Printer Friendly Version ] [ Report Abuse ]
<< >>

How Firewhiskey Ruined My Life by majamariamaja
Chapter 3 : Baby, it's cold outside!
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 9


Font:  
Background:   Font color:  

Lovely CI by enchantedx @ tda :)




Chapter 3. Baby, it's cold outside!








It's amazing sometimes how well my adoration for the fairer sex can talk me into shit.

Particularly when I've downed both an entire bottle of firewhiskey(which magically refills like four times) and meade. If there's a female in my immediate radius, I lose what little self-control I have and just pounce. Like a ninja. A very drunk, uncoordinated, slurring ninja.

I just can't seem to think straight; or think at all, really.

That was definitely the case last night. Maybe I had a fleeting thought in the way, way far back of my mind about how wrong it was to do what I was doing. But yeah, we all know how that went.

I think that fleeting thought may have been pushed out of there because there were too many tongues in my mouth: hers and mine. Which is one too much. I tend to lose it when they bite my lip a bit too, and I'm fairly certain she did, because I note just now that my lower lip is sort of swollen.

I pick at an almost-scab forming on my one knee. Rug burn, I think - identifying the mark with ease - and shake my head at this realisation. I don't really want to ask myself how I got a rug burn, so I get up from where I was sitting on the bed.

I hate not remembering things. Hate it. Being out of control is not a good colour on me. So I end up pacing the floor in the dormitory, finding a thong here and a sock there. I actually find Evans's bra hanging from the lamp in the ceiling.

How the hell...

I need air.

I need to get out of this place; where the room knows more about what happened than I do.

After throwing on a jumper with the zipper in front, and a pair of worn-out jeans(that my mother always hated, and therefore I wear them all the time) I walk fast-paced out of the castle.

Being human is too complicated, I observe, and throw a quick glance around to assure myself that nobody is near. I creep behind a tree, strip down and then transform myself into the familiar dog-like creature. My senses take over, and before I know it, I'm running toward the Forbidden Forest. The wind howls in my ears, but I then realise that the sound is coming from me.

It's freeing. Being in this canine form makes things clearer. There's no gray areas, no betrayal of friends, no drama. I prefer to be a dog. If I can, I'd make it permanent. Prongs suggests this all the time, saying I'm much more attractive as a dog.

Cheers, mate.

I only vaguely notice another person out here. A girl, I think. But she's skating on the thick ice covering the Black Lake, so I don't worry too much.

Minutes turn into hours, and it feels as though I've been running forever. I suddenly remember that I still haven't eaten anything, and go back to the tree where I hid my clothes.

The transformation from dog to human is always a downer. Therefore, I stand still for a few seconds - hidden completely from view behind the large tree.

Or so I think.

Someone gasps and I quickly turn around - forgetting to conceal myself - and catch a very red-faced girl awkwardly averting her eyes with a mitten-covered hand.

"I-I'm so sorry!" she manages to press out. "I-I didn't, I mean, I-I had no idea that you were-are, ehm-"

"Naked," I finish, and then use my jumper to hide my lower body.

"Y-Yeah," she stutters, her other hand is holding onto a pair of pink-ish ice skates. "Ehm, sorry."

Her voice sounds positively distressed, and I let out a bark of laughter. This seems to throw her off, and for a second the hand covering her eyes slips and she gives me a strange look.

"A-Aren't you cold?" she asks after jerking her hand up to her eyes yet again.

"I guess I am," I say and then begin to dress. After putting my shoes on and neglecting to tie my shoelaces, I stare at the girl in front of me. "It's safe to remove that hand now, if you want," I tell her with a chuckle.

"Oh, yes, o-of course." Her hand lowers, and she puts it jerkily in the pocket of her rather large coat. It must be at least four sizes too big.

Or maybe she's four sizes too small.

Seriously though, she's really tiny.

"So, now that you've seen me naked, I guess it's only appropriate that I introduce myself. I'm-"

"Sirius Black," she finishes with a shy smile, "I know."

I wish I were taken aback by this, but I'm not. In fact, she must've been deaf, dumb and blind to not know who I am. I'm a Hogwarts legend.

"Then you have the upper hand," I say while I lean against the treetrunk. "Because I don't know your name."

The girl is grinning to herself in a very bashful way. It's the kind of smile that only those who still have their V-card intact can produce. It's true. I'm a master of body language. I can read people like open books...not that I really read books, or anything. Only Moony reads books. I just get him to summarize them for me.

"It's Tasey Mufflin," she tells me in a timid voice, and lifting her head to grant me a small smile.

Prepare teasing-mode. In three, two, one -

"Your name is Tasty Muffin? What are you, a stripper?" I let out a laugh.

Oh, blimey! I should be a bloody comedian.

Hold the applause please.

...no applause? Wait, the audience is quiet.

Muffin looks up at me with a look I can't really decipher. Therefore, I have no idea how to react. If she's angry, sad, annoyed or furious, I know how to handle it. Answer: I'd bolt.

But she just looks at me.

"What?" I ask. I'm beginning to feel uncomfortable.

Muffin shrugs.

"Come on," I say, pushing myself away from the tree. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" She doesn't say this in a girly, sour sort of way, she's actually wondering.

"Like-like, I... I dunno!"

