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Albus Potter was a nervous wreck. His hair was sticking out at all angles (not that it was too different than usual) and he kept tugging at it. Making it worse. He was on the bench sidelining the pitch, elbows propped on his thighs, making disgruntled noises over and over again.
Until Rose kicked him in the shin. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she snapped. “You’re interrupting my practice. Bitch and moan on your own time, Potter.”
“Can I have Gee?” Al whined.
“What?” Rose sat down beside him. I took the opportunity to toss my broom to the side and use this as an excuse not to practice. Besides, the Chasers were pulling a number on Teo anyway. James sat on the other side of his brother.
“I need a Chaser.”
Rose’s red brow arched. “Why?”
“Because Davies isn’t playing this season,” Albus all but shouted, his voice breaking. He looked like he was about to have a nervous breakdown.
“Ryan Davies?” James asked. He glanced over, meeting my eyes. I tried to shrug. “What for? She’s your whole team.”
“Thanks,” Al shot back. “That’s obvious. She’s our star. She scores seventy-five percent of the goals! Just let me have Gee.”
“Pretty sure that’s not allowed,” Rose said. She began to rub his back, every so often glancing up at her own team. “Gee wouldn’t do well as a Ravenclaw. Too many years of trashy beach-reads. She’d never be able to solve that riddle.”
Albus laughed a little. “What am I going to do? The team doesn’t know yet. Rox isn’t going to be able to handle it.”
“Did she say why?” James asked. I wanted to punch him.
“She told me she couldn’t,” Albus explained, pulling at his hair again. “She said she couldn’t play and offered to help me on the sidelines and train one of the reserves to get up to her standards … you do realize none of those reserves will ever be dirt on her shoes, right?”
He may have been proud, but Albus wasn’t wrong. Ryan made me look like a two year old trying to stay on a broom. Rumor around the pitch was she had an opportunity to play pro while she was at Hogwarts, but turned it down to concentrate on school. Like she needed to concentrate. Information just went into her brain and stayed there through all the snarky retorts.
And now she wasn’t going to play. No more star Ravenclaw Chaser.
Albus was going to kill me for knocking her up. Rose was going to hug me.
I abandoned the pity party and showered before escaping back to the castle. Rox didn’t meet my eyes when we passed on the marble staircase. I wouldn’t have known what to do if she did.
I barricaded myself into the Prefect’s office, trying hard to get some work done. The problem was, my heart wasn’t into it. All I could think about was that conversation between Albus and Ryan. What it must have looked like. The heartbreak that must have been in her eyes (for the first time).
And I felt guilty for all of it.
It was a different kind of guilt – the kind you can’t control. The helpless kind.
It was the same kind I felt every time Dad looked at me in a certain way. Like I was his brother. It killed me.
This was killing me.
I had to concentrate on the Prefect documents. Some Slytherins in trouble. A Hufflepuff caught cheating. A Ravenclaw dueling in the hallway. Several Gryffindors being stupid.
I pulled out a folder labeled Ryan Davies. It was her Prefect folder.
This could get interesting.
The first document was from her writing up a group of Slytherins for playing football in the hall. Her handwriting was sprawling cursive. It reminded me of formal English documents from the eighteenth century.
The second was from an incident with a bloke last year. He was a seventh year Slytherin. I vaguely remembered him, but not enough to put a face to a name. Maybe black hair? Unsure. According to the parchment, the bloke had called her some fairly colorful names after she caught him being rather inappropriate with a girl in the third floor corridor. Each insult was written out on the line.
I couldn’t read the last few because I was shaking just thinking about someone calling someone else these things.
Especially Ryan. I felt protective over her. Not that I had a right to be protective over anyone (except James), but I still did.
Because of the guilt.
“If you get to the end there are several with internal notes about how I threatened to peel back their toenails,” Ryan said from the door. Her arms were folded and she looked bored.
