Title - Just What I Needed

Author - Lena

Website - http://www.geocities.com/simpleadorationtwo/

Pairing - Harry/Percy, Harry/Ron

Rating - R

Genre - PWP, Drama, Romance

Warnings - Drinking, Drug use and some other bad boy things

Disclaimers - I don't own Harry or Ron or anything in the HP world. JKR does (and Warner Bros, et al)

A/N - As always thanks to Lorien_Eve for being my beta. The best ever!

Part of the Harry/Weasley FQF (second wave)

Link - http://www.livejournal.com/community/hpwbfqf/

Challenge #11 - Harry decides that he has been a 'good boy' for too long and starts to look more and more like Bill (hair, earring, clothes). How will the Weasley clan react when they see him. Bonus points if somebody other than Bill becomes his lover.

Summary - Harry rebels and Percy comes home in disgrace. The two outcasts wind up having a lot in common. Of course, though, there's always Ron...

Chapter One

The words played over and over in Harry's mind and made him mad each time he remembered them. He could hear Mrs. Weasley's voice chirp, "Oh, Harry, I wish my boys were more like you! Now, Ron, you better pay attention and be more like Harry."

It really annoyed Harry being treated like he was better than Ron and his brothers. Or like a little kid. He loved Mrs. Weasley but he got really tired of being set as the good example. He didn't think he was all that good. He had a bad temper and didn't always do well in his studies. He constantly disobeyed rules, usually dragging Ron with him. He was sixteen, after all, and not a child.

By the time they returned to Hogwarts, after the Christmas break, Harry decided he was going to change a few things. After all, he wanted to have some fun while he could. Voldemort had come early this year and Harry, with the help of Dumbledore's Army, had sent him underground once again. Oh, Harry knew Voldemort would be back, but he hoped it would be later, much later.

The more he thought about it the more angry he became. He was in a bad temper and he got into an argument with Ron before they even got out of Platform 9 3/4.

Harry was slumped in the seat, reading a magazine he had picked up at King's Cross before they went through the barrier. Ron tried to talk to him, but Harry was sulking.

"Harry?"

Ron signed in exasperation. "Harry?" He said more sharply.

"What?" replied Harry curtly.

"Why are you reading that?" Ron poked the magazine with his finger.

"Because I want to." It was a muggle music magazine and Harry had no idea who the people were in it, but he liked their long hair and strange clothes. They wouldn't be treated like children, Harry thought.

"Well, stop and talk to me!"

Harry slumped lower in the seat. He wasn't sure why he was being irritable with Ron. It wasn't really Ron's fault that his mother said her boys should be as good as Harry. He knew that Ron didn't like being compared to Harry, but he also knew people didn't say bad things about other people's mothers even if they were true. So he kept his mouth shut.

Ron finally got up, stomped from the compartment and down the aisle of the train. Harry sighed to himself and wanted sixth year to be over. It had already been a trying half year. He just wanted to spend the next term doing nothing but getting through his studies and finding some way to annoy the adults in his life. Maybe he should start with Snape, Harry thought, but then realized he already annoyed Snape, so that wouldn't work very well.

Ron eventually came back but spent the rest of time, before they reached Hogwarts scowling at Harry.

Harry finally snapped, "Aren't you supposed to be with the other prefects?"

"I was, and it was boring as hell. So I thought I'd come back here. I guess I'm a git for doing that!" yelled Ron.

Harry didn't say anything more.

Ron kept quiet for a while before he asked in a softer voice, "Come on, Harry. What is it? Out with it."

"No, I'm fine." Harry said wearily.

Ron cast his eyes downward, looking a little hurt that Harry wouldn't share what was bothering him. He began to gather his things and said, "I have to go back and meet Hermione. I don't want to though."

"I know, I'll see you later." Harry knew he couldn't continuing being downright mean to Ron, so he took the edge out of his voice for the moment.

"'Kay, Harry. See you later." Ron clutched Pig's cage and left the room.

Harry threw on his robe and stashed the magazine in one of the pockets. He felt the train lurch as it started to slow. He grabbed Hedwig's cage and his trunk and headed out the door.

*****

There was always a smaller feast, not so elaborate after the return from holiday, and Harry was glad. He wasn't in the mood for one of Dumbledore's big speeches. He just wanted to eat and go to bed.

Hermione was even less successful than Ron in getting Harry to open up.

"Harry, you have been in a foul mood since I saw you on the platform. What is your problem?"

"Nothing! God, why does everyone think I have some sort of problem? Maybe I am just sick of this school and all the boring people in it!"

