The word won't leave me alone, no matter how hard I try to come up with nicer words, ones that don't make me want to vomit, like 'party' and 'Summer'. But no, 'graduation' wants to stay. And on the rare occasions that the word does disappear, it is quickly replaced by 'adulthood' and 'job', which is actually just as bad. Worse even.
They are words that remind me of my future, one this is starting to happen surprisingly quickly now that I've graduated. As in no more Hogwarts, as in no longer leaving home for a school year. As in leaving home permanently and looking after myself!
I start to hyperventilate just thinking about no longer living with my dad. I need my dad. I wonder if he'll let me stay with him forever, he loves me enough, I know he does. I'm Daddy's Angel. He couldn't wait for my idiot brother to leave, but me? No. I know I can stay...
Okay, maybe Dad wanting Kieron out of the house is a bit of an exaggeration. He tells us frequently that he, and I quote directly, loves us both equally. But we both questioned Big Brother's 'activities' in his bedroom, especially with his 'friend'.
Note to self: Say hi to Nicky Weasley.
...I do actually like Kieron's friend. (Boyfriend.)
I can't believe Kieron now actually lives with Nicky, mostly because I can't believe Nicky can put up with him (it's how you know it's love), but also because he did it. He left home after graduation and made a new life, with a job and an apartment and a partner. He didn't freak out or get scared as we usually tend to do with the thought of commitment. I must ask him how he did that.
Because I have no freaking idea what to do now!
I sigh in my seat and rest my chin on my right arm, with my left raised to twirl my finger in my empty bottle. It's my year's graduation party, which I think is kinda pointless considering the graduation was at Hogwarts yesterday, but this party was organized by parents. They hired a venue here in London, with a DJ, bought the food and the drink - they actually trust us enough to keep the supply of alcohol - so it's an open bar.
I think it was primarily my dad and Mr. Potter. They kinda work together at the Ministry, so they talk a lot (my dad is the lead Hit Wizard, while Mr. Potter is Head Auror). I haven't spoken to Mr. Potter since I was eleven and stopped going with Dad to work because I had Hogwarts in the year and friends to visit and who visisted in the summer, though I still saw him at King's Cross and was polite enough to wave.
He's not bad, I have no idea what Uncle Draco keeps talking about. His son's a pain in the arse, though...
"All alone, Nott? Not like you."
...Speak of the devil.
I look up, my hand moving from the glass to cup my chin. I smirk softly, it's the only 'mean' response he's going to get out of me, given I'm too lazy and, admittedly, still very much in shock over the fact that I'm now officially an adult to give my usual look. "What do you want, Potter?"
I'm all bark and no bite tonight. Pity, I miss the old me. I mean the usual me; I'm not gone for good.
Albus Potter flattens down his hair, which looks like a rainbow of colors due to the lights, and sits beside me. He brings his bottle to his lips and takes a good long drink before he turns to me. "So, what were you thinking about?"
I raise an eye-brow; what makes him think I'm thinking? "You're thinking about something if you'd rather sit alone and stare into space than sit with the Bubblehead Clan who call you a 'friend' while you think of ways to hurt them and they you."
I hate it when he's right. But he's only right because he knows me. We're not exactly best friends, but thanks to Kieron and Nicky dating and Al being as close to his cousin as I am to my brother (which is very, believe it or not), we do hang out a lot, like most of the time. We went to breakfast, sat with our 'friends', went to class, hid in the library and bitched about everyone in school, including said friends. Albus is actually very good at bitching. If it were ever to become a sport, I'm afraid to say he might just beat me. Might, never forget the might... Maybe we are best friends?
But our friendship works both ways and I know him just as well. Why, when not even half an hour ago I saw him laughing and joking with the friends he actually liked, was he suddenly over here, hiding with me and clinging to that bottle of beer like it's his lifeline? I take note of his frown and the narrowing of his eyes and the answer comes pretty quickly; he's sulking. I re-raise said eye-brow. "What happened?"
He scoffs and takes another long drink, but I just wait patiently. Or as patiently as I can be, considering I generally don't have a whole lot of it and I willingly admit that. I know he'll tell me, he always does. "I saw Phil Glover making out with Catrine."
