A Sudden Moment of Clarity

Sometimes we take chances, sometimes we take pills

Fall Out Boy – 'Hum Hallelujah'

The Bitter End was an unusual pub. Run by a Squib, it had survived the Second Wizarding War despite being part of what Harry was coming to think of as the magical demi-monde, with one foot in the Wizarding world and one foot in Muggle London. Firewhiskey and Muggle scotch were sold side-by-side, and there was always Muggle rock music blaring through cheap electric speakers. There was even a tiny, sweaty dancefloor upstairs. It had weathered the storm of Voldemort's brief rule for much the same reason as the Hog's Head: there were plenty of people affiliated with the Ministry who appreciated the existence of a bar where nobody paid any attention to them, and where shady deals and drinking binges could be conducted in relative privacy.

It had seemed like the logical place to go when he left the flat after the talk with Ginny. He had needed to drink, and he hadn't felt able to talk to Ron and Hermione, who were settling into blissful cohabitation, so he had decided to go to the Bitter End, where nobody would care if the famous Auror Potter was drinking alone in Muggle attire.

Or at least, that had been the plan. Unfortunately, when he arrived at the pub there were several familiar faces there. Horace Slughorn and Hagrid were sitting in the corner drinking mead and loudly discussing a plan to get rich by writing a trashy romantic novel about a poor-but-handsome dragon breeder and a posh pure-blood girl. Harry had been trying to politely ignore them. The presence of George Weasley was more troubling. Admittedly, he was asleep in the corner and therefore not causing any immediate problems, but Harry didn't fancy having to explain to Ginny's brother exactly why he was sitting on his own in a shady pub trying to give himself liver poisoning.

He sighed, and stood up to go to the bathroom. His peripheral vision was a blur and the whole room was swaying slightly, but that was just a sign that he was still too sober to deal with the shit he'd just been put through. He blundered into the first cubicle he found and hoped he was still sober enough to aim. He was washing his hands and splashing his face when a familiar voice behind him made him jump.

"You do realise this is the girls' bathroom, Harry? Or the ladies'… I'm never sure which to say these days. Is one a girl or a lady when one is female and twenty-one?"

It was Luna, also dressed in Muggle clothes. He apologised hastily and made to leave, barging past her in his embarrassment, but she put her hand on his shoulder.

"Are you alright, Harry? Apart from your intoxication, I mean. Intoxication is perfectly fine, but you seem a little off."

He steadied himself on the doorjamb and tried to gather his thoughts. Luna was one of his oldest friends, after all, even if they didn't see as much of each other these days. He might as well tell her. She'd probably find out soon enough in the gossip pages of the Daily-fucking-Prophet, anyway.

"It's Ginny," he slurred. "Gin. My Ginny. She hasn't… well, she's been kind of withdrawn for a while. Not very affectionate. Things have been weird. Hell, you know we still have separate bedrooms in our flat? She sat me down this evening for a big talk. Turns out she's been having trouble since the war. Emotional trouble, psychi- psychia- oh, you know what I mean… all that kind of stuff. PTSD and shit. PTSD? Fuck, I could tell her some fucking stories on that score. You know what I hear when a fucking Dementor comes near me, right? But yeah, anyway… she apparently can't handle a relationship right now, let alone a relationship that's in the public eye. Not to mention the fact that being in a relationship with the-Boy-Who-Saved-Her-And-Family's-Arses-Too-Many-Times-To-Count reminds her of all the crap she's been through. So we're done, she ditched me. Apologetically, but thoroughly nonetheless."

Luna was silent for a moment, seemingly taking Harry's drunken rant in. Then she slipped her hand in his and pulled him over to a chair.

"That must be a lot to take in," she said, her expression inappropriately sunny. "How do you feel about all this?"

"I dunno, how the fuck am I supposed to feel? For six years, I've only had feelings for Ginny. I had a crush on her, then I was her boyfriend, then I was trying to fight a bloody war, always telling myself that if I survived I'd get to see her again. She was the last thing I thought of before Voldemort used the Killing Curse on me in the Forest, she was one of the first people I sought out after the battle. We started dating again, we moved in together, I got a job in the Auror Office, she has the Harpies. It felt like I could finally live a semi-normal life. And then this, out of fucking nowhere."