Hermione got up and placed her hands on her hips. "Really, Harry. You don't have to be rude."

"Gee, mate, what do you really think of us?" Ron chimed in sarcastically.

"Can I just eat my meal and go to bed, please?" Harry retorted, equally sarcastic. He pulled out his magazine and flopped it on the table, staring intently at it.

*****

Harry and Ron trudged up the stairs to their dormitory, after bidding a begrudged good-night to Hermione. Ron grunted a good-night to Harry after they had shed their clothes and put on their pajamas. Harry crawled under the covers and curled up, starting to feel bad about the way he had been acting, but keeping the promise to himself that he was going to make some changes this term. Starting with letting his hair grow like the blokes in the magazine.

He fell asleep thinking about Fred and George. They always had fun and they turned out alright. Couldn't he have a little fun? At least, until Voldemort showed up again.

*****

In Charms class the next morning, Ron and Harry were tolerating each other, when Harry heard Terry Boot whisper to Padma Patil, "...party..."

Harry's ear perked up trying to hear the whole conversation. "...lemon drop rum...ten o'clock...common room--"

"Harry!" hissed Ron, trying to get his attention. Professor Flitwick was standing on the table in front of Harry, waiting for an answer.

"Uh...uh...what was the question?" stammered Harry.

Flitwick hopped up and down. "Why don't people pay attention?"

Harry looked confused but said, "Because they're thinking of something else?"

"That's not the question!!" Flitwick was exasperated and jumped off the table, muttering to his desk. "Class dismissed!"

Harry turned around immediately and said, "Um...Terry..."

"Yeah?" Terry got up from his seat and gathered his books.

"Um...is Ravenclaw having some sort of party?"

"Yeah...it's Friday night, but...you want to come?"

"I'd like to, if you don't mind?"

Terry smiled. "Uh, Harry, you know, we Ravenclaw's are pretty smart at getting the things we need. I didn't think you were a partier."

Harry's temper immediately flared. "Why do you say that?"

"Sorry, Harry, but you just don't seem the type." Terry shrugged. "But, you can come if you want. Ron, you're invited, too."

Harry forced himself to calm down and said, "Thanks."

"You going to have to come early, so you're out of Gryffindor before curfew. I'll meet you at the door of our common room at nine, okay?"

Harry grinned happily. "Great!"

Terry and Padma headed off to their next class. Harry turned to Ron and gleefully said, "Isn't this great? A party!"

Ron had a shocked look on his face. He finally recovered somewhat and said, "Harry, what made you want to go to a Ravenclaw party? And get me invited?"

"Aren't you tired of never having any fun?"

"We have fun...and besides we'll miss curfew going so late!" whispered Ron, aware of the other students around them.

Harry picked up his books and started for the door. "So the hell what," he muttered over his shoulder.

Ron grabbed his books and stomped after Harry.

*****

Friday night could not come quickly enough for Harry. Just before nine o'clock, Harry grabbed Ron's arm and dragged him out of the common room. He had given Hermione a lame excuse that he had forgotten something in the Great Hall at dinner.

"Well, I'm going to bed, but you two better hurry, so you don't get caught after curfew!" she screeched after them.

As they were walking quickly out of Gryffindor Tower, Harry muttered, "I don't know why we have a curfew on Friday nights anyway. It's ridiculous!"

Ron couldn’t catch his breath to say anything, as Harry still had his arm and was walking quickly, practically dragging him behind.

They reached Ravenclaw Tower when Harry realized he wasn’t sure where the common room was. He and Ron looked around and saw that the Tower was very similar to their own, so they ran in the direction that their room would be.

They made a right turn at a corner when they heard someone whisper, “Psst...Harry...Ron!”

They turned around and saw Terry standing near a large painting of a scholarly looking fellow.

“Terry, thanks...” Harry, still pulling Ron, walked up to the painting.

Terry stammered, “You...you have to move away while I say the password, Harry.”

“Right, sorry.” Harry and Ron moved to the other side of the hallway, while Terry whispered the password to the fellow in the painting.

The fellow in the painting reached up and adjusted his glasses, peering down at Terry. “Are you letting those two in?”

“Yes, they’re alright!” hissed Terry.

The fellow sighed in an annoyed manner, but opened so the three could get in.

Harry whispered, “Thanks,” and the fellow sighed again.

The Ravenclaw common room was much like their own, except, of course, everything was in blue and bronze. Terry walked Harry and Ron over to a table that had bottles and glasses on it.

