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Waking Up In Vegas by Sweet Decadence
Chapter 3 : Chapter 3
 
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"This is absolute SHIT!"  I shouted as I paced back and forth in my room.

 

"Oh hush up," Scorpius glared as he tilted back in the chair, "You're giving me a headache."

 

"Oh, I'm giving you a headache?!" I seethed as I stomped over to him.

 

"Yeah. You are," he sneered.

 

"Fuck your headache," I snapped as I shoved his chair and he toppled backwards.

"CRAZY BINT, OW."

 

"Shut up."

 

"Bitch."

 

"Arse. James, where the sodding hell is your brother?"

 

"Iunno," he shrugged nonchalantly, "Somewhere. Bein' Albus. Hitting on some American bloke, probably."

 

"UGH," I grumbled as I sat down hard on the end of the bed, "This is the largest disaster of ever."

 

"Yeah, this is so much worse than Voldemort," Scorpius said as he moved the chair to the other side of the room against the wall, I'm assuming so I couldn't knock him over again.

 

"Damn straight it is," I huffed.

 

"Wait until my dad finds out," He chuckled sarcasticly.

 

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR CRAZY FATHER OH MY GOD I HATE YOU."

 

And then came the knock on the door.

 

"I am literally going to kill all three of you."

 

"You'll never believe it, Al," James chuckled as he walked over and opened the door to an extremely annoyed looking Albus Potter, "These two idiots got married last night but I don't remember a damn thing at all and there's no hope for them apparently and why do you look so pissed off?"

 

"I dunno, maybe because I was just having coffee by this very striking and intelligent young man named Jonathan DeMeir, but was yoinked away from his oh-so intriguing tale of his studies in microbiology by the 50 some-odd texts from you lot. Or maybe it's because my phone battery is literally now dead because a certain redheaded pain in my arse blew up my phone with her voicemails. Or maybe... no. Nope. It's those reasons."

 

"We have more important things to deal with besides your..."

 

"Oh, I know. You two are married. I got that from the FIRST THIRTY TEXTS YOU SENT," He snapped as he viciously threw his coat on the armchair, "And honestly, I don't ruddy well care. This is your punishment for constantly dragging me into cleaning up your fuck-ups. I am not the one who got black-out drunk and married my cousin's best mate. I am not the one who decided it was a splendid idea to 'sling the d', as it were, at my best mate's cousin. Nor am I the one who got robbed by a stripper," He seethed as he helped himself to the whiskey at the minibar, "And I think it's entirely safe to say I hate all three of you in this moment."

 

"Wait..." Scorpius' head snapped up, "Who the hell got robbed by a stripper?"

 

Al just tipped the glass toward his brother.

 

"I did? Huh," James mused with one of the most puzzled looks I've ever seen on a human's face, "Anywhozer, Al, to fill you in..."

 

"I got the texts, James," Al groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "I know what the fuck is going on. You don't need to elaborate."

 

"Yeah but..."

 

"Don't. Need. To bloody. Elaborate. So help me god, if I have to repeat myself one more time," he angrily drank what was left in his glass and poured another, then turned to Scorpius, "What's the last thing you remember?"

 

"The Cannons kicking American ass," He simply grinned like a small child on Christmas.

 

"Oh my god, I'm surrounded by bloody idiots. Rose, please tell me you have more to go on."

 

"What about me?" James grimaced.

 

"James, you were robbed by a stripper and don't even remember. Believe me when I say your input is 100% unnecessary."

 

"LIKE IT WOULD NEVER HAPPEN TO YOU IN SOME GAY STRIP JOINT."

 

As if my marriage issue wasn't enough, James was now mildly offended by his own stupidity.

 

"No, it wouldn't. Because I'm not irresponsible and lecherous."

 

"Yes you are. We're brothers. We're like, the same people."

 

"James, you and Al are complete opposites. Now shut up and can we please fix my life so I don't continue to think of reasons to jump out the window? Thanks. And Al, to answer your question, the last thing I remember was drinking shots with some American blokes. I pretty much don't remember anything past five shots, but I remember being at the casino around the block," I mused.

 

"Which one?" Scorpious snorted.

 

"Shut up, shit-for-brains," I snapped, "The Tiger-y one."

 

"I'm assuming you mean The Tiger, maybe?" Al sighed exasperatedly.

 

"Shut. Up."

 

"Well, we know the first stop on the road to hell," Al finished yet another glass of whiskey, "Let's go."

 



A/N: I know it's been a very, very long time since I posted anything for this, but hopefully, I'll be able to finish it. Sorry for the long wait to those of you who had favorited it, and thank you for reading to the newcomers.

-Ande


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