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Adamantine by the_brunetteWeasley2206
Chapter 6 : Chapter VI: Hangovers and Love Letters
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 1


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My eyes were imprinted with the dull, vision blurring, ache. Something as simple as a blink threatened to tear the skin right open; allowing the blood to steadily splutter down the side of my face, the nonexistent liquid allowing comfort to my irritated skin. Nothing made sense, and nothing wanted to make sense. Ripples of pain pulsed through my head as I slowly lifted it a centimeter from the soft, luxurious comfort of my cushion. Swaying figures blurred in front of me, the only thing evident was that I was lying in a bed. Everything felt queasy as if even the curtains of shadows surrounding me were radiating chants of dizziness. I gagged at the stench, my throat felt like sandpaper, scratchy and cut up, as if I had just swallowed a shard of glass. Daylight pierced through the curtains, I squirmed uncomfortably, seeking refuge by smothering myself in the blanket. Hoping that I would never have to leave the warmth and amenity it brought me. Bile quickly slipped its way up my throat, too fast for me to react, and with one violent contraction the viscous contents of last night's drinks ripped from out of my gut, propelled into the air before I even had time to stumble my way to the toilet,  I heaved, my now empty insides feeling hollow with pain, the last of it trickled down my lips and I resisted the urge to cry, my stomach turned over once more. 



 

 

 

There was nothing glamorous about the position I was in, although I would have liked to imagine so. Sick stuck my hair to my pillow in nasty clumps, my body too exhausted to move or even attempt to clear any of it up. My limbs felt floppy and numb, all of the pain seemed to be preoccupied assaulting my, already, throbbing head. My eyes slipped shut feeling at peace once again for a mere moment, relishing in the stony silence. I was soon ripped from the figment of my imagination that had convinced me I was not currently lying in my own vomit; by a shrilling cry. "POPPY!?"



  

What occurred next was a blurred sequence of a lot of shouting, some water being shoved down my throat, more shouting, and finally ending with me being lifted from my situation and being laid down on a less sticky, yet ever so comfortable spot.



  

I couldn't will myself to open my eyes, out of fear of what I would be faced with, instead I contently curled myself to fit the shape of the bed, admiring the pleasure a warm bed could give you.


 

"Poppy?" I moaned in response. "Poppy, are you listening to me?" I used all the strength in my body to lift my head up and then down again, sighing in relief when the exercise was over. "Godric, her breath smells bad." I heard a distant voice cry, I frowned even in my delirious state.



 

"We should probably leave her to rest. Poppy we're just going to go now, but there's a bowl here if you feel sick again and we should be back by the time you wake up." A voice like velvet said in my ears, I giggled as a strand of hair tickled at my cheek. Footsteps padded away from me, followed by a soft bang of the door and I knew the voices were gone. My feet curled underneath my body and I let out a humongous sigh of defeat, letting the sleep lull me over and grasp me back in its clutches. 



 

 



 

*******



 

"Morning Sunshine!"



  

I glared at Dominique as she peeked through the curtains drawn over the bed I was in, "Well Morning wouldn't be fitting- since its actually 3 o'clock." She giggled perching on the end of the bed, keeping her distance probably out fear that I would A) tackle her or B) throw up on her. 



 

I grumbled slamming my body back down onto the bed, "How long did I sleep for?" I asked rubbing my aching head, "Oh you slept the most part of today and all of yesterday." She smiled softly tucking a loose curl behind her ear.


 

I moaned in a complaint, "You should have tried to wake me up sooner!" 



 

Dominique let out a delightful chuckle, "Believe me we tried, but you pretty much fought us off in your sleep, so we gave up."  My lips twitched upwards.



  

We stayed that way, in a lulling and peaceful bubble of silence, and before long Dominique had shuffled further up the bed and was filling me in on the gossip of yesterday, not taking notice of the fact I didn't know half of the names that she was telling me. 


 

"Dominique," I whispered stopping her mid-speech. She turned to meet my eye smiling in encouragement as to go on. "What happened at the party?”


 

The corners of her mouth turned down in pity, It wasn't the type of pity that was suffocating or unwelcoming, it made me feel safe. "You really don't remember anything do you?" She asked leaning on her elbows and smiling, a smile conflicted between feeling sorry for me or laughing about this whole mess.



 

"Zero, nada, naught" I murmured pressing my hands to my eyes as if I could push the memories of Friday Night back into my brain, "Where to start?" She sighed shuffling around me so that she was leaning on the headboard- her body radiating warmth next to me.