“Shit.” I shoved the papers back into the folder and closed it. “I got curious.”
“You’re an ass.” She grabbed the folder out of my hand. “Those are private.”
“I’m a Prefect too,” I shot back, staring her down.
“Clearly not a very good one, as you don’t follow rules.” Ryan pulled open the drawer and stuffed the folder in after making sure it was in the correct order. “What were you expecting to find in there anyway?”
“Ammo?” I raised a brow. “I don’t know. I’m just trying to get away for a while.”
Ryan leaned against the cabinet. “From what? You have nothing to get away from.”
“Al told us you quit the team.”
Though she kept her expression strong, her eyes gave it away immediately.
“I did,” she replied flatly.
“Do you hate me?” I had no idea why I was asking that.
“I’m not exactly fond of you. But like you said, Weasley, it takes two to tango.” Ryan shot me a cocky wink, which I wasn’t expecting. She looked good doing it. I wished she wouldn’t.
I chuckled, moving to ruffle my hair. “What d’you want to do then?”
“About what?” She shifted and sat on the edge of the desk, crossing her long legs.
I narrowed my eyes. How was she able to get under my skin like that? “About the sodding baby, Davies. Come on.” I rolled up the extra papers on the desk and slapped her leg. “You’re quitting the team. People are going to get suspicious.”
She was quiet for a moment and straightened the fabric on her pants. “Is there a reason I get to make all the choices?”
“Because you are obsessed with control?” I offered, surprising myself with a lopsided smirk.
Ryan smirked. “C’mon.” She reached out her hand. “If we’re going to make a plan, it’s not going to be in the fucking Prefect office. This place smells like Rune.”
“And Molly,” I added.
“Your cousin? Head Girl?” Ryan’s brows raised as she pulled open the door.
“They’re snogging.” I had no idea why I told her. I had no reason to, but it just sort of came out. Maybe I trusted or. Or maybe I just wanted to seem cool because I knew insider information.
Wish I didn’t. That image still hadn’t gone away. Ugh.
“That’s disgusting.” Once my hand was in hers, she led us into the hallway. “Time to disappear.”
“James has a cloak for those things,” I offered.
“You talk about James too much.”
“He’s my cousin.”
“That’s just it.” Ryan glanced over her shoulder and smirked at me. I wondered why she was so animated, but it could have been just because she was depressed after announcing her resignation. I was the perfect distraction. And someone she didn’t have to pretend around.
“You would love James,” I said, catching up with her so our arms could rest at our sides. She didn’t let go.
“I don’t like James. He’s cocky and too in love with Ollie.” Ryan rolled her eyes. “Any bloke that in love is hiding something.”
“He can’t just be in love?”
“Not that in love.”
“What’s so wrong with being that in love?” I asked, eyes narrowing. James was the most loving person I knew. He got on a table and professed it in front of the whole bloody school. And he always hugged the most in the family. James gave great hugs.
“It’s a fairy tale.” Ryan met my eyes for a moment, something that made my heart stop. “It’s not real.”
“I’m right.” She shrugged and led me through a door.
I had no idea where we were, but once Ryan lit a candle I realized we must be in the storage room of the library. It was dark, stuffy, and smelled like old books. Tons of them lined the walls and tipped in piles on the floor.
“Don’t tell anyone about this,” Ryan said, lighting another two candles.
“Pretty sure I don’t remember how we got here.” My eyes moved around the room. A lot of old books I couldn’t pronounce. A lot of Latin. A lot of uncomfortable Freddie Weasley.
I needed to be tutored by a Ravenclaw in how to read Latin or how to read Annie’s shit handwriting.
Ryan finished with the candles and sat on the floor, curling her legs under her. “Pretty sure I’m the only clerk who comes back here anyway,” she said. “We won’t be disturbed.”
“Did you bring any butter knives?” I slid down beside her, leaning against a stack of books. This was definitely a different setting than after she threw up in a bathroom. She looked comfortable.
