Chapter 8 : Of Winning and Drinking.
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I felt tears well up in my own eyes, the thought of my best friend unconscious almost unbearable.
I felt someone shake my arm and I flicked my eyes over, shaking off the feeling of crying.
“Claire, dear! We’re going to storm the pitch when they land, you should run up to Rosier and plant one on him!” Alex quipped looking at the field for Goyle flying about.
The Slytherin team made their circle and glided easily down to the grass, the Hufflepuff team had rushed off to Anabelle. I felt the crowd surge forward and I followed with, ambling my way carefully to the pitch and attempting to not get trampled. Once I reached the grass it was easier to push through the crowd most people got out of my way simply because they knew I was Evan’s girl. I could see his windswept hair up ahead and I kept pushing.
I felt an elbow dig into my rib cage and I hissed and got shoved to the side off of my path only to collide with some guy’s chest. I huffed and looked up, drawing back to apologize for being shoved into him only to meet the cold gray eyes of Regulus.
“Sorry,” I managed, nodding curtly at him.
“Not your fault, Nott,” he commented softly.
We both were in a way rooted to our spots despite the jostling crowd and for some reason I wanted to just look at Regulus again and admit that it was entirely my fault. I was the reason they won; I was the reason that Anabelle O’Malley was knocked unconscious. I was disloyal and that gutted me. For some reason what flew out of my mouth wasn’t that at all.
“You played a good game,” I said quirking a small smile up at him.
“We won unfairly, Nott. Evan and his lot can pretend we are the great victors but we all know if O’Malley hadn’t been knocked out that Hufflepuff would have taken us,” He sighed, pulling his fingers through his disheveled black locks.
He looked at me then, the look in his eyes far too tired and old to be on the face of a seventeen year old, but I knew it had more to do with who he was outside of Hogwarts.
“You still played brilliantly, Black,” I commented dropping his gaze and moving around him to find Evan.
I could feel Regulus watching me as I weaved my way to Evan. I could feel his eyes on me as I reached him and Rosier swept me up and drew me in for a sloppy and happy kiss. And for some reason, I wanted him to watch me. Not out of spite, but some thing in me stirred at having the attention of Regulus Arcturus Black.
The Slytherin common room was buzzing tonight as people raised countless glasses to toast the victory. Unlike the usual decorum of the welcome back to school party, Qudditch victory parties were particularly trashy. Girls skirts cut short, so short that I’m sure their mothers would faint, and they pressed themselves unashamedly against boys who were too smashed to probably even remember their names.
I tugged apprehensively at the skirt that Alex had thrown at me when I had ducked into her dormitory to change for the party. She had thrown this tight leather skirt at me along with a dark green off the shoulder shirt. Apparently they had been all the rage when she had visited her family in France over the summer. I let my long golden locks tumble from the high bun I had put them in for the game and smeared some pink lip gloss on my lips.
When we came back to the common room the party was in full swing, and I moved to go find a drink.
I heard someone wolf-whistle as I moved through the crowd to find Evan with a goblet in hand and instinctively I smirked, pleased with the attention. I finally tracked down Evan as some rather bimbo-ish girl was swatting at him playfully. I glared, shoving my way up to him and immediately pulling his face to mine to kiss him. I pulled back for a moment to look over at the girl, eyebrow cocked.
“I’m sorry, you are?” I said as sickly sweet as I could muster, hanging onto Evan by his tie.
She huffed and stomped off and I smirked turning back to Evan, his experession smug.
“Darling, you’re supposed to tell bimbo’s like that to sod off,” I said pouting a bit, and leaning into him.
“I was just about to before you showed up,” He said softly leaning in to peck my cheek and then along my jaw.
I giggled a bit trying to let the uneasiness in my stomach dissipate.
“Oh, Evan. I’m not nearly drunk enough for this yet,” I commented, tipping the goblet back on my lips and letting the searing liquid trickle down my throat.
He pulled back smirking, “Later, my pet. “
For the rest of the evening Evan kept me always with a drink in hand as he made his rounds in the room to get nearly everyone’s congratulations and I was getting particularly smashed and giggly. I had never been drunk before, I mostly avoided alcohol because it never seemed delightful to be out of control of oneself, but I knew I would need to if I were to stop resisting Evan’s advances.
The party started to wind down some time around midnight as people trickled off to bed either with a partner in hand or clumsily made their way up the stairs to lie down by themselves. Evan and I were seated in a plush armchair tucked away in a corner of the room, and I was draped across his lap. I had lost my shoes at some point earlier but honestly I couldn’t recollect.
I was tracing small figure eights on Evan’s shirt with my finger and my head was nestled in his shoulder as he hummed some waltz song softly with his eyes closed. He looked particularly exhausted and yet amused. I leaned up kissed his jaw, letting my lips linger a bit and breathing in his warmth.
I felt Evan shift and his lips came crashing in on mine hard and eager and I leaned up returning just as eagerly. There were no warning bells in my head this time, no uneasiness in my stomach; I just felt nothing really. I could feel Evan’s fingers tugging on my shirt but besides the physical contact I couldn’t really feel any emotion.
“Love,” I said between our kisses, “we should go to your room.”
