“We shouldn’t have even came,” I muttered, crossing my arms and frowning. I didn’t want to be here, and I had been telling this to anyone I could for the past two days.
I reminded myself of my five year old cousin, who happens to be the most annoying little twat to ever walk the earth. I didn’t tell that to Miranda though, as she would probably just laugh in my pathetic face (although right now, I think she would agree).
I’ve already told her horrifying tales of him.
Christopher; the devil’s child.
I vaguely remember one time when I was babysitting him, he asked me to buy him a fake stuffed animal. I obviously said no- who would buy a toy to that imbecile? He’d destroy it. I wasn’t buying him a toy. He then told me that if I didn’t buy him a stuffed toy, he would tell my aunt that I had hit him, screamed at him, and caused him to cry. Which I hadn’t. He is also the best liar I know. My aunt always believes what he says, the idiot. Which meant that I was either buying it for him, or I was fucked.
In the end, I bought him that damn crocodile. It was twenty pounds. Twenty fucking pounds for a cheap stuffed toy.
Consequentially, I got blackmailed by a five year old child and lost twenty pounds. It was horrible.
Never again did I babysit him.
We were standing right beside the portrait hole, where I was currently thinking of my horrible cousin, looking down at the chaos a few steps beneath us. It was dark and humid, and I could barely see anything three feet away. Actually, I didn’t want to.
You would be surprised at what happens during these Gryffindor parties.
Already, I could feel the fabric of my black lace dress sticking to my skin, and I regretted wearing a long sleeved one. I wanted to go change. No, I wanted to leave.
I don’t know how Miranda convinced me to go to one of these things again. It’s getting old. I don’t want to go to these stupid Halloween parties anymore. We’ve been going for the past three years now, and they always end up being the same.
“It’ll be fun. You don’t even have to dance, for Merlin’s sake.”
Of course I didn’t have to dance. What the ruddy hell else am I suppose to do? It’s a Halloween party. There isn’t anything else you can do. I could sulk on the couch the entire night, but I wouldn’t want to interrupt intimate couples with their needs. And since I had barely anybody to talk to, I was probably going to have to be stuck at the bar drinking the entire night.
There were mostly orange and purple lights (accordingly to the theme) flashing everywhere- they were hurting my eyes and making my head spin even more than it already was.
I shouldn’t have done that predrinking with Miranda and Dom, it isn’t helping me much.
Miranda thinks predrinking is tradition (which is weird, considering she’s not fond of drinking), and so we do it every time we go to a party.
I think it’s bullshit.
Even Dom thinks it’s idiotic, since we always drink later anyways. What’s the point of drinking before going to a party where you will, once again, drink? You just come to the party drunk, as you would have come anyways, but sober.
I don't even know where Dom is. She had told us that she needed to leave at around seven, and then she was gone. It’s now nine. Something about helping her family out- I could barely understand what she was saying, she was talking so fast. I think it had something to do with setting everything up. Her family wanted her to be at the party on time for once, I think. She doesn’t even like going to them, she just has to because every single family member of hers would kill her if she didn’t. That’s the Gryffindor way.
Honestly, what was so great about these gatherings? You come, you dance, you drink, you get drunk. Every single time.
They’re stupid, unnecessary, and idiotic. As are all of the other things Gryffindors do.
“Oh shut up.”
I don‘t think I’ll shut up, Miranda. You’re the one who made me come to this stupid party. I have the right to speak, to scream, and to express my opinions. It’s a free country. I never complain enough- this is my chance. My opinion on this party: it‘s shit.
“You know what? I hate you- I should just go and get a new bloody best friend already,” I replied crossly, sending her a glare.
That’s another thing I hate about these parties (don’t worry- I have many more). Miranda loves them. Not that I don’t know why, but I think she should take the fact that I hate going to them into consideration. Maybe because I’m her best friend?
She always has to have her way. Well, not next time. Next time I‘m staying to sulk in our dormitory, while she’s off having so much fun it’s fucking contagious.
“Get over it. Stop being cranky.”
Get over it? I enjoy the fact that Miranda is blunt, but sometimes she just says too much of what I don’t want to hear. Which does happen a lot, now that I think about it.
“Maybe I can’t get over it,” I muttered, but I don’t think she heard me- she was trying to look for Alex, “and I’m not cranky,” I snapped back, louder this time.