I could never imagine books making me comfortable. If anything, it was the opposite.
What made me comfortable? The shop? Quidditch pitch?
Ryan chuckled and stretched out her legs, plopping them onto my lap. “We need a plan.”
“A good one,” I added. I fought to keep my eyes off her stomach, even though she was only a couple weeks pregnant and nothing was there.
Maybe it was a guy thing. Or a paranoia thing. Or a guilt thing.
Mental Note: WWW Guilt Potion?
“We’re going to keep it a secret,” Ryan told me, her dark eyes now on mine.
I thought about James. If James had gotten Ollie pregnant, I’d want him to tell me. But could I trust him to keep it quiet? He told Ollie everything. Then Ollie may tell Annie. Or the rest of the school. Then everything would be ruined. I couldn’t tell James. At least not yet. Not until I had any inkling of if this relationship with Annie would turn into anything.
Well, it wasn’t a relationship.
It was a relation-thing.
I didn’t want to think about Annie right now. Especially in relation to her even speaking to Andrew. What a sod. I hoped James offed him for looking at Ollie.
“A secret,” I finally echoed, nodding. “All right. That’s a good idea. We can concentrate on our…lives.”
“And when it gets obvious?” Ryan was biting her bottom lip in the same way Annie did.
“I guess that’s your decision,” I said. I wished I’d quit. “Whether you want me kept a secret or not. According to you, I’m not exactly the best bloke to be fathering a kid.” I smirked, nudging her leg. “Just tell everyone Gemma is the father. I’d believe it.”
Ryan laughed, her fingers twisting in the material of her shirt. “I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, hmm?”
“So are you really going to help on the pitch?”
“I can’t stay off it,” she said, meeting my eyes. “I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t play Quidditch.”
She snorted. “Don’t make me laugh. I’m a Ravenclaw.”
“Don’t Ravenclaws study?”
“First years maybe.” She was looking at me like I was crazy. “So when that time comes … what if I decide not to keep you a secret?”
I concentrated on her leg, the way it poked out of her pants. She was wearing sandals even though it was chilly outside. Her toenails were painted a deep, plum purple. “I told you I’d take responsibility. And I will.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“I know,” I replied quietly, my heart starting to race. “But I can’t let you do this alone.”
“If you haven’t noticed, that’s kind of how I operate.” Ryan pulled her legs off me and to her chest. She wrapped her arms around them and was quiet for a while. “I still don’t like you.”
“Yeah, well, you’re a bit of a tot, aren’t you?”
She kicked me. “I’ve knocked you out once, I’ll do it again.”
I didn’t doubt that.
“All right. Secret.” I ran my fingers along a nearby pile of books, but regretted it once they were covered in dust. Gross. “Are you going to tell your parents?”
To my surprise, she laughed. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not? Wouldn’t approve?”
Ryan chuckled, shaking her head. She picked up a book and began flipping through it absently. “I don’t think they’d favor the knowledge of their only daughter getting knocked up by some Gryffindor they’ve never heard of.”
“To be fair, have they heard of any Gryffindors?”
She thought for a moment. “Probably James,” she replied with an arrogant smirk. “Since he has a famous family and all.”
“I have a famous family!”
“You have a joke shop.”
“Look here,” I said, eyes narrowing. “That is the Ministry of Magic of bloody joke shops.”
“Excuse me,” Ryan said sweetly. “I forgot to praise your ability to make schoolchildren vomit. I can do that and all I had to do was shag in a bathroom stall.”
“Pretty sure you’re insulting me right now.” I folded my arms like a child.
“Pretty sure you’re not doing anything about it.”
“You’re quite a bully for a Ravenclaw,” I said, tossing a book onto her legs.
Ryan met my eyes. “Someone has to do it.” She threw the book back, smacking me in the shoulder. “Gemma would be disappointed if she knew I’d spoken to you without at least getting a rise out of you.”