I want to laugh and tell him that it never would have happened if he had only asked her out when he had the chance, but I fear our usual joke won't have the same effect as normal and keep my mouth shut. Instead I scan the room for any sign of the couple, I don't want them near to see him sulk, then stand up; the empty bar is my destination and alcohol is our answer. My Grandfather Greengrass tells me alcohol is helpful when the occasion calls for it and, for once, I hope he's right, because after seeing the look on Albus' face, the occasion definitely calls for more alcohol.
"Where are you going?" he asks, grabbing my arm.
I jerk my head to our left. "To the bar, we need drinks." He lets go of my arm, understanding completely, and nods. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
With people either around the tables or on the dancefloor and the bar relatively empty, it really does only take a few minutes for me to get our drinks and come back. I order four of whatever drink Albus had brought with him, two each so we don't have to go back as quickly, and sit down at his side. I pass him his two and we each hold up a bottle, banging them together in salute before we drink.
I sincerely hope I don't regret this...
...Turns out they're not so bad and we order more and more, soon followed by another drink he called shots. We compete with those drinks, seeing who can drink the fastest. At first it's Albus who keeps winning, but the more I drink the more comfortable I become and I'm soon drinking him under the table, an expression I hear my brother say to Nicky all the time.
"Hey, do you think Kieron and Nicky will let me plan their wedding?" I say suddenly, thinking of Nicky reminding me.
He bursts out laughing. "I didn't even know your brother had finally plucked up the courage to ask Dom to marry him," is his answer.
I frown. I hate it when his family calls Dominique 'Dom'. He is quite obviously a 'Nicky', though his professional work name is 'Nick'. But his family have been calling him that since he was born and he's too used to it to get them to stop, not even for me. He tells me it'd be weird if anyone other than Kieron and I called him 'Nicky' and I like that I have something no one else does (my brother does not count), so I don't say anything about it. "Well, not yet, but you just know it's inevitable."
"Maybe. In that case, no, they won't let you; Dom's a control freak, he'd wanna do it himself. But he likes you, so he might let you help," Albus says. I can accept that; one of the things I like about him is our similar tastes.
Potential weddings soon leave my mind when we continue our game.
"I just can't believe she'd rather be with Phil Glover than me. How is that possible?"
I find it hard to concentrate and just shake my head; I've lost count of how much we've drank, but it's leaving me rather calm and funny at the same time. I've never been drunk before, but I get the feeling this is drunk me. Albus, however, has been drunk before and I've seen him. He's gets overly emotional. "She doesn't know what's she's missing."
"She doesn't. And now she'll never know."
"Good for you, find someone else."
"Just don't cry on me again."
"I won't c- Hey!" A few minutes of weird silence and we erupt into a fit giggles. "Lets talk about you instead, then. Why were you hiding here?"
"I don't want to grow up," I tell him softly. That wasn't meant to sound so weak and... sad. Maybe alcohol leaves me feeling overly emotional, too. Maybe everyone... I feel a little more sorry for Albus now.
"Everybody grows up, whether you like it or not, Alexa." He turns my head so I face him, looks straight at me with his green eyes. "We are close?"
I shrug. "Close enough, I think. We hang out, talk, laugh. But the only reason we tell each other our deepest, darkest secrets is because we make each other," I laugh at that last part. He doesn't. Instead he leans forward and kisses me. I forget everything around me for a few seconds and just sit there, unmoving. I don't register until his hand slides down my cheek to hold onto my elbow. The movement sends shivers down my spine, which causes me to jump back and I stand. "I need some air."
"Alexa!" he shouts to me, but I don't stop, not until I'm outside of the club and into the street. The cool air does nothing to clear my mind, but it cools my suddenly hot, alcohol fueled body. "Alexa, please."
Damn him. I should have known he'd follow me, but I can't handle this. When I said to find someone else, I didn't mean me. "Look, Al," I start, turning around.
He cuts me off, prevents me from saying anymore, by bringing his lips to my own again. This time he's more determined than before for me to want it, to kiss him back.
I don't know if it's the alcohol or if it's me or if I'm just crazy, but I do. I kiss him back and I don't care why.
I just want more.
A/N: For the Mothers in the Making challenge and my second time ever writing a pregnancy story, though only my first one currently posted. Also, first Albus/OC. Exciting. :)
I hope you enjoy and like the idea of Male!Dom; I rarely see it and I love it, so I have to include him. :P
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