  

"Well, what's the last thing you remember?" She asked I thought back to the blurry patch in my mind, the smell of oranges overwhelmed my senses, bright lights flashing from every surface. I blinked.



 

 

 

"Drinking this orange juice James had ordered me- then I remember... It was Zinnia actually I remember her coming up to me." A snort came from Dominique's direction and my head whipped around, "What!? What happened?" I cried in impatience.



  

She smiled wistfully, "You slapped her actually,”



  

I felt like I had just been slapped myself at the impact of her words, "I did what?!”



  

Dominique was grinning like a lunatic, "Calm your tits Poppy and let me explain the night, this will require a lot of patience, so keep that big gob of yours shut ok?" She smirked, I was too eager to hear the story that I didn't even come up with a snarky retort. Instead, shuffling closer towards her.



 

 

 

"Right, so Zinnia had spent the majority of the time you spent with James trying to prize over the attention of a Hufflepuff she likes, when he completely ignored her and snogged some other girl she went searching for one of us and unluckily found James who pointed her in your direction, and there you were drunk off your arse and trying, unsuccessfully, to burp your ABC's, which you tried to do throughout the whole night by the way." She giggled, I frowned in bafflement, "I'd have you know that I am the reigning champion of burping my ABC's thank you very much." She rolled her eyes giggling.



  

"Anyway, she began to tell you the uneventful story of her and Vince Michael’s epic, and one-sided, romance. Of course, you being you, barely got through 60 seconds before you full on slapped her. So I found you- perhaps 20 minutes after the slapping- both of you balling your eyes and admitting your deepest darkest fears, I've got to say Poppy I never realized someone could be so afraid of Pigeons-"



 

I whacked her arm in protest, "Excuse me, but I would like to let you know that pigeons are disgusting filthy rats with wings and when they take over the world I will be there to say I told you so." I argued getting a painful rush in my head from using too much energy. 



 

Dominique gave me an unimpressed smirk before continuing with the events of Friday night, "So to lift your spirits we started dancing, and pretty soon you were break dancing- which was probably number one on my most ridiculous sights I have ever seen list, after that I lost you again- but yesterday numerous people from our year filled me in and Poppy I dare say, I doubt anyone will ever be able to forget that party. According to Yvonne Fletcher, you actually transfigured a mouthy 5th year into a pigeon and then ran away screaming, oh! And you had a dance-off with Peeves." 



 

By the end of this rant, she was practically peeing herself in laughter.



  

I neglected to ask what on earth a Peeves was and instead fixed Dominique with a hard and serious look, "None of this explains what I was doing drunk in the first place Dominique- I didn't drink one drop of alcohol that night and yet somehow I can't remember any of that. It doesn't make sense…” I whispered, shivering slightly and pulling the duvet further up my shoulders.



 

She sighed nodding in defeat, "That's the thing I have no clue-" we both exchanged eye contact knowing full well what really went on at the party.


 

We stayed in a prolonged pause of silence, neither of us wanting to be the first to say it.



 

"So what we really should be asking is who spiked my drink."  I murmured feeling sick to the stomach, I could never have imagined that someone would dislike me so much that they would do something as awful as this.



 

"There are a numerous amount of people that it could have been..." She trailed off at the sight of my unimpressed gaze. "It can't have been him Poppy- trust me on this one." She said the conviction in her tone almost enough to convince me myself. But not enough.



 

"No one else got close enough to be able to slip something in my drink Dominique, it would have had to be him." I sighed averting my eyes to my hands, they were a light shade of olive not dark enough to be considered brown but not light enough to be pale.



 

 

 

"I just know James is one of the least likely people to do something like this- trust me on this one," Dominique spoke softly rubbing my shoulder in assurance.



 

“Listen, you should have a shower- you can think this all over, clear your head bit… Plus I don't think I can stand that stench much longer." She mumbled, attempting a half-hearted smile and then getting up, swinging her long legs over the bed and drawing the curtains. I nodded still deep in thought.


 

Sluggishly I lifted my legs down onto the floor, my toes flinching as they touched the chilled stone wishing to the return to the warm confines of the bed, I swallowed hard getting up and making my way towards the bathroom, my head light and cloudy from the rush.