I leaned back, creating a mini sort of pillow out of books. Were they good for anything else? “Is that what you do then? Get bored and try to get under people’s skin?”
“Can you think of an alternative?” When Ryan met my eyes it made me nervous. Not in the sort of wonky adrenaline way, but in the way that I couldn’t bloody understand a thing she was talking about.
James had a theory about how Ravenclaws thought on an entirely different plane than the rest of us. Ryan struck me as one of those kinds of people. Like she was reading my thoughts or something.
Shit! What if she was reading my thoughts?
Spicy mushroom wrap.
Was I hungry?
I needed to think about something other than her eyes or her face or her body.
I was NOT thinking about Ryan’s body.
She was a Quidditch player, though. So how could I not?
This was not boding well.
She was still staring at me.
Great. Now she knew.
“Are you okay?” Ryan’s dark brow raised and she started leafing through another book. “You look ill.”
“Fine,” I replied, for the millionth time this month. I couldn’t keep doing this.
I was not fine. I was not going to be fine.
And the reason was the slender girl in front of me. She wouldn’t always be slender.
That terrified me.
Your letter was three lines.
Do you remember the last time you wrote me a letter that was three lines? I’ll give you a hint? You were four. What’s wrong?
Great. Did Annie not agree to let you touch her boobs?
You can’t just ask, Freddo.
Girls get weird about that kind of thing.
Whatever it is, I’m concerned. Want to come home and have a chat? I’ll buy. The butterbeer I mean. Actually, you should come home for a weekend. I can have the Network hooked up because these baby puffs are giving me problems. To clarify, I’m not talking about baby Hufflepuffs, because they couldn’t give a toad a problem. Why are Hufflepuffs so nice?
You still Prefect partners with that Hufflepuff? What’s her name? Japan? Russia?
Can’t you trade or something? Here’s an idea. Get Molly in trouble and then they’ll make someone else Head Girl so you can have her back. My ideas are the best. If you need evidence to plant I know a guy.
Seriously, what’s wrong? You’re concerning me now. Don’t make me tell your mum. I will. And then she’ll give me that ‘Freddie’s a teenager’ look and ignore it.
Tell James if it’s serious. Mostly because I can crack James so easy.
I frowned, rereading the letter a few times before I finally folded it and stuck it in my bedside drawer. I wanted nothing more than to tell Dad. I actually would have liked to go into detail about what this would do to me as a person, how fucking terrified I was, and my mental escape plan to Canada.
But I couldn’t. How could I possibly go home and tell him?
Thanks for bringing me up correctly, Dad. Now I got a girl pregnant, she’s keeping the kid, and I’m going to be a father at seventeen.
Well, I’ll be eighteen by then, but does it make a huge difference?
“Studying?” James walked in the door, slamming it behind him. “I thought we talked about this.”
“About what? Studying.”
“I’m going to have to kick you off the team.”
“What team?” I scooted back on my bed and grabbed a random book off my nightstand. Oh, good. Potions. I’d rather read one of Gee’s romance novels.
“The Frames team.” James hopped up onto the bed, grabbed the book, and threw it at the wall. “What’s the plan for today? We have an entire Saturday to waste. Let’s waste it. Wasted.” He chuckled at his own humor.
“Where’s Ollie?” I wondered.
“With Annikins,” he replied, rolling onto his stomach. “You two a thing yet? It’s kind of pissing me off. Just get on a table and tell her you fancy her or some shit.”
I paused for a moment, picturing that. It made me uncomfortable. Public displays of anything made me uncomfortable. “Have you ever kept a secret from Ollie?”
“Loads,” James replied without missing a beat.
“What? What kind?”
“She doesn’t know I shave my toes,” replied James absently. “She doesn’t know I think that orange dress looks like shit on her. Or that I actually failed Charms first year.”
“What about big secrets?” I asked.
