Harry Potter Book 7

Harry shotgunned the rest of his Felix Felicis. "Tonight," he said, wiping his mouth, "I'm gettin' lucky."

The next morning, Harry stumbled down into the Gryffandor common room. "Don't talk," he told Ron, "I got a wicked hangover. I need some Jack. No, give me the whole bottle."

"Blimey! What happened?" asked Ron as he handed over a fifth of whiskey.

"Your sister happened," said Harry. "Twelve times."

Hermoine joined them moments later. "I can't remember anything from last night," she said rubbing her head, "And why did I wake up in your bed Harry?"

Harry winked at her. "That'd be one of the half-blood prince's potions, babe. Roofinus Maximus."

"Blimey!" said Ron, "That's the darkest of dark magic! Even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has ever used it!"

"That's why I can beat him," Harry said, winking at Ron. "You see, I have the ability to love. Again, and again, and again."

The bell rang and the girls filed out of their dorms, all slightly rosy cheeked and nodding at Harry. Harry ignored them.

"Blimey!" said Ron, "not all of them!"

"You two will be late for class," said Professor McGonnagal as she led out Buckbeak by his mane feathers through the portal, "And I'll see you in my office, Mr. Potter." She disapppeared.

"What was McGonnagal doing in the Gryffandor girl's dorms?" asked Hermoine, confused.

"Baby, the question you should be asking is: what wasn't she doing." said Harry.