"What's your pleasure?" asked Terry, with a smirk.

Harry didn't know what any of the bottles contained, but he didn't want to appear stupid. He let go of Ron, waved his hand and said, "Whatever you usually have...and make one for Ron, too."

Terry mixed two drinks and handed them to Harry and Ron. Harry took a gulp and it burned as it went down his throat. He spluttered, as Terry laughed. "Harry, you have all night!"

Ron was taking small sips, after seeing what happened to Harry, but drinking it nonetheless. Harry took a smaller drink, which tasted much better, and he and Ron walked over to a cushy chair. Ron sat in it, while Harry leaned against the armrest.

Padma Patil walked over to them and said brightly, "Hello, Harry!" She glowered down at Ron. "Hello, Ron," as she turned on her heel.

"Bloody hell, is she ever going to get over that Yule Ball thing? Honestly," said Ron bemused.

Harry didn't say anything and emptied his glass with a last small gulp. Terry was still at the table mixing drinks for others. Harry walked over and said, a bit too loudly, "Can I have another?"

Terry laughed and said, "Yeah, sure you can, Harry."

When Terry had refreshed his drink, Harry walked back over to Ron. Music was playing and some of the kids were dancing in the middle of the room. Harry tapped his foot in time to the beat.

He looked around the room and noticed that not all the Ravenclaws were there. Cho Chang for one. Luna Lovegood for another. He was rather glad for that. He wanted to drink and have fun, not have to listen to Luna about some nonsense rumor or put up with Cho's glares. Ron was right, Harry thought, did girls hold grudges forever?

He dismissed the annoying thoughts from his brain and continued drinking. The evening became a blur of music, dancing, drinking, laughing...with Harry leading the way.

*****

Hot air was blowing on his cheek and it annoyed him immensely. He tried to move his head and found that it pounded when he did. Harry opened one eye to a stream of sunlight hitting him in the face. He groaned and lifted his arm up to shield the brightness.

He could still feel that hot air blowing on his cheek. Even though the pounding began again in his head, he turned and came face to face with Ron. Ron was snoring softly, had his mouth hanging open and was curled up against Harry.

Harry had very little recollection of how he wound up on the floor of the Ravenclaw common room with Ron. He supposed they were tired or passed out and went to sleep. He jabbed Ron in the ribs to wake him.

"Ron!"

Ron moved a little but didn't rouse.

"Ron! Wake up!"

Ron muttered, "Wha...mffff..."

Harry leaned into Ron's face and said sharply, "Ron!"

Ron opened his eyes. "Harry?" He lifted himself up on his hands to sit up. He looked around. "What time is it?"

"Dunno." Harry clutched his head and tried to make the pounding go away.

"We need to go back to Gryffindor Tower."

"Well, if it's late enough, we can just walk through the castle and we won't be out of place."

"Well, that's true..." said Ron thoughtfully. "Okay, the only ones who will know are Seamus, Dean and Neville, and they won't tell."

"No." Harry got up gingerly, and grabbed Ron's hand to pull him up as well.

*****

They walked through the castle, like it was any other day, but the sun beat down on Harry's head, doing nothing to alleviate the pounding. He moaned, "God, Ron, how much did I drink?"

Ron snorted and said, "A lot."

“But I did have fun, didn’t I?”

Ron laughed out loud. “Oh, yes!”

They got to the castle in time for a late breakfast. They grabbed a few pieces of toast and a glass of pumpkin glass. When they had finished, Harry’s head felt a little better.

“You know, I’m going back to the Tower and go back to sleep.”

“Okay, mate. I’ll go see what Hermione is up to.”

The two separated and headed off in opposite directions.

Harry trudged back to Gryffindor Tower and climbed the steps to the dorms. He sighed as he lay down on his bed, unruffled from not being slept in the night before. He wanted to have fun, but his head pounded and he didn’t understand how he would ever lose his supposedly clean cut image if he couldn’t even go to a party without having to take a nap after.

He was a little disgusted with himself. He wondered who could help him become the party boy. He got a sinking feeling in his stomach. He knew who, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask.

*****

Draco Malfoy was sitting alone by the lake, under a tree, smoking. It had taken Harry weeks to get up his nerve. It was common knowledge that Draco smoked, among other things, so Harry took his chances and hoped Draco was in a relatively good mood, willing to share.

Harry approached him from behind. “Er...um...Malfoy...”

Draco jumped a little at the intrusion. “Potter! What do you want?”