“I thought the toe thing was pretty big.” He shrugged, grabbing the covers and throwing them over his body. “I don’t think so. What do you mean? She’s met the ‘rents and they give out most the dirt on me anyway. Albus is the one that ratted me out about the sleepover we had when we were twelve and you stuck my underwear in the freezer. And then to spite you I wore it.”
I laughed, remembering the look on his face. He bit his lip so hard it bled. “Yeah, all right. Let’s get out of here before Mox comes in asking about tips to make a rude hand gesture.”
“Let’s wait,” James insisted with a gleeful grin. “I want to demonstrate.”
James and I opted for The Hog’s Head, as it wouldn’t be crawling with third years elbowing each other on a Saturday. Upon walking in, the bartender grinned. It was the same bloke as always and Dad mentioned being there on several occasions, but he didn’t say why.
“Two firewhiskies and double shots of rum,” James announced, plopping down at the counter. “And one of those little baskets of peanuts. I love peanuts.”
I sat beside him and took the shot immediately. “I think I have Prefect rounds tonight,” I commented.
“Another double,” James said, sliding it over to me. “Then maybe you can cop a feel on China.” He chuckled.
“She’s not my type,” I said. Like I didn’t have enough girl problems already.
“When you’re single, everyone is your type,” James replied and the bartender nodded gruffly. “Come on, Freddo, what’s wrong with her?”
“She talks too much.”
“Welcome to life. Every broad talks too much.”
“She’s a Hufflepuff.” That wasn’t exactly a reason. Or a negative, really.
“Well, okay, I’ll give you that.” James shrugged. “What about Gee? You should ask out Gee.”
“Pretty sure I’m going on dates with Annie,” I said. “That might disrupt Gryffindor Tower.”
“We don’t want that.” James tossed back part of his firewhiskey. “Heard from Uncle George? Any news?”
“Court stuff is coming together,” I replied. “Zonkos is pissed.”
“Let’s go egg the place,” he said with a charming smile.
“Cheers.” I put back half of my own firewhiskey. “Otherwise nothing. He’s raising another batch of pygmy puffs.”
“Let’s get hedgehogs!” James cried excitedly. “Seriously. Ollie’s parents have a hedgehog. We’re getting one. We’re getting like twenty. And a horse.”
“Sure. What goes together better than hedgehogs and horses?”
“Nothing?” I guessed.
I wasn’t drunk.
I’d never been drunk in my entire life.
What was drunk? Abstract reality of composition?
I didn’t even know what that meant. I just wanted to sound like Ryan.
I rubbed my left eye and twisted my body around, still holding onto the bar counter in an attempt to not fall on my face. It took a few moments, but I recognized the bloke standing behind us.
“Parise,” James said with a smart nod. “Didn’t know you ventured to these parts.”
“I try not to,” Andrew said. He was wearing a smarmy grin. “Didn’t you have Quidditch practice today?”
“Nope,” I said.
“Clearly you work hard,” Andrew said, leaning against the counter to order a firewhiskey. “What a pair of exceptional Beaters. Rose is lucky to have you.”
“Considering we win, yes, she is,” I said. All I could think about was him going out for drinks with Annie and it made my blood boil. “And surprise! We’re actually good Beaters. Those are quite hard to come by these days, you know.” I shot his smarmy, asshole smirk right back at him.
James just flipped him off.
“Oh, I know,” Andrew said, taking the stool beside me. “So how are things, gentlemen?”
First boys and then gentlemen. Fucking git.
“Things are brilliant, Parise,” James said. “Getting laid regularly.”
“Does Ollie know you brag about your private life so much?” Andrew asked.
James colored. “Yes, she does.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it.” He was sliding his finger around the rim of his glass. A few people glanced over, annoyed.
Great. Now the regulars would think we were hanging out with Andrew sodding Parise.
Was that gel in his hair?
Come on, man.
“And how are things with you, Freddie?” Andrew asked, turning his eyes away from James. “I’ve noticed you’ve had quite a few conversations with Gemma in Herbology lecture. Anything there?”