 

My clothes clung to my body like a second skin, taking all of my withering strength to peel it off. My mind was in shreds; thoughts filtering through my brain at an alarming speed, different theories and faces flashing at the back of my eyes. I turned the dial, old and rusty, waiting in anticipation for it to release thousands of steaming hot drops, darkening my hair and trickling down my back in furrows. My eyes fell closed, allowing the water to sink into my skin cleansing it of its bruises. The water beat down on my head dripping down at my sides and I reached to touch, letting it glide past my hand like silk, images cut through the serenity I had created. 



 

James' devilishly handsome face morphing into a smirk as he tells me to enjoy my drink, the flicker in his eye as he tells me how he longs to be able to see me drunk. I close the water dial catching my breath. His words echoing in my ears, 'Enjoy your orange juice.' I shook my head, grabbing the soap and beginning to scrub at my body, hoping that with the help of the soap I might have some clarity.



 

By the time I closed the dial I was surrounded by coils, thick coils of steam, swirling around me in a similar way to my thoughts. Nothing was clear. Nothing was certain. All I knew was that I couldn't carry on like this- uncertain.



 

 

 

"Hey" Dominique mumbled from behind a book as I came out of the toilet,  the steam gliding past me and reaching into every corner of the dorm in tendrils.



 

I nodded combing a hand through my damp hair which had curled due to the heat.



 

I quickly changed into some pajama shorts and an oversized Quidditch jersey, breathing in the scent of something other than my own vomit.  



 

Dominique looked up as I came back out from the washroom. "So what are you thinking?" She cautiously sat up watching me intently as I sat on the edge of her bed.



 

 

 

"I honestly have no idea. I just know I need to confront him about it." I sighed heavily dreading the prospect, after our talk I had felt the James and I had potential to be friends or acquaintances at the least. Dominique shook her head, "That's a bad idea, James never takes well to being falsely accused.”



 

"But you can't know for sure it wasn't him!" I snapped. She looked me in the eye with that fierce loyalty I had seen the day she had asked me to come to the party, "He's my cousin- He's my best friend. I think I would know!" She quipped.



 

We stared at each other in an untamed silence, She bit down on her lip and are eyes broke contact, mine soon found their way to my bed bare and stripped. I tried desperately to catch a glimpse of something from my memories of that night- anything would have sufficed.


 

Blink.



 

Blur.



 

Bright.



 

I took in an intake of breath.



 

"So tell me this how did I end up back in my bed..." I hissed, Dominique looked up realization dawning on her. 


 

"James... No- I remember when I found you again you were with James, he couldn't stop laughing... and when I asked him how you had got in this state in the first place- he-he just smiled and shrugged. And then he told me he was taking you back to the dorms when you tried to start talking about orange juice. I didn't read into at the time- but it could have easily been him trying to stop you from telling me anything…"


 

We stared at the floor in stunned silence. I could vaguely make out the look on James' face when he left me with that damned orange juice. That smirk.

 

 

 

 

 

"Let's go," Dominique said, her voice biting back fury, she picked up my coat but I was already at the door.



 

"Where is he." I could hear the heat and anger in my voice and I had to take a deep breath, clenching my fists.



 

"Quidditch trial outs." She replied grabbing hold of my fist, I instantly relaxed and she smiled softly, "Just remember I'm right behind you- If James did do this." She still sounded uncertain- I didn't blame her, she was trusting a girl she barely knew than over her best friend- her family.


 

I nodded, feeling overcome with a gratitude I couldn't express. Dominique seemed to understand gesturing to the door with a steady smile.



 

From there to the grounds was a blur of stairs and anger. It was bubbling in my stomach, tamed with the promise of being released. Even the autumns mornings cold breeze, impacting with my bare legs, didn't seem to wither the feeling burning my stomach. I was blind with anticipation and uncertain rage. 



 

Red dots could be seen darting all over the cloudless sky above the Quidditch stands. One person, in particular, seemed to fly higher than the rest. Giving off waves of elegance and composure, the same arrogance in him could be seen in his flying. My legs began to grow stiff, rooted to the ground and my throat felt jarred, Dominique turned to me in question.



 

"It will be okay. Worst case scenario you punch him." She chuckled, fumbling awkwardly when I didn’t return her hilarity. 



 

"That's what I'm worried about- I'm-I'm not good at controlling my anger- or anything for that matter. And I can't predict wherever I'll be able to hold it all in.” I murmured looking down at the ground damp from previous showers of rain, I wish it could swallow me whole now in this instant, protecting me from my cowardice and nerves.


 

"Poppy... I promise if at any moment I notice you're getting too riled up, I will personally carry out a body binding charm before you can even do anything you'll regret. Did I ever mention I'm an O student in Charms?" She grinned, rubbing at my shoulder. 



