A feeble ray of sunlight lit up the Ballroom. Witches and Wizards lay drunk on the floor. A few of them sat in armchairs which surrounded a magnificent emerald table. Clothes and bottles of Firewhiskey were strewn all over the floor.
The chairs which surrounded the emerald table were empty. All except for one.
A young man with black hair and glasses was sitting on the huge maroon chair. He threw a filthy look at a pretty girl with black hair and went back to brooding over a glass of Firewhiskey. He held the glass tighter.
A zap went through him. A connection. A sign that the glass wanted him.
Harry stared.
This was stupid. Utterly ridiculous. He ought to tell his mum!
Harry looked over to a woman with red hair who was resting on a mans lap. Like his mother was better than him, Harry thought.
Harry went back to his glass of Firewhiskey. He tentatively took a sip and leaned back into his chair. The feeling was indescribable. He moaned into his glass.
Everyone stared. Even Cho. She looked at him as if he was a rather nasty jar of peanut butter and went back to stroking her Prom Queen crown. Harry grinned. He knew it. He'd been drinking this stuff for years..and he never knew that this piece of glorious liquid would be his soul mate.
He kissed the glass and moaned again. The lady with red hair came up to him.
"Harry...the Nutella is over" she said, anxiously. Everyone gasped.
Not the Nutella! It couldn't be...the Nutella was probably the best thing Mum had ever got from the Muggle world! He gulped.
He couldn't leave Firewhiskey. Not now. Not when he knew he loved her.
Little did Harry know that he would have to go through years of angst and drama to find his true love...Firewhiskey or Nutella?