Thanks for the positive response(: I’m so glad you liked it!
Sorry again that it took so long :( It was rejected because I forgot to credit the artist of 'Wasted' (which is Goldfinger by the way, go listen to the song, I love it) and the spacing was wacky. AHHH *head-desk*
Well anyways, this is a really fun chapter and I had an incredible time writing it so I hope you enjoy!! It begins at Fred’s party…just an FYI in case you can’t figure it out yourself(; haha
Six days later
“Do you know karate?” A voice whispered into my ear.
I whipped around, my heart racing as I came face to face with none other than a very rosy cheeked Tristan Longbottom. Sighing, I loosened my death grip on the red plastic cup in my right hand, rather relieved. That was, until his question processed…
“Um,” I replied, suddenly feeling rather awkward, “noo…why?”
“Cuz, your body,” Tristan began quietly, looking oddly off-balance, before a sudden, unexpected roar escaped his throat, “IS KICKING!”
Horrified, I took a step backwards, looking around to see if anyone else had heard (which they most definitely had), a thousand thoughts suddenly racing through my mind.
Tristan Longbottom was drunk. Actually…completely and utterly shit-faced was more like it.
How the fuck had that happened??
Wait, nevermind that, how the hell had he even gotten himself an invite to Fred’s party? I mean, no offense, but Tristan wasn’t exactly a social butterfly…
“Is there a mirror in your pocket, Rosie?” He slurred, interrupting my thought process as he moved closer. “Cuz I can see myself in them.”
I fell further backwards, completely creeped out by how serious he sounded. For a moment, I was even frightened for my well-being…that was until I remembered it was Tristan Longbottom who was hitting me.
I might have laughed…if it hadn’t been so disturbing.
“You know, if I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put U and I together,” he whispered, his sad attempt at a wink almost humorous as it was pathetic.
Unable to decide the best plan of action, I glanced desperately around the room, searching for anyone…a cousin, a family friend (and no, at the moment, Tristan did not count), a sibling…but I couldn’t find one.
Damn. My family breeds like rabbits…Usually, I’m having trouble shaking off a relative (James), not trying to find one…son of a bloody trollop…When I get my hands on that boy’s neck there’s no telling what I’ll do…and Vivi! Why did she have to leave me alone with Mr. Billy no-mates…?
My thought process is off-balance when I’m under stress...don’t judge.
But this was just so typical, just…something that would happen to me. And I knew, I knew it coming into this party. It was the same thing every time I accompanied Viviana to something like this. She ditched five minutes in and left me alone to subsequently get hit on by a completely pissed stranger for the rest of the night.
Torture. Complete and utter torture. That was what this was. Why I had agreed to subject myself to this kind of torment again, I could not remember.
Oh wait, no, I did.
James…that little fucker…
“Would you touch me?”
My head snapped up.
“Excuse me?” I hissed.
Tristan’s blue eyes widened, becoming suddenly quite…watery…In a matter of seconds he had gone from giving off the vibes of a pedophile to a blubbering baby…
Way to go, Longbottom. That takes some talent.
“I – I only want to,” he stuttered, searching for the right words, all the while never taking his frightened eyes off of me. Damn…the way he looked at me was as if I had suddenly grown horns… “w-want to tell my friends I’ve been touched by an…an angel.”
Where does he get this shit?
“Ok, Longbottom,” I began forcefully, completely through with being all friendly and agreeable, “you better back away slowly before I start to bite.”
A rose has its thorns…what can I say?
For an instant, he froze, his face completely blank…signaling the calm before a storm.
And just when I recognized that, he burst out into ugly tears and instead of backing away like I instructed, threw himself at me, draping his large arms over my shoulders.
We had an audience. I glanced around desperately, thinking that, surely, one of them would help.
But it wasn’t until I noticed Fred in the midst of them that a flicker of hope sparked in me.
However, upon further study, he seemed to be smirking, pleased with my current situation. I felt a stab of pain. But, the hurt quickly turned to fury as I had a sudden urge to walk right up to that wanker and demand why he had invited me if he didn’t like me so much. That was…until I remembered that James had invited me, not Fred. And Fred was a total follower.
We hadn’t ever been particularly close, even less so after my sorting, but I never expected him to abandon me when I needed help…I didn’t think his prejudice would reach that far.
I mean, I experienced all the same things as he had. I had grown up in a similar, strictly-Gryffindor environment. I’d even say that my father was more bigoted than his. I’d had it hammered into me since day one that Gryffindor was the way to go, and that even Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff would barely be tolerated.
But over time, I was able to at least partially accept my sorting. So why couldn’t he? I was able to see and understand the reasons behind it, though it took me awhile to admit that.
And anyways, if I was being completely honest, being placed into Slytherin was not necessarily bad. It just simply emphasized that you were closest to the darker elements of one’s personality, those that can’t immediately be pinpointed as beautiful until you have really delved deep into yourself and seen how they truly attribute to the core of who you are.
