Harry Potter, now thirty-eight, was never a man of quite so many words. And not even George Weasley's sometimes atrocious pranks drove him up the wall. Harry spoke when needed, was seldom annoyed and his children often took advantage of that. But at this instant, Harry Potter had murder on his mind.
There was an American, who had apparently been abduct-apparated by someone to the Hogwarts' main office. He was a doctor and he did not like staying quiet. What was worse, he did not like saying things that didn't annoy Harry Potter.
"What fresh hell is this," the man whispered animatedly when Harry felt compelled to show the horrid doctor his magic wand, threatening to Stun him.
"If you will kindly shut up, Sir, I will look into the matter of how you got here, and we will take you back." Harry put his wand out of sight, changing his mind about stunning a muggle.
A little background will now, not go amiss.
Harry and Ginny had planned a long Christmas holiday abroad. He was to pull a few strings, get his three children out of school for almost a month. When he got to the office to get the above carried out, a drunk, in muggle clothing walked into the premise and yelled the following.
"Wilson and I need to have a talk; he's hiding away my Vicodin,"
Nonplussed, the lone Hogwarts employee in her emerald robes and Harry Potter looked at this specimen of humanity. "Good lord - is humanity, freaking consciousness overrated! Must I always drug myself so! How much scotch have I had to be imagining a castle in the mountains and ugly little women in robes?
He walked closer to Harry. And as if struck by a revelation, he shouted harder, "Oops, you're not a woman, my bad."
Maybe the man thought if he shouted loud enough, the man named Wilson or someone from his side of the world will hear him, shake him out of his drunken visions. But as the next half hour proved to him, his imaginations were real, drunk as he was. He was Harry's waking nightmare tonight and Harry was his.
The man wouldn't shut up, as established above. It was now upon Harry to escort him first to Professor McGonagall's office and then to the Ministry. Walking through memorable, changing passages of Hogwarts Castle, Harry tried to calm down.
"So when this dress up post-Halloween is over, could you tell my white Aussie or my black Baldie that this was a nice joke and I laughed hysterically?" said the man, his name was Dr. Greg House.
"This is not Halloween, Sir. This is where I went to school, as do my children now. We are wizards." Harry said, not for the first time.
"And this is not a stupid joke, Sir. This is where I found my non-existent wife and pre-made children. We are dangerous sellswords from King's Landing." Dr. House seemed amused of his remark, Harry did not understand it.
"It is normal to react with disbelief when you get to know about us for the first time." Harry tried being sympathetic, the man's memories would be erased ultimately anyway.
"Look, clearly we have a difference of opinion. But unfortunately, I have used up my budget of time I can spend arguing with Wilson's paid actors. It is now time for me to pass out and enjoy the last of the alcohol in my bloodstream."
And sure enough, near the Gryffindor common room, where Harry had reached perhaps out of an old habit, House passed out. The Fat Lady was aghast to see two grown men wandering the castle that late in the night. She knew Harry well enough, but she had an affinity for theatrics and gossip. So, she ran to other portraits to chat up on the subject.
Harry considered levitating the man, sending him to the American Ministry of Magic or just forgetting he existed and go home. He could tell Ginny he will get the kids tomorrow after work.
At that moment, appeared before Harry two armed men who were wearing a ridiculous amount of archaic jewels. Sellswords from King's Landing perhaps? Perhaps not, they resembled Indian god figurines Harry and Ginny saw on their holiday brochures.
They greeted him in Namaste, the Hindu way of saying hello. Harry nodded at them politely. Indian Gods, American doctors, all at Hogwarts Harry couldn't rightfully say that he hadn't witnessed stranger things in his time.
"My name is Arjuna and my companion goes by the name of Krishna. After our work at Hastinapura was over, for eons now, we have been trying to teach men of all lands, the path of Dharma and the power of faith." The man on the left, in the more elaborate headgear broke into a well-rehearsed speech.
"This man in particular, though not evil, is beyond our help now. We believed that Harry Potter, who could vanquish Voldemort, another man beyond our help, could also be able to show Greg that he is not beyond redemption and the world is not a hostile place," continued the other man, Krishna, more spontaneously.
"But I'm afraid, I'm never non-drugged enough to know and believe in anything besides what I already know." Interjected a voice and all three men turned around.
In a pool of his sick lay Dr. House, completely at home.
"I mean, all things aside, the purpose of this exercise is simply that Arthy figures out why they made her make so many 'say no to drugs' posters in school. Of course her drawing was hideous and she came up with so many stupid quotations to go along with her artwork. But now she should know. Drunk on power, or on single malt or high on pain medicines, or imagining being inside multinational fandoms are not very sane ideas, right?!"
Everyone disappeared, the castle disintegrated into wisps of smoke. Very slowly, our birthday girl opened her eyes and wondered thusly. She wanted to find out whether her fandoms were making her smarter or downright insane. Maybe a bit of both, she laughed to herself.
Any which way, on birthdays or otherwise, say no to drugs.
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