Miranda looked back around at me with an irritated expression.
“You know, I think you should get a new best friend. It would save us both the hardship of having to hear you whine.” She retorted, before rolling her eyes and stomping off into the noisy room, losing herself in the mass of dancing bodies.
I hate her, I fucking hate her.
First of all, I do not whine. I groan and mutter. There’s a big difference.
Second of all, I just plain hate her. She sucks at being a best friend.
She always has to have her way- she never even asks me my opinion on things. She’s always being cheeky with me. Well, you know what? I don’t like cheek. I don’t like smartarses who correct every little mistake that I make.
I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated. Still, I stepped into the room and looked around. The only thing I could see were horny teenagers rubbing up against each other, drunk couples snogging, and the occasional loners (who I am now considered part of).
I hate these things.
Having nothing to do other than sulk, I made my way to the lonesome small bar in the corner, slumping against the counter just as I had predicted. I pressed myself into the counter as much as I could, as my black heels were hurting my feet. Folding my arms together, I proceeded to stare at the countless bottles of different types of alcohol. It sounds easy, and it would have been, but it isn’t since I couldn‘t see very well with all of the different lights flashing everywhere.
My mood was slowly turning more sour than it originally had been when Miranda and I first arrived here.
“Dragon’s Blood... Cold Inferi Rum... Dixie Wings...” I muttered, frowning, hardly being able to read the names of the many different colored bottles.
I couldn’t exactly decide which one I wanted (I also couldn’t see which one I would have preferred), so I took a random bottle, and poured some for myself into a plastic cup that I took from the left corner of the counter.
I sipped on it once, before grimacing in disgust. It was the most disgusting thing I had ever tasted, and that’s saying something.
One time, I drank something that was dung colored. Honest to Merlin, it was shit color. I’m not even going to describe the taste of it.
I looked all around the bottle for the name of the disgusting stuff, and when I found it, I rolled my eyes disbelievingly.
I had heard of it before. It was supposedly the best Firewhiskey- “The King of Whiskies". It was also probably so disgusting because it was aged for thirty nine years.
I took another bottle. This one was at the very least drinkable, and I couldn’t help the slight feeling of irritation that enveloped me because of the Gryffindors’ bad taste in alcohol.
They always ruined everything.
I can’t understand why Miranda and I always had to attend these things. We’re not even in the same house as Gryffindor, and we barely even like them.
Well, that’s a lie. Miranda likes them. Actually, everybody adores them (excluding the Slytherins)- I guess I'm just an exception.
I hate the lot of them. They’re arrogant, loud, and obnoxious. The only things Gryffindors ever do is party. Fucking wankers. They never do shit in life, yet always get everything they want.
Sometimes I wish the Sorting Hat had put me into Slytherin, because then I could publicly support them in their disdain of all things Gryffindor and not get weird looks doing it.
It’s not every day you see a Ravenclaw hissing at a passing Gryffindor.
Through my frown and slight swaying, I spotted Miranda talking (it looked more like flirting, to be honest) with Alex, and I couldn‘t help the slight feeling of jealousy that I felt when I saw them together, laughing. Damn alcohol.
I continued drinking for a while, simply looking around at the decorated Gryffindor common room.
To say I was bored and disappointed is an understatement. I don’t know why I thought this party would spontaneously be any better than all the rest, but I did.
The lesson for today is to never get your hopes up, kids. Even on Halloween.
Halloween used to be my favorite holiday. I loved all of the different costumes, the decorations, and most of all, the candy. Merlin, the candy in my neighborhood always seemed to be the best candy I’d ever eaten. I used to get so excited before trick or treating, my mother would have to scream at me to calm me down.
Suddenly, I noticed that someone was waving hello at me, and I snapped out of my reverie, startled. She was wearing a dark blue dress that ended just above the middle of her thigh, and cream colored heels.
“That was gastly,” Dom said breathlessly, clutching at her chest, finally coming to a stop in front of me. She never was one for sports. Although she does have a talent for getting away with things. Dominique Weasley is the only person I know on the face of this earth who can say gastly, and make it seem natural.
“Hello to you too,” I nodded my head towards her pointedly, and she shakily did the same a couple of times, causing her glasses to slide down her nose slightly, “What was?” I asked, sipping my disgusting drink, trying to act as if it was any good at all. I was failing, incredibly. My face resembled more of a grimace than anything.
