Chapter 1 : Parties & Bad Decisions
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Parties were the bane of my existence.
Who invented them, anyway? All they did was remind people they were getting older, slowly but surely. And parties like these, full of drunken idiots grinding on the dance floor, well, they were less than appealing.
Scratch that: Drunken students were the bane of my existence.
I actually didn’t mind parties all too much. I just preferred nice, quiet ones, preferably with adults present, where I wasn’t forced to bear witness to two of my best friends sticking their tongues as far down each other’s throats as they could.
I wrinkled my nose as I turned to Grace, slowly sipping my drink through a straw. It slowed the effects of alcohol, apparently. “Sometimes I’m not so sure you and your sister came from the same womb.”
Beside me at the small, circular table sat a girl of seventeen. Her eyes, a bright shade of cobalt blue, highlighted the natural honey tones to her hair. Despite its dark, coppery colour, streaks of this lightness made the brown appear soft, and it fell in short waves to the top of her chest – her usual style. Much like me, Grace did not particularly enjoy parties – especially ones thrown by Slytherins – but nevertheless, the two of us had come out on this rare occasion to support the rest of our gang, two of which were paying us absolutely no attention.
Shaking her head, Grace’s expression morphed into one of disgust as she spoke. “I wouldn’t either if it wasn’t for the fact my Gran made me watch the homemade video of our birth.” If at all possible, her expression became one of increased repulsion. “Honestly, it’s only Will! She sees enough of him as it is.”
I nodded my head in agreement. Across the way Grace’s twin sister, Isabelle, was gyrating to the pulsating beat, lips glued against those of Will Carstairs’s. Both of their messy, sweaty, blonde heads seemed to morph into one as Izzy strained to keep their lips in contact, the height difference extraordinarily high despite her killer heels.
“They look a mess,” I laughed as Will pushed her off, only to swig back another portion of beer before reeling her back in. “Who brought this Muggle stuff anyway?” I questioned, eyeing up Will’s can. “Nobody’s realised how strong it is.”
“I’m not sure,” Grace replied. The two of us actually had Muggle drinks of our own, but after carefully observing the units per bottle and alcohol percentage, we had decided these WKD things were safe enough. “But it’s so nice,” then, after a moment’s thought, “probably Albus Potter.”
I shrugged. It was his party, so it was highly likely. “I suppose. I doubt it was Scorpius Malfoy at any rate.”
“True,” said Grace and as we entered a lull in conversation, it became clear she had little interest in the matter of who bought what. Come to think of it: neither did I. But because Grace was such a sweet natured girl, she switched topics and we began to chat once more, slowly sipping on our drinks as we observed our partying schoolmates from a safe distance.
“So, where’s Avery right now?”
Avery – my elder sister – was a curse breaker, yet she was also a traveller. Her work took her across the globe and although she had been presented with the opportunity to settle in a singular country, she never took it. Avery was a thrill seeker: always awaiting the next great adventure.
“Australia,” I answered. “I got a postcard from her yesterday. She says it’s unbelievably warm, which is a real pity since we’re stuck here in freezing cold Scotland.”
Before my sister’s departure all those years ago I had made her promise that wherever she went, she must send me a postcard. And she did. Underneath my bed, closed up in a little wooden trunk, were almost a hundred different postcards from a variety of cities, countries, towns and continents. Melbourne was just another to add to the ever-growing list.
“I know that Isabelle and I don’t always see eye to eye,” at this point Grace cast a glance at her still otherwise-engaged sister, “but I can’t imagine hardly ever getting to see her.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m used to it now. She moved out years ago.” And before I could say any more on the matter, a great big boulder came hurtling towards us.
“Girls!” He yelled as he lifted me from my seat and swung me round, planting a soppy wet kiss on my cheek. “You’ll never believe what just happened!”
“Felix! FELIX!” As he set me back down next to Grace I giggled like a little school girl, wiping furiously at my soggy cheek. Huh, maybe the alcohol was getting to me. “Okay, care to explain what’s happened?” I asked, and then, “Ahh, calmly, if you don’t mind!”
“Right, okay,” and for the first time I noticed how flushed Felix’s cheeks were as he swung a chair round from behind him, straddling it backwards. His grin split open his face as he begun to speak. “Well I was just over by the drinks table and you’ll never guess who started talking to me!”
Grace rolled her eyes. “Felix, you’re seventeen, right?” Without a pause to let him answer, the brunette continued. “Your cheeks are rouged, indicating you did a little more than talking with this mysterious guy. As an of-age seventh year with morals, your guy friend must either be in our year or the one below. No way would you snog anyone younger.” A grin formed on my own lips as I began to work it out. We Ravenclaws weren’t just always book smart, you know. Our deduction skills could rival those of Sherlock Holmes. Grace spoke again, “Your excitement, however, suggests sixth year because you’ve likely spoken to everyone in ours. The fact you know of the sixteen year old though means that he’s in our house. He’s a Ravenclaw. And that narrows it down to –”
“Lysander Scamander,” I broke in, hardly able to hold in the girlish shriek on the tip of my tongue. “The only mildly attractive – and interesting – guy in the whole of the sixth year dorm.”
Beside me, Grace nodded with intent. We high fived under the table: Watson and Holmes on the case. Across from us, Felix sat there, flabbergasted.
He breathed out deeply, pushing all the air from his lungs, “You guys have got to stop doing that.”
Grace shrugged innocently though her eyes twinkled mischievously. “What can I say, we’re not Eagles for nothing.”