James burst out laughing.
“I think it’s safe to say nothing is there,” I replied in the kindest way I could. “But thank you for taking an interest. You’re too sweet.”
He forced a smile. “You two do realize once you take a step out of line, I’ll have that Beater position, right?”
“Pretty sure we’ve been okay for several years now,” I commented. “I believe we’ll be fine. Mostly because you bloody suck at Beating and we’re pretty brilliant at it.” Normally I would have been more Hufflepuff about it, but Parise was an ass and I couldn’t remember how many firewhiskeys I had.
“Pretty brilliant,” James agreed. Thanks, mate.
“You’re day drinking in Hogsmeade,” Andrew said. He had that grin again. I didn’t understand why he looked so arrogant. He wasn’t getting anywhere. “I’ll just wait. Don’t worry.”
“Do you want to play pro?” James asked.
“Of course I do. What Quidditch player doesn’t?”
Um. James and me.
“Too fucking bad,” James snapped at him. “Because scouts will never get a sodding look at your sorry arse while I’m around.”
Andrew’s brows raised. He leaned against the counter, trying to look as unfazed as possible. He did quite well, as he chuckled. “We’ll see, won’t we, Potter?” he asked softly. “Pretty sure Ollie won’t like that competitive edge.”
“She’s just as competitive as I am,” James shot back.
“She’s the one who encourages me to try out with Rose every year, you know,” he said.
James faltered. “Because she knows you can’t best me.”
Or me, apparently.
“Maybe she just doesn’t want to hurt your sweet little feelings.” Andrew finished his drink and slid the glass back across the counter. “Lovely chat, boys. I hope to do it again sometime.” He smirked and was gone, the door hitting the stopper hard when he let go.
James and I both swung back toward the bar. Speechless.
“Friend of yours?” Bartender asked.
“Hardly,” James replied. He looked at me. “You think he fancies Ollie?”
“I think he fancies Annie,” I replied.
Either way we were in trouble. In celebration, James ordered another round.
Making it back to the castle while intoxicated was a little different than when sober. James and I forgot this every time we went to Hogsmeade for a drink. James also forgot it was not okay to ask fourth years for a piggy-back ride to the castle and then scream at them that he is a Potter and they have to listen to him or he’ll sick his girlfriend on them.
I had little memory of the walk back. Or stumble. At one point there was crawling.
“This the castle?” James put his hand on the stone steps. “Please don’t tell me we’re at Hagrid’s. He already sat me down about alcohol awareness and gave me a ribbon to wear.”
“Pretty sure that was to keep you quiet because you were crying,” I muttered, hoisting myself onto the steps.
“I don’t cry.”
“You just cried at the pub because there were no sprinkles for your vodka,” I noted.
“It’s a scare tactic.”
“It’s cold outside.” I plopped down on the third step from the bottom, staring out at what I assumed was the lake. It was still light outside. Had to be sometime in the afternoon. Late afternoon? Next day? How long we were in that fucking pub?
The real question was: Was Andrew real or not real?
“Cold as shit,” James said, moving beside me. “Hey, that’s a girl.”
I looked. “There’s not a girl over there. It’s a tree.”
“Are you drunk, Weasley?”
Shit. It was a girl.
I squinted, nose scrunching as I tried to figure out who it was. The blurred vision and relentless giggles didn’t help.
Until Ryan slapped me on the side of the head.
“Yes!” I said. “Sort of. I mean no. I am responsible for James. He’s a bad influence and needs a detention. You’re a Prefect. Do that and shit.”
James elbowed me. “Hey, Davies. Fancy a date?” He snickered.
“Pretty sure your twittery Chaser girlfriend wouldn’t be too pleased,” Ryan replied dryly. “Did you two seriously get plastered in the middle of the day?”
“He started it,” I muttered.