Evan rose from the armchair as I stumbled up. I grabbed the goblet from the table close by and threw back the liquid, taking in the bitter taste of alcohol. Evan grinned at me and tossed me over his shoulder and I squealed, giggling.
He carried me down the staircase that led to the boy’s dormitory, their rooms were below the dungeons and I felt the chill of this creep on my skin.
“Rosie! It’s cold,” I whined wiggling at his grasp.
“No worries, babe. I’ll have you all warm soon,” He purred as he opened the door into the seventh year dormitory, and promptly chucked me onto his bed.
I let out a breath at the movement, giggling and shifting in his sheets.
“Roooosie, do you think Anabelle is okay?” I asked as I watched him unbutton his shirt and throw it to the side before joining me in the bed.
“I bloody hope not. Why does it matter, darling?” He asked pulling my close and kissing along my collarbone.
I giggled squirming a bit, a blush creeping up my chest. But suddenly I felt my mood shift at the idea of Anabelle not being okay, and I felt myself grow still. Tears pricked at my eyes and I couldn’t make them go away and I started to cry. Merlin, alcohol made me too emotional. I couldn’t stop myself.
Evan noted that I had stopped moving and responding to his kisses, and he lifted up huffily.
“What’s wrong?” His fingers pushing hair back from his face, his mouth set in a grimace.
“It’s all my fault, Evan,” I said softly, unable to stop myself, apparently alcohol gave me no filter too, “I betrayed my best friend.”
Evan rolled his eyes at my outburst, “Darling, you helped your true friends win today. You helped us assert our dominance over those muggleborns and blood traitors.”
I felt a hysteria rising in my throat but I swallowed it back, and nodded.
Evan took this as his sign that all was well and started kissing and pulling at my clothes again. I was starting to loose my motor skills, my hands fumbling on his back and skin. I felt him find the zipper to my skirt and pull it down and suddenly my mind was quite sober.
“Evan, I… I can’t do this,” I said softly, quivering slightly and pushing at his chest.
“Babe,” He complained against my lips now, “come on. I love you. You can’t keep making me wait.”
I huffed, “I just, I dunno. I can’t…”
It was hard to put together a thought coherently. I was losing my edge.
“Claire, if you want me to stick around I need a reason to. I could go chat up that girl from earlier if you won’t give me a reason to stay with you,” He growled, pinning me with a hand to my ribs to the bed.
I shrunk back, unused to the edge in his voice being directed at me. His stare was harsh now and his muscles were tense, I nodded and closed my eyes. Evan leaned over my frame and started kissing my neck.
I expected my first time to be magical and passionate and beautiful. But all it was lots of heavy breathing, removing of clothes, and some pain. I had heard it would hurt, Alex had told me briefly when she and Chance had sex for the first time. She also said it was magical, that he was so kind to her. Evan wasn’t harsh but he was unnecessarily rough and I could tell I might have a bruise or two in the morning.
When it was over Evan pulled my close and draped an arm around my middle, pulling a thin sheet and then his duvet over our forms. I willed myself to not think about what I had just let happen because all that mattered was that I had secured Evan. My mother would be happy. And I wouldn’t cry while I was still in his bed.
I stirred to someone’s breath on my neck, the feeling of it all too soothing. And then like a mighty wave all of the previous night’s action crashing in on my mind. I felt shame and dread pool in my stomach and my throat dry up. I shifted slightly to see Evan’s form.
His caramel hair was messy and disheveled, his lips slightly parted as he breathed evenly. His toned chest moved with life and in all sense he was a beautiful man. I was lucky to be in his bed, and yet I was repulsed all the same. I didn’t love Evan. I didn’t think I ever would and I knew as soon as I married him that every morning would feel like this.
I could feel the penetrating headache begin to burst at my temples and winced; I had heard hangovers were harsh but I wasn’t prepared for this. I groaned, nimbly moving off the bed and pulling the sheet up and around my form. The other beds in their rooms all had their curtains drawn and I could here soft snoring from each. The lantern light was soft in the dungeon recesses and I assumed that meant it was early in the morning.
I started to rummage around the floor for my clothes, digging at the piles of clothes. Silently I prayed to Merlin that Evan was not this messy for fear of living with a slob someday. I shifted a pile of clothing only to have a horrible stench reach my nose and my stomach churned.
I could feel my stomach flip and my hand flew to my mouth; I dashed off to the lavatory as quickly as I could hold a sheet to my chest and over piles of various items. I rushed into a stall and kneeled over a porcelain bowl and proceeded to puke my guts out. It was like everything within me came out all in a matter of minutes. It was vile but I couldn’t stop it.
I heard the door to the lavatory creak open and remember that I hadn’t shut the door behind me when I charged into the stall. I looked up to meet eyes with a bleary eyed Regulus Black. He had obviously just woken up and was just as startled to see me.
“Nott…?” He questioned, squinting at my form just before him.
I couldn’t tell what I was embarrassed of more in this moment. Here I was clad in nothing but a sheet in the boys lavatory or that I could feel my heart stutter just a bit at seeing Black half naked. Or the fact that I didn’t get a chance to respond as I promptly went into another session of puking.
A/N: Please enjoy this and review! I love to hear what y'all think!
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