Slytherin’s are known for their ambition, their drive and their competitive nature. These qualities can force us to horrible, albeit great, deeds but the problem starts where people forget that good things can also emerge from such assets.
And that logic is the reason why I understood my placement, because that is who I am. I’m competitive and bitter about defeat, so much so that it occasionally drives me to anger. This results in things that may label me as a stereotypical Slytherin, but, do not define me.
And although that is why I feel like I was rejected for so long, a misconception on what truly makes a Slytherin, I didn’t understand why some of my family still couldn’t see past that.
An example of one of those people…Fred
Aww fuck…why…why oh why did I come to this Gryffindor party??
I felt increasingly stupid with every passing second.
Longbottom sobbed into my shoulder, his words completely incoherent, his breathing erratic and his chest heaving up and down every so often.
Awkwardly, I pat his back, comforting him quite flatly with a, “There, there.”
Unable to handle the physical and mental weight, I dragged him over to a bright red couch, laid him down and began to make my not-so-sneaky exit.
“Rose!” His voice cracked.
What was it about me that people felt like I would comfort them? Why did they feel like they could spill their darkest secrets to me and I wouldn’t tell? I wasn’t that trustworthy…and I really wasn’t all that nice of a person, I mean I was a Slytherin. Why couldn’t they stereotype me as a total insensitive bitch to? Why did some people seem to think I was a saint? I could barely handle my own tears, let alone other people’s.
Maybe they thought I was too much of a wimp to write them off…
Which was true…
I turned around slowly, defeated.
“What?” I was too exasperated to be angry anymore.
“Please what?” I asked lamely, sitting down as far away from him as I could.
“Don’t…leave?” He looked as confused as I felt.
I nodded awkwardly, “Um…ok.”
For a moment, we sat in silence.
There was sound everywhere. In fact, I was pretty sure my ears would still be ringing the next day, it was that loud. I was actually surprised that the party hadn’t been shut down yet. People were everywhere, yelling at the top of their lungs in failed attempts to out voice the blasting music. I even thought I heard James’ booming voice from the other room, screaming at some unfortunate individual to CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!
But the two of us were silent. I preferred it that way and just as I was betting on how long that would last, he spoke.
“You and Roxanne are close, right?”
It all suddenly made sense.
I hate my friends. I hate my friends. I hate my friends. I hate my friends. I hate my friends.
I chanted the thought within my mind as I replied calmly, “Yes, why?”
“Did she tell you,” his voice broke off and he suddenly became quite unstable again, “why…w – why she wouldn’t…go?”
I stood up quickly, not wanting to be covered in the enormousness that was Tristan Longbottom again.
“Well, um,” I replied uneasily, not needing clarification on where he wanted her to ‘go’, “she doesn’t have…time for a boyfriend.”
At the look on his face, I could tell that even Tristan thought that was a lame excuse…and he was piss drunk by the look of his trousers.
Within a matter of seconds, he burst back out into sobs, falling face down onto the couch and covering it with the expanse of his body.
Why am I stuck with this right now?
I thought desperately, looking for an escape. I don’t need this…this isn’t my problem. Rejection happens. Life goes on. And if you can’t get over it…well life isn’t for wimps.
At that thought, I suddenly felt a wave of guilt that brought me back to Longbottom’s side.
Fuck my conscience.
I thought as I rubbed his back.
I sighed and began to comfort him. But, as Tristan wept, I took the time given to examine my surroundings.
In all truth, the Gryffindor common room really wasn’t quite as spectacular as I had imagined it back in my 1st year. I know, I know, my visit was long delayed, but honesty, I don’t think I could have mustered up the courage to visit the place until at least my 4th year and, even then, I never had the opportunity. Most parties were held in the Room of Requirement.
Unsurprisingly, the room was completely covered in red and gold. Red carpets. Gold drapes. Red couches framed with gold. And there were lions everywhere too. Lion shaped doorknobs. Lion shaped chair legs. I even think I saw a lion shaped ash tray…?
Taking it all in for the first time, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to live here, to spend my evenings here, relaxing in an armchair, chatting with friends all clad in red and gold…
A large snore struck me from my thoughts.
Carefully, I stood praying that Tristan wouldn’t wake up. He didn’t…luckily. As I tip-toed away (although I don’t know why I did, it wasn’t like I could make any sound that overpowered the general buzz of the party), I decided that it was probably the best thing to happen all night.
Walking away, I realized I didn’t have anything else to do. Sighing, I made my way over to the refreshment table and grabbed a new cup, since I couldn’t remember what happened to the first. I filled it up with some good old Ogden’s Firewhiskey and took a swig.
It was disgusting. Just as I had expected.
When I finished, I stared blankly at the empty cup…debating with myself.
Being drunk is really fun.
The devil on my shoulder commented.
But you’re alone at a party full of Gryffindors.
The angel retorted.
At least, they’re not Slytherins.
The devil replied cheekily.
I laughed out loud at my inner dialogue, causing some stray Ravenclaw 7th year to cast me quite an odd look.
