He probably did. I can't be sure though, as I don't know who this 'Blaise' you speak of is," said a foreign voice just as Draco walked into the living room, where a stranger was slouching in his favorite armchair.
"Who in the name of all that is holy are you, and why the fuck are you in my house?" asked Draco.
"Oh, that's easy. I'm the demon you summoned earlier. Call me Harry."