“Um...nothing...” Harry stood there, feeling like an idiot, but the need to do something illicit overtook him.

“Then why are you here bothering me?”

“Er...um...”

Draco turned to look at him. “For God’s sake, Potter, spit it out, would you?”

“Can I borrow a fag?” Harry rushed the words out nervously.

“Borrow? That means you’ll give it back. May you have a fag?” Draco drawled sarcastically.

Harry clenched his fists. “Shut up. May I have, can I borrow, who cares? I’ll pay you back when I go to Hogsmeade!”

Draco laughed softly. “You are as easy to get riled up as Weasley.”

“Can I have one or not?”

“Yes. But do you know how to smoke it?” Draco pulled the cigarette out of the pack and handed it to Harry.

Harry came closer and snatched it from Draco’s fingers, like the cigarette or Draco were going to bite him.

“Sure, of course, I know how to smoke it,” Harry said unconvincingly.

Harry pulled his wand out and said softly, “Incendio.” A spark of fire came out of Harry’s wand.

“God, Potter, careful! If you are going to do this, you should invest in a muggle lighter. Much less dangerous.”

Harry ignored him and put the end of the cigarette barely close to the flame. It lit and Harry pulled the wand away and extinguished it. Harry put the cigarette in his mouth. He took a tiny puff and a small amount of smoke escaped his mouth. He took a slightly larger puff, and he blew more smoke from his mouth, but he knew he didn't look like Draco. He puffed on it again. He pulled it away from his mouth and stared at it.

"You didn't even inhale!" Draco laughed uproariously at him. “You’ve never done this before, just admit it!”

"Yes, I have!" Harry stuck the cigarette between his lips again and took a deep breath. This time it burned hot and tasted awful. Harry choked and pulled the cigarette away, as he coughed violently.

Draco laughed again, this time clutching his stomach.

Through chokes of coughing, Harry rasped out, “Alright, so I haven't! Teach me.” Harry clutched his chest, trying to make himself stop coughing, and sat down on the grass next to Draco.

Draco pulled a cigarette out of the pack and pulled out a lighter. He cupped his hand around both and lit the cigarette. He drew in a breath and Harry could see the end of the cigarette light with red embers.

Harry copied Draco and inhaled. He gagged a little, but it was easier. He inhaled once again. It still burned a little, but it didn't make him cough.

Draco looked at Harry and smirked. "That's better, isn't it?"

Harry nodded his head and took another breath in, then exhaled, watching the smoke swirl around his head.

After a while of sitting on the grass and in silence, Harry asked Draco, “Do you drink?”

“Of course.”

“Do the Slytherins have parties?”

“Of course. What are you getting at?”

“Nothing. I’ve been to a couple of Ravenclaw parties and Terry said you have to get used to alcohol. I always seem to wind up with a pounding headache.”

“Why are you so interested in this stuff?”

“I have my reasons,” Harry said defiantly.

“Tired of being Mr. Goody-Two Shoes?” Draco smirked at him again.

Harry started to get mad, but stopped and just said, “Yes.”

Draco nodded his head and replied, “Interesting...”

*****

A week later, Harry and Ron were walking down the hall towards Potions class, when Draco was standing by the door. He seemed to be waiting on someone. As Harry and Ron walked past him into the class, Draco touched Harry’s arm. Harry looked at him and saw that Draco had a small package in his hand.

“Here,” Draco whispered.

“What is it?” Harry said in a normal voice.

“Quiet! It’s for later. And you can share it with the Weasel if you want.”

Harry took the package and continued walking into class.

“What did he want?” Ron asked hotly.

“Nothing. I’ll tell you later.”

“What did he give you?”

“Shush, Ron. I promise...later!”

Ron first glared at Draco on the other side of the class, then back at Harry. He sat down heavily, slumping in his chair. He didn’t like this one bit.

*****

Harry and Ron ran up the stairs to their dorms after dinner, without stopping in the common room. They made some lame excuse to Hermione, which Harry could tell she didn’t buy. When they reached the dorm, they pulled off their robes and school clothes and changed into jeans and t-shirts. Harry pulled the box out of his robes and clutched it in his hand.

Harry pulled his curtains open and jumped on his pillow. “Come on, sit.” Ron crawled in and sat down at the end of the bed, stretching his long legs up the side, so his feet were near Harry.

“Alright, what is all this about?” Ron asked impatiently.

Harry pulled the twine that was holding the little package together and opened the box. In it were odd shaped cigarettes with a note.