Oh, if only the world could hear what I was thinking…
Actually on second thought that would probably be a bad idea.
A very, very bad idea.
I couldn’t move.
There was a wall in front of me. A hard, unmoving, brick wall.
Huh. How did it get there??
I wondered silently to myself, my mind all over the place.
My eyesight was greatly impaired, my head was spinning and I couldn’t concentrate on anything for more than a second. My eyes kept going out of focus and nothing sounded better than a nap at that very moment.
Yes, I was definitely drunk.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, underage drinking is bad and all that, I know but…sometimes, it’s fun to let the devil in me win.
Suddenly, I took what I believed to be my hand and pushed against the wall, it was softer than I first believed…well that was funny…
Oh shit, it speaks.
“Yeah, I guess I do.”
“I – I said that out loud…?” I asked slowly, tasting each word in my mouth…all of which tasted unsurprisingly like Firewhiskey…and chicken?
The figure (wall? Do walls talk?
) in front of me nodded, causing me to burst into uncontrollable laughter that only stopped when I forgot why I had started in the first place.
I looked up, opening my eyes as wide as they would go in an attempt to let the world fall into focus.
I must look odd.
I thought as my eyes fixated. I probably look like a bug…buzzzzzzz buzz—no! Don’t get distracted. Look. Wall.
And that was exactly what I did. As my eyes focused, I cocked my head to the side in examination. The wall looked oddly similar to Scorpius Malfoy…they could be twins…
I didn’t really like the wall anymore.
“Wanna know a secret?” I slurred, stumbling closer to him as to make sure he would hear…after all, I wasn’t sure I could hear myself and if I couldn’t hear me then why would he hear me…?
“Sure. But first let’s sit down before a certain someone falls over,” the wall sighed, grabbing me (walls have arms? Huh. You learn something new every day
) tightly by the wrist and dragging me over to an armchair.
Oh, man it was comfy, if I turned my head to the side just like that and I –
No, secret. Don’t. Get. Distracted.
I swear, I develop A.D.D. whenever I’m drunk…
“Secret!” I shouted out, and then looked about me embarrassedly before bursting out into laughter.
I like laughing…
I though dizzily. It’s fun…kind of like having a seizure…except they aren’t fun…though I guess I wouldn’t know, I’ve never had one…
“Yes, secret,” the wall sighed, crouching down beside me.
For a moment, I was confused by sudden deja-vu. Hadn’t this all happened before…but the other way around…?
“Scorpius Malfoy is a thief!” I yelled, or maybe I didn’t…I couldn’t quite tell.
The wall raised an eyebrow. An attractive eyebrow…Can eyebrows be attractive?
“But don’t tell anyone,” I whispered, leaning in, “it’s a secret.”
“And what exactly did he steal?” The wall asked, suddenly seeming a lot more interested in me than before.
“My life,” as if it were the most obvious answer in the world, I rolled my eyes, and instantly regretted it. Not a good idea as the world subsequently began to spin.
I tried standing up to regain my bearing (doesn’t quite make sense sober but then it seemed like a really great idea then).
“Listen, Rose,” the wall spoke quickly, “you need to lay down. You’re really drunk right now and if you don’t sit down, you might hurt yourself. And then James –”
I stopped listening.
The wall really talks too much.
I thought, awkwardly trying to piece together what I thought was reality. It needs to shut up.
And so, I kissed him as that seemed to be the only logical response at the time.
God, I really was an idiot sometimes.
For a second, he was unresponsive, frozen, and I felt my drunken self about ready to break down in tears. However, just as I was trying to figure out how to go about that while my eyes were closed and my mouth was on his, he kissed me back.
It felt…nice. Or at least, I think it did. I can’t exactly remember.
As his hands wrapped around the back of my head and tangled into my hair, I pulled him closer to me, easing my mouth over his. It felt perfect, as if we had done it a hundred times before. Scorpius responded eagerly, pressing his mouth fiercely against mine. I groaned and pulled him closer, but he just couldn’t get close enough.
It was as if a flame had been ignited by the touch of our lips, a spark that continued to grow with time. As our mouths pressed against each other, we succumbed to our animal like urges and left all rational thought behind. The kiss was electrifying and despite being completely wasted, I don’t think I’ve ever had a better kiss. It was just…perfect. Passionate and tender all at the same time…I don’t think I had ever felt so desired in my entire lifetime. His lips were soft and the way they caressed mine seemed to slow down time, well, that and the alcohol.
We came up for air, only pausing a moment to lock eyes.
I didn’t know walls had green eyes…
It was my last coherent thought before I blacked out.
Looks like someone forgot to breath…oh Rose…haha(:
Well I hope you enjoyed that! I loved writing it. Sorry it’s a bit sorter but it is what it is!
So what do you think? Mind you, Scorpius isn’t perfect and he IS a teenage boy so don’t be too hard on him for giving in and taking advantage of Rose(;
What do you think will happen next? What do you want to happen? Leave me a review(: and I promise the next chapter will get validated the first time!