Curiousity Killed the Cat

The next thing I saw, was the familiar hallway or Grimmauld Place.

“Thank you, Kreacher. You saved me back there,” I said, feeling grateful for him, probably the only time in my life. He hurried off, leaving me to head into the kitchen, looking like hell. Mind you, I was in that God-forsaken dress, covered in blood with a hell of a lot of injuries.

I opened the door and nearly had a heart attack when I saw I wasn’t alone.

“Elyse?!” Hermione said, looking at me, then at my current state. “What the hell happened!?”

“I dunno, when were you planning on telling me you were going to leave?” I snapped, walking, well, limping over to the cabinet where I always kept some sort of alcohol. Sue me, my life sucks.

“Who’s there?” a voice, which I matched to Ron, said, coming from the staircase.

“Harry didn’t want to tell you…” Hermione said, nervously, looking away from me.

“Well, thanks to his heroic efforts, I was put though hell!” I snapped, taking a long swing of the alcohol, sighing as it hit the back of my throat. Ron and Harry came into the kitchen, wands a ready, and gasped when they saw me.

“Elyse?” Harry said, looking at my bloodstained dress.

“Mr. Hero himself! Tell me, baby, when were you going to tell me that you and these two were going to vanish?” I said, the alcohol taking its effect quicker than I would have expected.

“Are you drinking?” Ron asked, eyeing the bottle in my hand.

“Who the hell cares? I just had Malfoy feel me up, I deserve a drink. Or perhaps a bath,” I said, taking another large sip.

“What!?” Harry choked.

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I should explain or maybe I’ll keep you out of the loop like you did with me!”

“Elyse, what the hell happened?” Hermione asked, the only one convinced about my injuries.

“Lets see,” I said, tapping my chin. “In case you forgot, you grabbed onto me before you Apparated after the wedding. I was the cat that you shooed away, for your information. Then, I was grabbed and shoved into a bag and brought to the Malfoy’s place where I was beaten, trying to get information out of me!”

“The black cat…” Ron muttered, the memory coming back to him.

“And then, about ten minutes ago, Draco Malfoy came into that dudgeon and I was lucky enough to have to seduce him in order to get his wand,” I said, already finished with one bottle. I grabbed another one from the cabinet, taking a large gulp of the liquid courage.

“They beat you?” Harry said, his mouth agape.

“Story time’s over. Hermione, seeing as I am half-way drunk and bleeding, would you mind?” I said, gesturing to my bruised and broken body.

“Er, sure,” she said, still confused about this whole situation. I suddenly felt my body begin to get strong as she healed me. I didn’t see any bruises and/or blood so I figured I was good enough to lash out on these three.

“Thank you,” I said to Hermione before glaring at Harry.

“Er, I think you should stop drinking,” Ron said, somewhat frightened of the drunken state I was in.

“Oh, boo hoo. It’s not my first time I got wasted,” I said, taking another swing of my drink.

“Come on, it’s late,” Harry said, walking over to me and took the bottle from my hand. I might have had a chance getting it back if he was a foot and a half shorter, but he was taller than me and lifted the bottle up high, out of my reach.

“Jerk,” I said, glaring at him. I guess Harry was either fed up with me or really wanted to talk to me because he swung me over his shoulder, ignoring my protests, and carried me out of the kitchen and upstairs to a spare room.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

I rolled my eyes and laid on the bed. “Shut up. Just shut up.”

“Elyse, I didn’t want you to come. You could get hurt,” he said, starting with the whole discussion for the millionth time since I’ve seen him, actually, since I’ve met him.

“We’ve already established that I am hurt without the help of you,” I cut it, holding up my hand.

“Fine,” he snapped, causing me to raise an eyebrow and sit up to look at him. “We---Hermione, Ron, and I---have to do something for Dumbledore.”

“Your point?” I asked, lying back onto the bed, well at least I thought I did but I must have been too close to the edge because the next thing I know, I was having a moment with the floor.

“Yeah, come on you drunk,” Harry said, pulling me up.

“Malfoy kiss me, I needed to get wasted,” I whined, rubbing the back of my neck.

“About that,” he said, frowning a bit.

“Are you jealous?” I teased, a smile making its way on my face. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure he was wearing lip gloss.”

Harry grimaced. “Remind me never to kiss you again.”

I scoffed. “You’ll crack before I would.”

“No way.”

“Wanna bet on it?”

“Fine. If I kiss you before you kiss me I’ll…er,” Harry said, pausing to think.

“Have to swear you will never make fun of my socks ever,” I said, pouting.

“Fine but if you cave first then… you have to never wear those socks again,” he said, smirking.

Why does he hurt me so?

“Deal."

Day one:
This is so easy. I’m going to win.

Day two:
Certainly didn’t help that I walked in on him changing his shirt. Still going strong.

Day three:
I refuse to cave, I refuse to cave. God damn him!

Day four:
I am going to cave soon, I am going to cave soon.

Day five:

I walked into the kitchen, surprised to find Harry in there, seeing as it was nearly midnight and Ron and Hermione had already left for bed. I grabbed a butterbeer (Harry had taken out all of the alcohol in the house. Bastard) and sat down next to him, resisting the urge to kiss him.

“Ready to cave?” Harry asked, noticing my discomfort.

“The ones with more control always go first,” I said, taking a sip of my butterbeer. I put my bottle down and glanced at Harry who was staring at me. “What?”

“You are so gonna cave,” he said smugly, before going back to his food. I pondered this for a moment before swinging my leg over his lap, evidently straddling him.

“Am I?” I asked, leaning in close to him. I could feel him beginning to get uncomfortable as I inched closer to him, fighting with myself.

Now, it was just a matter of who kisses who first.

I guess Harry must have thought that it was easy to not diss my socks because, about a second before I was about to cave, he crashed his lips onto mine, thus making me the winner.

Of course, it had been a long time since I had last kissed him so that was the last thing on my mind at the moment.

I pressed myself against him as much as I could while we sat on a chair, but, like most things, I didn’t think it though that much. We were too deep in the kiss to notice the chair slowly tipping back until…

CRASH!

“That is so not embarrassing,” I muttered, looking down at Harry. “I won, by the way.”

Yes, we tipped the chair while making out.

Don't judge.