And of course, the first class was Herbology with the always boring Professor Longbottom. Seriously, who cares about a plant that has pimples?
People with pimples are bad enough.
There was only one upside - we shared the class with Gryffindor, which meant I could gossip with Fred and Roxanne Weasley.
I'd met the fire-headed twins on the train in first-year. Fred was a complete moron who couldn't tell the Three Broomsticks from the Shrieking Shack, as shown by accidently taking me there to try and find Scorpius. Roxanne, on the other hand, was insanely intelligent but naive when it came to boys. Not that I've had much experience there, but seriously, Roxanne has never kissed a guy apart from her many relatives.
So, while good ol' Professor Longbottom jabbered on about some moon plant, we were making plans for the Hogsmeade weekend in a few days time. Everything happened within the first few weeks of school, but this Hogsmeade weekend was exclusive to fifth-, sixth- and seventh-years. Our plans went a little like this:
1. Get as much booze as we can from the house-elfs.
2. Make the abandoned warehouse into a room fit for a mega-party.
3. Set up tables, chairs and a bar.
4. Set up music.
5. Have said party and get so smashed we can't make our way home without a scout group guiding us.
Don't like it? Here's my number: 1800 BFM BITCH
For those of you who don't listen to Tism, BFM means big fucking whoop.
Yeah, I listen to Tism. It was only once.
Shut up. I like their music.
Fred was drawing a design of the room. It looked like a box with squiggles, so Roxanne had drawn her own version, which actually looked good.
"Okay, so here's the bar, and here's the dance-floor. Tables will be here, here and here." Roxanne sketched on furniture and labelled areas. I glanced at it.
"Don't forget the pool table. There has to be a pool table. And a table for poker."
Roxanna shrugged and sketched on the tables. Fred looked at the picture and frowned like a little kid who had missed out on an ice-cream. "Roxy, it's very good, but there's something missing..."
Roxanne frowned as well, which was more like someone trying to solve a complicated word problem. "What is it? Have I forgotten the jacuzzi? Merlin, why do I always forget the most important..."
Fred chose that moment to interrupt what was soon to become a Roxanne worry party. "No, it's not that. But...you said we could have a bucking Buckbeak this year!"
Roxanne stopped dead. Like, literally, froze in place and stared at her twin. "You made me fret over a stupid bucking Buckbeak?! You little pig!" I burst into laughter. Roxanne glared at me, and Fred was still frozen in place with eyes the size of saucers and his mouth wider than...well, extremely wide.
I'm not good with comparisons, alright?
"Why are you laughing? It's not funny at all!"
That just made me laugh harder.
"Ms Zabini, care to explain what exactly is so funny about Moonseed?"
I looked up. Professor Longbottom was staring at me with raised brows. "Um...ah...it's in laugh-inducing potions, sir?"
There was a serious of muffled giggles. Professor Longbottom tittered at me - literally tittered. "You weren't listening at all, were you, Ms Zabini. Had you have been, you would have known that Moonseed is poisonous, and used in Moonseed poison. As a punishment for not paying attention, you will have detention tomorrow with me in my office. I sincerely hope you never use Moonseed in a laugh-inducing potion."
There were a few laughs, and Professor Longbottom turned back to the blackboard to continue his lecture. I glared at Fred and Roxanne, who were trying to muffle their laughter, and slammed open my textbook with more ferociousness that I should have.
What can I say, I hate detentions more than boiled cabbage flavoured Bertie Bott's All Flavorued Beans.
Which is really saying something, because they are revolting.
Seriously, you pick it out and you're all like, ooh yum, a green apple one and then it's boiled cabbage.
Am I the only person who's ever done that? Okay, never mind.
Fred elbowed me in the ribs. "Psst. Taylor. Party will be on Saturday night. Meet us at the place in the morning at around ten. Bring the crew." I nodded slightly, and he winked at me.
What the fuck. I guess that's just part of being as much of an idiot as Fred is.
The bell screamed shrilly and everyone practically themselves out of their desks in the general direction of the door.
When the last class of the day finally ended, I was the first one to get out the door. I practically ran to the common room and shoved all my stuff into my dorm room. The note from X weighed heavily on my mind, like a...heavy thing.
I need to repeat this - I'm not good with comparisons.
I looked over it again, looking for clues in the writing. I didn't recognize the handwriting, which narrowed it down to...the majority of the school. X used fairly fancy language, which could mean a Ravenclaw, but then again, he/she was threatening me, so could be a Slytherin. Definitely not a Hufflepuff, they'd just buy you an ice-cream and tell you that the stereotypes are wrong and that not all Parselmouths are bad people. Not Gryffindor, they'd just confront you in a corridor, drag you into a classroom and demand to know what the hell was going on.
So X was either Slytherin or Ravenclaw. That narrowed it down to about half the school. I groaned and curled up on my bed. Why was it always me?
Then it occurred to me that it was half past four and it took me fifteen minutes to get to the kitchens from here. I ripped off my robes, pulled on a pair of jeans and a purple tank top and rushed out of the common room, ignoring the stares I was getting from everyone.
When I finally arrived in the kitchens, it was two minutes to five. I plonked my arse down in a chair and grabbed a bottle of Butterbeer from a house-elf who knew me all too well. What was her name...Blinky? No, that's not it. Oh, right, Winky!
While I distracted myself with thoughts of Winky in her cute little pillowcase with the pink ribbon and bow, someone coughed behind me. I turned and saw someone sitting beside me. I say someone because I don't know who it was. He/she was wearing a silver mask decorated with swirling patterns.
"Hello, Taylor," said the masked man - yes, man. His voice was unmistakably male.
"Hello, Mr. Mask, or X, or whatever you want me to call you." My voice was flat. Somehow, it made him chuckle.
"You can call me X, my dear. Now, let's get down to business, shall we?" I noticed he had a very posh British accent and spoke like a politician.
"Okay, so what exactly do I have to do to make you not tell anyone?" Nice, Taylor. Very subtle.
He laughed again. "Well, there is one thing I can request."
I raised a brow. " If it's money you want, I can get that. My father plays for the Falmouth Falcons so we're pretty loaded. How much do you want?"
X shook his head. "No, no, that's not what I want. There's only one thing I want.
"A kiss would be enough to convince me not to tell anyone."
It's X! So, who do you think it is? Will Taylor accept? Sorry for the cliffhanger. I like them a little more than is healthy. Tell me what you loved, hated, adored, loathed, praised, was disgusted by, etc. in the review box, which sadly has not been used yet! :(
Cheers, Phoenix Quill :D
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