“Setting the party up. It was like a jungle, everyone was out to get each other,” She told me, shaking her head disbelievingly, her eyes still wide from what was probably fear. She did look a bit out of place, with her slightly frizzy blonde hair and her glasses halfway down her nose.
I promptly pushed them back up.
“I think the party is a success, though.”
“Oh yes. People are having the time of their lives here, ” Dom stated matter-of-factly, nodding. I think she was judging that on the fact that everybody seemed quite pleased with what they were doing.
We both looked around at the complete and utter chaos around us, me drinking my still unknown drink, and Dom still nodding to herself.
“The alcohol is horrible though," I couldn’t help but adding, to which Dom reproachfully looked at me. “Sorry, but it is.”
“Well it isn’t my fault. I’m not a Gryffindor,” She replied dismissively, as if this made any sense. I personally think that she was just tired and spewing nonsense. Which happens pretty often, unfortunately.
I opened my mouth, and just as I was about to tell Dom how loud the music was, I saw something that made me stop.
It was one of the most pathetic things I had ever seen the boy do. And so, I couldn’t help but sigh greatly, and roll my eyes, shaking my head.
I nudged Dom in the shoulder, and she gave a startled twitch of the head. Dom is incredibly jumpy at times.
“Look, it’s Romeo trying to prove his love to his Juliet once again,” I gestured towards them, rolling my eyes, and Dom followed my gaze. She then proceeded to also roll her eyes.
“When will he ever acknowledge the fact that she will never fancy him?”
He never has, you know.
“I don’t know, but it seems he hasn’t done it yet,” I replied nonchalantly, shrugging.
To say that Scorpius Malfoy is obsessed with Rose Weasley is the understatement of the century. To say Rose Weasley reciprocates the feeling is an even bigger one.
You see, when Rose first arrived at Hogwarts, everybody instantly fawned over her. She was pretty, smart, brave, and most importantly, a Weasley. She was a true Gryffindor. And so, boys started noticing her. Over the years, she had boyfriends and boys that were completely infatuated with her, and she was happy about it. She was confident, and a bit too proud.
Scorpius Malfoy also arrived at Hogwarts that same year, and people expected him to be exactly like his father and his grandfather, as Rose had been like her mother and grandmother. He got sorted into Hufflepuff. He was the first Malfoy to ever be mildly stupid, shy, pathetic, and overall weird. People started treating him differently when they found out about this, and disregarded the fact that he was a Malfoy and that he had obvious good looks.
And so, one September day back in third year, Scorpius Malfoy confessed his love for Rose Weasley. In front of the whole Great Hall- during dinner, mind you. Since then, he has been asking her to go out with him literally every single day. He even once asked her to marry him- I was there, unfortunately. I'm pretty sure he even had a real ring.
And so this leads us to now. There was none other than Scorpius Malfoy standing beside Rose, trying to talk to her. He was trying to push himself closer to her with every word, but her friends were slightly blocking his way. Rose was trying to smile at her friends, who were all looking at Scorpius with equally uncomfortable expressions, but was failing miserably. To say it was pathetic wouldn’t even do it.
Dom nodded thoughtful, frowning slightly.
“You know, he’s like a dog,” I told her, raising an eyebrow.
Dom nodded a couple of more time, and I couldn’t help but think that she reveled in nodding. I remember back in fifth year when I had told her that she only did it to look smart, she had smacked me in the face with the book she was reading. I got a bruise. She then apologized and brought me to the Hospital Wing.
She’s a nice girl.
“Yes, Rose always tells me that. She says that she sometimes wants to give him a good slap in the face," Dom stated, grabbing my drink swiftly before I could protest (not that I was going to) and taking a sip. She quickly spat it back into the cup. It was all very ladylike.
“It is quite disgusting,” She added thoughtfully, before giving it back to me. I decided that I was better off not drinking the rest.
I was surprised. Rose, although I hate to admit it, is a nice girl. She never says anything bad about anyone, unless it’s justified. She is slightly violent when it comes to her family members, but that is very justifiable indeed.
“Rose said that?”
Well, then. It’s nice to know Rose respects him. I mean sure, he’s a weird kid, but I’ve had a couple of short conversations with him, and he’s okay. He’s a nice bloke (he's not a Hufflepuff for nothing).