“I’m a Ravenclaw too yet I don’t have your mad skills,” he switched his face to one of fake sadness: bottom lip out, puppy dog eyes activated.
I tutted as I wagged a finger wildly. “It takes practice and patience, Fabulous Felix.” Oh god, this alcohol was really flooding my system. Fabulous Felix? “Anyway, what happened with you and Lysander?”
Now we had switched back to his star subject, Felix’s eyes lit up with delight. “Oh it was wonderful,” he gushed, holding a hand to his heart. “I’d just picked up another drink because it’s so goddamn hot in here, but when I turned back around he just sort of – er, came out of nowhere - and I ended up sloshing the drink all over his shirt. Not that I minded of course, it was a white shirt if you know what I mean,” he said with a suggestive wink. “I apologised and apologised and I don’t know, he’s so hot I just didn’t know what to say. Well, eventually he just shut me up with his lips and we spent a good ten minutes snogging in front of the drinks table.”
With a final sigh, Felix finished his tale, laying a weary, well snogged, head down on the edge of the table, a smile still adorned on his lips.
Isabelle and Will broke in then, summoning chairs over as they fell about giggling and guffawing. Felix raised his head as we all (me, Grace and Felix, that is) turned to face the newcomers.
“Having fun out there, were we?” I smirked, raising an eyebrow.
At least Will had the decency to blush. Isabelle smirked right back, sliding her hand onto Will’s upper thigh as he snaked his around her waist. “Definitely,” Isabelle grinned with an air of suggestiveness. “Now go and get me another drunk Goldstein, I’ve barely seen you on your feet all night even after I let you borrow my new dress!”
I frowned at her pout. “I didn’t ask to wear this,” I said, tugging on the shiny black fabric of the borrowed dress. “You basically forced it over my head. I don’t think that constitutes as the same thing.”
With a wave of her hand, Izzy shrugged me off. “Whatever, please just get me another – my feet are killing me.”
I rolled my eyes but stood up nonetheless, yanking the skirt down as far as possible to ensure my modesty was protected. Truth be told, the shortness of the ensemble made me very uncomfortable. I felt like I was about to flash my knickers at any second, despite the fact other girls were wearing far shorter garments and succeeding in this charade.
I snatched up a random cup as I approached at the drinks table, downing it in one. Spluttering, I tried to wipe the disgustingly strong taste from my tongue but it was to no avail. Ugh, there wasn’t even any water to wash away the bitter taste. Just alcohol and, oh yes!, more alcohol.
“So, I saw you and Holbrook share a kiss back there,” the sound of the voice made me jump as I swung around, clutching my heart. I was greeted with a disarray of black hair, emerald green eyes that sparkled in the dim light and a very luminous birthday badge, pinned to the front of his shirt. There was no mistaking it, it was the man of the hour: birthday boy Albus Potter.
“Felix?” I spluttered, wondering why on earth Albus was talking to me of all people, especially about such topics. “He’s gay!”
There was no mistaking the look of shock that flashed across his face before it returned to its casual default. “He is?”
“Yes,” I stressed, finally bringing my hand away from my chest. It hung limply by my side as I suddenly became aware of the fact I had arms. What did I usually do with them? They just felt so awkward all of a sudden; hanging there like deadweights. I picked up a cup, just for something to do. “I thought everyone knew he was gay. He doesn’t exactly hide it.”
“No, I just –” He shook his head, strands of his messy fringe falling into his eyes. “Never mind.”
Albus Potter wasn’t that much taller than me, I noticed. Perhaps four inches or so higher than my five foot seven self. I’d never seen him so close before, and as my eyes roved his face I noticed many things I hadn’t before. His cheeks were podgy, for one, full and a little baby faced. Not in a fat way, but in a cute kind of way. They made him look innocent and only served to heighten his good looks. On his forehead, a small dint was inlaid from Merlin knows what, a jagged little scar above his left eye. I couldn’t help but smirk a little at the irony. “Happy birthday,” I said into the silence that had descended as we stared at each other. Hid bage continued to flash obscenely between us.
“Thanks,” he replied and then it returned.
I had no idea why I was still lingering. This meeting was awkward to say the least, and Isabelle would wonder where her drink was if I didn’t get back soon.
“You look nice,” he coughed, reaching a hand to the back of his neck. No doubt about it, he had been drinking. The scent of whiskey clung to his breath as it washed over me, a strangely calming effect. “Want to dance?” he asked.
And for some insane reason I couldn’t even begin to fathom, I nodded. I said yes, put the cup I’d been clinging to down and grabbed his slightly sweaty hand as he led me into the throng of people.
There we swayed; my arms around his neck, his around my waist. Our style of dancing unrelated to the pulsation of the techno beat, but perfect all the same. I laid a head on his shoulder, the feel of his heart beating against my temple. He tilted my chin up, looking at me with a mix of emotions I could barely detect in his eyes. Lust, passion, want.
October 18th would be a date to remember.
A/N: Woo, my first story is up! I’d just like to say that although yes, this is going to be your typical pregnancy fic, I’m going to try make it as original and realistic as possible. I’ve done a lot of research for this! I’d love it if you could review and let me know what you think, but just a read by its self is more than enough. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle gets credit for the wonderfully intelligent creation of Mr Sherlock Holmes and John Watson whilst Jo Rowling (obviously) gets the credit for creating such a fabulous world to set a fic in. I’m thinking next chapter on Sunday!