Harry handed Ron the note, then showed him the box. Harry smiled. Though he had no idea what they were exactly, he knew they must be cool.

Ron gasped, as he knew what they were. “Harry, that’s weed.”

“Weed?”

“Pot, you know. Oh God, Harry, you don’t even know what this is?”

“They look like fags.”

Ron said, “Yes, but not regular ones.” He furrowed his brow, thoughtfully. “How come Malfoy thinks you would like these?”

“How come you know what these are?” Harry retorted.

“Fred and George, of course.”

“Because I asked Malfoy for a cigarette. I smoke sometimes.”

Harry could tell Ron was getting angry. “Why? Why would you want to smoke?”

“It’s relaxing.”

“I don’t understand the stuff you are doing lately.”

Harry could feel his temper get the best of him. “I just want to have some fun for once. Is that too much to ask for? I’m tired of being responsible and having to face Voldemort. Nobody understands!!” His voice got very loud.

“Okay, Harry. Stop yelling. I don’t want to fight with you. But I still don’t get it.”

“You never do,” muttered Harry.

Ron got pink in the face and snapped back, “Well, I try when you let me!” Ron scooted to the edge of the bed and started to pull the curtains open.

“Don’t leave! Ron, come on. Try this with me, please?” pleaded Harry.

Ron stopped. He didn’t want to make Harry even madder. He sighed, “Okay.”

Harry smiled happily and reached into the box. He reached out of the curtains, to his nightstand and pulled the drawer open. He grabbed the lighter Draco had lent him. He thought about how he owed Draco a lighter, a pack a cigarettes and God knows how much money if he wanted more pot.

Harry flicked the lighter over the end and inhaled. Nothing. He wondered if he was supposed to. It smelled different than the other cigarettes, so he just assumed it would be different.

Ron sighed loudly and said, “No, no, Harry. That’s all wrong. Like this.” He picked up another joint from the box and took the lighter Harry was holding.

Ron lit his and placed it between his lips. He inhaled for a while, then pulled it from his mouth and held the smoke in before exhaling it into the air. Harry looked at him with amazement.

“Have you done this before?”

Ron laughed. “Okay, okay. Fred and George taught me one summer a couple of years ago. But Mum caught us and had a fit. I haven’t done it since.”

Harry looked hurt. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Ron shrugged. “Mum would’ve had a bigger fit if we had involved you.”

“You could’ve told me!” Harry shouted.

“Harry! It was once. The summer before fourth year. I couldn’t tell you. Mum was so upset that Fred and George had involved me.”

“What else haven’t you told me?” yelled Harry.

“Nothing! Harry, it was no big deal. I didn’t think you would’ve like it, okay? I thought you would’ve been angry with me for trying it.”

“Nobody thinks I am capable of handling anything!”

“Well, sometimes you don’t make it easy for us to know what you want!!” Ron shouted back.

“Go away.” Harry snatched the lighter out of Ron’s hand and pulled the box away from him.

Ron ignored him and took another toke. “Harry, just relax and try it.”

Harry scowled at him. Part of him wanted Ron to leave him alone, but the other part wanted for him to stay and help him. Harry decided on the latter. “Ron?”

“Yeah.” Smoke was swirling around Ron’s head as he inhaled yet again. His eyes were starting to get red and watery.

“How does it make you feel?”

“Good, relaxed...it’s called getting high.”

“Oh.” Harry relit the joint and pulled on it, like he had seen Ron do. It didn’t quite burn like Draco’s cigarettes. But he didn’t feel anything.

“Ron?”

“Yeah?” Ron had his head resting on the footboard.

“When will I feel something?”

“It depends on you. Are you doing it right?” Ron’s eyes were lazy and rimmed in red.

“I think so. I’m doing it like you did.”

Harry took another toke, then another and another...

“Oh...”

“What, Harry?”

“Oh, this is nice.”

“Uh, huh...”

*****

The Hogsmeade trip came none too soon for Harry. He knew he had little chance to see the more unsavory shops with Hermione in tow. He hoped he and Ron could make an excuse to leave her in the bookstore. Harry knew that she would take forever in there.

As planned, they told Hermione they would meet her in an hour in the Leaky Cauldron for a butterbeer, that they were bored of the bookstore.

They headed down to a side street where they came across a shop called, "Painless Steel". Harry had no idea what the name meant, but Draco had told him to go there.