I raised my eyebrows in astonishment, and looked back at the blonde haired boy across the circular room. I couldn’t help but feel slightly bad for him.
“I can’t believe she says things like that. He’s not that bad. He’s a good-natured bloke,” I reasoned, shrugging.
Dom looked at me with a disbelieving expression, blubbering like a fish for a few moments, before finally calming down.
“Not that bad?!” She shrieked. Guess not. “He’s crazy! Rose tells me of the things that he does to show her he loves her, and it even creeps me out, Toni!” Dom then clutched onto my shoulder, shaking it violently, probably trying to kick some sense into me. I was looking at her with a confused expression. “She told me that once, he followed her to the girls’ bathroom, and tried to come into her cubicle to ask her out, because he thought that she would say yes since nobody was around!” Dom was now looking at the person in question with a scared expression plastered onto her pale face. I think she’s gone bonkers.
I do have to admit though- that is pretty fucked up.
I rolled my eyes, shaking off her iron-grip and rubbed my sore shoulder, scowling.
“Oh stop it, Dom. You’re exaggerating- you’ll go bloody crazy if you keep thinking like that. I’m sure he’ll get her to go on a date with him eventually.”
Dom stared at me with a blank expression. I stared back.
“No. No, no, no. I know Rose, and she isn’t attracted to him in the least. She’d never date him,” Dom told me firmly.
“Dom, I’m sure she is somewhat attracted to him,” I told her reasonably, but she just shook her head stubbornly. “He’s... nice.” I shrugged, before taking another sip out of my drink, glancing at Dom.
“They will never end up together, Toni.” She sounded so patronizing. Dom is the most stubborn person I know. In second year, the year we officially became friends, I told her that her hair was pink. She denied it all day, only to find out her hair really was pink all along. She didn’t talk to me for a week.
I sighed, annoyed.
“Yes they will, Dominique! She’ll get tired of rejecting him one day,” I snapped at her.
“No they will not, Antoinette! She most certainly will not!” She growled back aggressively, and I was slightly taken aback at how quickly she could get mad. I wasn’t any better. Although she is part Veela and part werewolf, while I’m not.
“Fine. We’ll just have to make a bet,” I stated, raising my chin arrogantly.
Suddenly, just as quickly as it had appeared, Dom’s anger was gone. She scratched the back of her head uncomfortably.
“You really want to gamble?” She asked, biting her lip uncertainly. If there was one thing Dominique Weasley hated, it was gambling. She’s the type of girl who likes to know what’s coming her way- she’s far from being an adrenaline junkie like the rest of her large family.
“Oh Merlin, Dom. It‘s a measly bet.”
“Okay, fine- fine! I bet you twenty galleons that you couldn’t make Rose Weasley fall for Scorpius Malfoy,” She exclaimed quickly, giving in. She then took a random bottle of alcohol, opened it, and drank directly from it. I eyed her wearily.
My friend is a future alcoholic.
“Make it fifty,” I still managed to reply. She choked on her drink, before swallowing it and making a slight grimace. Then she opened her mouth, her eyes wide. For a few seconds she stayed this way, before she abruptly closed it, staring off into space, pondering over something.
I think she was calculating her chances of winning.
I rose my eyebrows but still grinned, sticking out my hand for her to take. She daintily shook it, rolling her eyes in the process.
We stayed silent for a few moments, Dom still drinking out of her bottle fiercely, before a sudden thought struck me.
“Uh, Dom?” I asked, my eyebrows furrowed out of confusion.
“Hmm?” She replied vaguely, swallowing and then wiping her mouth on her right hand.
“Does this mean that I have to train Malfoy so that Rose will say yes to going on a date with him?”
Dom, for the first time in the entire night, froze. She frowned slightly, before she let out her booming laugh, making her bottle shake violently. I carefully took it away from her, and set in on the counter as far away from her as possible.
Dom doesn‘t exactly know how to hold her alcohol.
“I guess you will. You will have to train Scorpius The Dog,” Dom then beamed at me, pushing her glasses up her nose, proud of her joke.
It wasn’t funny.
Hi! This is going to be a very interesting story :) I'm happy I'm finally going through with this, now that I have some inspiration. This is really different from all of my other stories, as it is slightly comedic. I know I'm horrible at comedy, but why don't you still leave a review to tell me if you liked it or not? Please? I can't do anything more than ask- it would certainly make my day!
xxx sofia :)
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