She squints her eyes at me. Blue eyes, I note. I like them.

Better than diabolical green, at least. But that's not a hard match to win - even Wormtail has nicer eyes.

Wait....did that sound gay?

I take it back!

I'm into girls. Literally, as a matter of fact.

"I'm not a stripper," she tells me. She's not hurt, nor mad. She's just saying this as if to clear up the confusion.

"I was joking."

"I didn't really think it was funny."

If it were any other girl, she would've either screamed my head off and marched away, or stood there crying, hurt by my joke. This girl does neither.

"Oh, ehm... Sorry."

What? I'm apologizing?

I never apologize! Didn't even do it when I hexed Prongs's clothes so that they were completely invisible, and he got detention for publically flaunting himself. He had to see a counsellor for the rest of that year. What did I do instead of apologizing? I laughed. I laughed my arse off - repeatedly. I still grin at the memory.

Might have to apologize for that whole drunken sex with Evans situation, though... If he ever finds out.

Which he never will.

I need to have a little chat with Evans about that.

"It's okay."

Oh, yes. There's someone else here.

"What?"

"It's okay. There's no need to apologize. It's a common mistake," she says, sighing. She puts the weight of the ice skates over to her other hand, and uses the free hand to push a lock of blonde hair back under the hood of her coat.

"It is?" I ask surprised.

"Yes, a lot of people have asked me that. So I'm sort of used to it."

Her mittens have hearts on them. Sorry, but I just noticed. And that rather large coat is bright purple, with small bows on the buttons. She's a real girly girl this one. Unlike Evans, who cusses like a sailor, and eats like one too. I mean, I love it when girls eat more than a leaf a day, but Evans gets more food on herself than in herself.

Why does Prongs like her so much?

"I'm cold."

I look down at the tiny girl. Of course she's cold; judging by her toothpick-legs she probably hasn't got an ounce of fat on her body. She needs to go on a serious cupcake-binge.

"Yeah, of course, let's go," I say and take a step forward.

"Oh, no. I-I wasn't hinting- I just, you don't need to come with me. You seemed kind of, ehm, busy. And I don't want to interrupt-"

Is this girl for real?

"It's fine," I chuckle, and give her a smile. "I'm not exactly sweating, myself."

Hesitantly, Muffin follows me as I start my trek up to the castle. She's so quiet I need to turn and look at her to assure myself she's there.

"So, Muffin-"

"It's Mufflin."

"I prefer Muffin."

"But that's not my name."

"No, I'm giving you a nickname."

"Oh."

"So, Muffin," I start again, grinning at the innocent girl at my side(who's smiling shyly back up at me in a way Evans never could - that wench), "which year are you in?"

"Sixth," she tells me in her quiet voice.

"Really?" I'm actually surprised. She doesn't look a day over thirteen.

"I know, I'm quite small," she admits, shrugging her shoulders. It looks comical; the entire coat moves along with her shrug, and it sort of looks like she's dancing.

I don't know how to respond, so I change the subject.

"Which house? Wait, let me guess; Hufflepuff?"

"No," she grins at me now, giggling like a lovesick puppy. I should vomit at this sound, but I don't. "Slytherin."

Whoa. Okay, now I need to vomit.

"What?" I exclaim, stopping in the middle of the path. I spin around and look at her. "But-but, you're not, you don't look, I mean - you're nice."

"Slytherins can be nice too, you know," she informs me. Her eyes are doing the smiling. The rest of her face isn't.

"Well...apparently," I manage to say. It sounds choked.

It doesn't add up. Nice, sweet, innocent girls don't end up in bloody Slytherin. They end up everywhere but Slytherin. Unless they're secretly evil... Luring their poor victims in with their charming giggles and soft blue eyes, and then snap!

I don't know what that snap is, but it seemed appropriate.

"If you don't want to walk with me anymore, I understand," she mumbles. That voice is too small, too quiet, too likable to belong to someone of that house. They're slick. They're disgusting. Evil.

She's walking away, her ice skates dangling from her one hand. It looks mostly like a coat walking on stilts, to be honest. I grin.

But even though I know it's stupid, I can't make myself catch up to her.

She is a Slytherin.

It must've been because of that fact that I haven't noticed her before. I tend to treat students in Slytherin robes like dirt under my shoes, or an annoying fly. And I think that a lot of times I just ignore them. They're too stupid and ugly to be noticed.

I hate Slytherins; Slytherins hate me. That's how it's always been. I've been here for almost seven years, and nothing has ever challenged the view I had of these people.

So this is a bit confusing.

Hell.

I'm sick of thinking.

I'm hungry. And cold.

With this I put all thoughs aside and walk up to the castle, and into the Great Hall with my mind pleasantly empty.

Which is the way I prefer my mind to be.


------
A/N:

Thanks for reading! Hope to read your thoughts on this chapter! :D

What do you guys think of 'Muffin'? :) I like her ^^

*Maria


Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Favorite |Reading List |Currently Reading

<< >>


Review Write a Review
How Firewhiskey Ruined My Life: Baby, it's cold outside!

Review

(6000 characters max.) 6000 remaining

Your Name:
Rating:

Prove you are Human:
What is the name of the Harry Potter character seen in the image on the left?


Submit this review and continue reading next chapter.
 

Other Similar Stories

No similar stories found!