Ron kept looking around, hoping no one would see him. He didn't want to go in, but he knew Harry owed Draco and he didn't want Harry to be indebted to Draco for anything. Though Ron had protested going to Draco for more pot, he'd finally relented. He knew since Fred and George weren't in school anymore, there would be no hope of getting it anywhere else, but he didn't like it and he didn't like going to the shop either.

Harry was a little apprehensive himself, but he pushed the door open bravely and made himself go in. Ron followed. There was a young man with long blond hair sitting behind the counter. Harry approached him.

"Hello, I need some fags and a muggle lighter."

The man peered at him. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"Oh, okay...some of the third years from that school try to buy here."

Harry's temper flared. "You think I look like a third year?"

"Harry..." murmured Ron softly to calm him.

"Well, you are kind of short and young looking!" The man chuckled.

"Really? Well, I'm not!" Harry spat.

The man smirked and said, "You're not what? A third year? Or short and young looking?"

Harry turned red and said through gritted teeth, "Could I buy fags from you or not?"

The man chuckled softly and reached under the counter, pulling out a couple of packs of cigarettes. He then turned in the seat to reach behind and grabbed a lighter from a pile on a shelf. He pushed them towards Harry. Harry dropped some coins on the counter.

As Harry counted out his money, something in the corner caught his eye. There was a older teenager in a chair and another man with some sort of thin silver-looking stick in his hand. Harry asked, "What is that man going to do?"

Ron turned to where Harry was looking and said, "He's getting his ear pierced."

"Like Bill?"

"Yeah. Bill said it doesn't hurt, but I think he was lying."

The man behind the counter interjected, "It doesn't hurt, maybe stings a little..."

"I want to get one."

"Harry..." said Ron uncertainly.

"But I don't want to have a pierced ear just like Bill. What other places to people pierce?"

"Uh, your tongue, your, uh...do you have a girlfriend?" the man asked.

"No. And I don't have a boyfriend either," Harry said, matter-of-factly.

"Oh! Well, maybe when you do get a boyfriend, he'd like the tongue ring."

"Why would he like that?"

"Harry!" Ron wailed painfully.

"What?" Harry looked at Ron with true innocence.

Ron blushed and looked away. "I'll tell you later," muttered Ron.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Okay." He turned back to the man and said, "I want a tongue ring."

The man grinned and tapped the counter, indicated he needed more money.

Harry dumped more coins out on the counter and the man counted it out.

Harry and Ron walked over to the back of the store and watched as the older teenager got his ear pierced. He didn't flinch at all, so Harry whispered to Ron, "See, it won't hurt."

"I don't know. Are you sure you want to do this?" asked Ron, with a furrowed brow. "It just looks like it's gonna hurt."

Harry looked at the needle like the one the man was going to stick into his tongue, but he kept his fears to himself and said, "Yeah, I do."

The man gestured for Harry to sit in the chair. Harry took a deep breath and climbed into the chair. He felt flush and nervous. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Ron stood there staring at Harry, like he was doomed.

"Stop staring at me like that."

"It's gonna hurt, Harry."

"Stop saying that! You're making me nervous."

The man said, "Just relax."

Harry nodded his head, but wasn't sure whether to believe him. The man grasped Harry's tongue with his glove covered fingers. Harry felt a poke when the man placed a dot with a marker so he could tell where to put the needle. Harry saw the needle getting larger and larger as it came closer and closer. He kept his eyes opened, not wanting to be scared, but feeling very nervous.

Harry could feel the needle going in and it did sting, but it was nothing compared to how his scar hurt sometimes, so he didn't flinch. Besides, he didn't want Ron to think it hurt.

When the sting subsided, the man let go of his tongue. Harry's tongue felt heavy and a little swollen. He moved it around his mouth. He turned to the mirror and stuck his tongue out.

"Ew!" said the mirror and Ron at the same time.

"Oh, it ithn't that bad!"

The man chuckled. "Your tongue is going to be a little swollen for a couple of days, but take this after every meal. I mean it."

He handed Harry a small bottle of liquid. Harry looked at the bottle and read, "Mouthwash for Muggle Mischief."

"That's so your tongue won't get infected. You have to keep it clean, until it heals. Okay?"

Harry nodded his head. He jumped out of the chair and stared into the mirror again. He stuck out his tongue. He moved his tongue around and watched the silver ball in the middle of it move. He liked it. He liked the sensation, though he was still a little numb.

Ron said, "Let me see," as he jostled in front of the mirror to look at Harry. "Ew...it's...kind of gross..." Harry closed his mouth.

"Let me see it again," asked Ron again. Harry obliged.

"Ew..."

"Stop saying that!"