Luna nodded and patted his hand sympathetically, but she was still smiling vaguely. Normally he would have just put that down to Luna being Luna and tactfully ignored it, but he was drunk and hurt and pissed off, so he grunted "What's with the grin?" at her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm just… well. I'm rather relaxed. I have nightmares sometimes, about stuff that happened during the war. In Malfoy Manor, you know. A couple of years ago I found a solution. Muggle medicine. They're little tablets, I believe the term my contact used was "experimental antipsychotic drugs". They took the nightmares away, and I still use them from time-to-time when I'm very stressed or upset." She took a packet of pills out of her pocket. "Would you like one?"

Harry took a moment to consider her offer, gazing vacantly around the half-empty bar. As he tried to focus on something other than his own self-pity, the song coming through the speakers reached its chorus.

It feels like everything you want

and all you'll ever need

but once you've got it in your hands

it never means a thing

so you just keep on taking,

taking from me

until I'm sick and sore and empty

and you won't mean a thing

to me…

It fitted his mood, tired and bitter and slightly petulant. He reached a decision.

"Please," he nodded, holding out his hand.

It took a couple of minutes for the pills to kick in, but when they did he loved it. He felt like he was wrapped in pink cotton wool, floating just above his seat. Very carefully, he reached out and grasped Luna's hand. She grinned at him.

"See? Much better! Now, come along," she said, pulling him up.

"Where to?" he muttered, feeling a lazy grin stretch his lips.

"Home, of course!" she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"No, no, let's stay. Let's stay a little longer. Please? I'm enjoying being here with you, and I don't want to go back to that flat. Not tonight."

Luna stopped in her tracks and looked at him for a moment, her head tilted slightly to one side.

"Are you really enjoying yourself?" she asked curiously, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Is this cheering you up a little?"

Even with the cushioning effect of the pills, Harry was suddenly aware of how closely they were standing, their bodies virtually touching. His mouth felt suddenly dry and he was experiencing a rush of unfamiliar emotions and physical responses. It was like being sixteen again, and he wasn't sure why. He nodded.

Luna positively beamed.

"I'm very glad to hear that, Harry, because you know I do rather enjoy spending time with you. I will happily stay on with you for a bit longer, but on one condition."

"What's the condition?" he muttered, surprised at how shy he felt.

"Come upstairs, we're going to dance!"

The next few hours passed in a sweaty, drunken blur. Despite his initial reservations – he hadn't danced since the ill-fated Yule Ball back in 1994 – Harry soon found himself swept up by the loud music, the endorphins, and Luna's exuberance. He was just beginning to sober up when a slower song came on, something about returning home and having to leave again, and instinctively he pulled Luna towards him for the slow dance. He honestly hadn't known he had it in him to do that sort of thing, but the night was proving to be full of surprises, so he decided to go with the flow. By the time the song ended, Luna was right in leaning against his chest, looking up into his eyes, and with sudden clarity he realised that it felt right. As a slightly louder and faster tune struck up – without pausing for thought, as if he had meant to do it all along – he inclined his head and kissed her.

They drew apart after a few seconds, or perhaps a minute, and he could feel a shiver run through Luna's body.

"Come along," she said softly, taking his hand and pulling him towards the stairs, "we're leaving. But don't worry, Harry. You aren't going back to your flat tonight."

As they left the dancefloor, the song hit its middle-eight, and the quiet, barely-sung words lodged themselves in Harry's head as he stumbled out into the night and the future.

I'm down for

whatever

what's there left to wait for?

I'm down for

whatever

what's there left to wait for?

Wait for

I'll wait…

A/N: This was written for the Teachers' Lounge Adults Only Hard Fast And Loud Challenge, which was created by littlebirds. The challenge was to write something M-rated that contained at least two of the following: illicit mind-altering substances, sex, and music – or more specifically a song lyric of one's own invention. I hit two and implied the third, so I'm calling that a win. The first lyric quoted in the text ("It feels like everything you want…") is the one I wrote myself. It's an attempt to write a slightly silly emo lyric (this is set in 2002, guys). The lyric at the end is a good emo lyric, more specifically the middle-eight of 'Action & Action' by The Get Up Kids (please spare me the inevitable argument about whether or not they're an emo band, either way they're brilliant). It's not specified in the text, but the slow jam is 'A Movie Script Ending' by Death Cab For Cutie. Questionable Content fans may recognise the setup of this one-shot, which is based on the scene where Marten meets Hannelore while out drinking to cope with having had 'the talk' from Faye about why she can't date him.