“Why the judgment, Davies?” James asked. “Why don’t you come back with us? We’ll go back right now. I’m buying. I’d like to see you take a little of the edge off.”
“Sorry. I have to study.”
“Ah. Yes. Ravenclaw.” James emphasized the last word. “Pity. I’m a see and be seen kind of bloke, you know.”
This was drunk James. Snarky little bugger with an eye for everyone.
Ryan’s eyes were on me and it made me nervous. “Must be nice,” she said softly.
“I feel a bit sick so I’d have to disagree.” My fingers clutched the step below me. Everything was out of focus and I would have felt much more comfortable if I could make out her expression.
“To be able to just go get drunk when you want,” Ryan continued. I could tell she was smiling, but it wasn’t a friendly smile.
“I mean, I’ve got practice and stuff…”
“Just go right down to Hogsmeade and get piss drunk with your best friend / cousin / secret bromance.” Ryan laughed, leaning against the iron rail. “That must be just lovely.”
“It is,” James said. He was focused on his fingernails. They didn’t look all that interesting to me.
“Would you like to know what I did today, Weasley?” Ryan said.
I figured it would be rude if I declined, so I nodded.
“Bought vitamins,” she said, seething.
“Oh! Were they gummies?” I asked. Dad used to get me these dragon gummy vitamins when I was little. The red ones were the best.
“They were not,” Ryan said, eyes flashing. “I also bought lotion and other oddities I’ve never owned before in my life.”
“You should have owned lotion,” James said. “Makes your skin all soft and silky.” He paused. “Say, Davies, why aren’t you playing this year? Beating you brings me a special sense of pleasure.”
Wrong thing to say, James.
Especially since Ryan kicked him right in the thigh. James rolled off the stairs, whining loudly.
“What do you want me to do?” I said angrily. “Do you want me to just stop my bloody life?”
“I want you to fucking act like you aren’t just going along like normal!” she cried.
“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?”
“Go get drunk, Fred,” Ryan said through gritted teeth. “While you’re at it why don’t you take these.” She tugged a small box out of her pocket (how did it fit in there?) and chucked it at me, hitting me square in the face.
It was her pack of cigarettes.
“Why do you still have these?” I asked, looking up at her.
“Because they fit in my fucking pocket,” Ryan said. I could make out her face clearer now. “And I’m used to them being there.”
James grabbed the pack out of my hand and stuffed a cigarette into his mouth. “Light it! I’m in pain!”
“You do realize tobacco isn’t going to make the pain go away?” I asked, brow arching.
“LIGHT IT. I AM SO COOL NOW.”
Ryan tossed James the lighter and he burned himself three times before getting the cigarette lit.
I turned my attention back to the Ravenclaw. “You want me to stop drinking?”
“I want you to stop being an asshole,” Ryan snapped.
“How am I even doing that?” I whined.
James was trying to blow smoke rings and failing miserably.
“Just know that it must be so nice,” Ryan said, walking up the steps toward the castle. “That you have that sodding option.” She pulled open the door and disappeared.
“What was Davies talking about?” James asked, tapping the ashes off the end of the cigarette. Then he coughed and tried for more smoke rings. “And why won’t she go out with me?” he said through the corner of his mouth.
“She’s just sour my score was almost better than hers in Herbology,” I said with a sigh.
“What a giving person.” He rubbed his leg and puffed again, but then choked and spit the cigarette onto the ground. “Peer pressure doesn’t taste good, Freddo.”
“I’ll let Dad know,” I said with a smirk.
A/N: Thanks again to everyone who is reading! I appreciate the support and the support on my newest ScoRose fic! You are all so wonderful.
Anyway, YAY for drunk Fred & James. Of course I can't get through a story without it. Can you blame me? And who has thoughts on Andrew? At least he's attractive.
Which doesn't bode well for the boys ...
Please share any thoughts! Thanks again!
NEXT UP: China, Roxy, Annie and ... DADDY!