 

I smiled looking back up at the Quidditch players. I was reminded of why I was here- here in the cold, shivering in my pajamas, opening up to a girl I barely knew, and it could all be because of him.



 

"I'm ready," I replied not waiting for a response as I charged forwards onto the Quidditch pitch.



 

There were a couple of students dotted around in the stands, oblivious to the cold and cheering on the players above. One player, in particular, was victim to the rowdy support of a group of younger girls. I saw red.


 

Whipping out my wand, I leveled it to my throat and cleared it before speaking. "JAMES RATTY POTTER WILL YOU PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY BACK DOWN TO THE PITCH, please.” My voice was steady and cold. Ready for what would next come. The players looked down at me in alarm, sure enough, each one of them slowly leveled down to the grass, James was last.



 

 

 

He stared at me in blatant confusion, making a move to stand closer to me. I stepped forward until I was so close I could see every freckle on his tanned face.



 

"Poppy... What's going on?" His eyebrow twitched upwards, a smirk twitched at his lips, as if he was expecting me to a crack a smile and reveal that this was all a big joke. For reasons unknown to me this made me even angrier, I thought to that same smirk at the party sidetracked from my original purpose of being here.



 

"What's going on? What's going on is that you are an egotistical asshole." I shrieked in humor, perfectly aware that I sounded mad. But I was angry, so very angry.



 

"Excuse me?" He stammered, disbelief colouring his golden eyes. "You heard me loud and clear, you walk around thinking you are entitled to treat people in any way you want. NEWSFLASH you are just another repulsive, big-head jerk who doesn't deserve any of this!" I continued, gesturing to the whole overwhelming immensity of Hogwarts.


 

"Listen is this about the other night." He asked trying to keep his cool although I could see through the hard exterior the flinch, the surprise, the confusion, and the hurt, as I hit him with my abusive words.



 

I stared in disbelief at the boy standing in front of me, where he was openly addressing the very reason I was here as if it was another mundane night, I neglected to remind myself to the possibility that he, in fact, had no clue of what had, in fact, occurred that night. I was livid and I wanted blood. "Yes, it's about the other night you fucktard! You had no right!" I screeched, I could feel Dominique step closer to me. I breathed a big deep breath.



 

"No right?" He echoed quickly losing the calm he had been trying to maintain, "You are the one who has no right, to stand here, with no justification, and insult me and call me shit, in front of all my friends!" He laughed shakily.


 

I was entering a dangerous stage of anger…


 

"I am perfectly entitled to stand here and call you shit when you feel you are entitled to use me in that way," I screamed, Dominique and Fred both moved closer. James looked lost for words, those golden eyes widened in bewilderment, "Use you?" He repeated shaking his head, a nasty smile slipping onto his face, "Listen, love, It's not my fault if you can't hold your liquor. Get over yourself.”



 

Dominique gasped behind me.



 

Suddenly, all the red, all the hurt and anger dissipated in a matter of milliseconds. Everything was clear, still, calm…

 

 

 

 

 

A smile graced my lips, wide with pleasure. I  laughed up at the sky, taking it all in and savoring this feeling of clarity and control. ”See you around JAMES!" I murmured, amusement pressing at my tongue and turning my words sweet with malice. I span on my heel, charging back up towards the castle.



 

"Pardon?" James cried after me, looking almost as muddled and dazed as poor Dominique who was running after me.


 

I looked over my shoulder, sporting a delicious grin of venom, "You just declared war James Potter.”


 

 

******



 

The sights and smells of Hogwarts at 7 am brought many joys to the mind, it had come to remind me of a quote my grandfather would always say without fail every morning,  "One should not attend even the end of the world without a good breakfast.” It was just a nonsense quote from some old writer or there, but at this moment in time, it spoke to me more than ever.



 

Plates and plates of foods lay glinting, and teasing those of us morning risers. Cereals, Pancakes, Toast, Fry Ups, anything you could name. All spread out before my hungry eyes, like a pretty dream in a pretty land. 


 

Dominique made a gurgling sound by my side, the blonde and I had bonded over a mutual hate for anything that wasn't food in the morning, appreciating silence leaving only the chit-chat of our teeth against mouthwatering foods. 


 

“Morning.” She said for the first time in the 24 minutes we had been sat together, “Good morning, Dominique.” I beamed sarcastically as if there was no brighter site then her in that precise moment. She rolled her eyes scoffing down another slice of toast smothered in jam, leaving crumbs and smears of sticky, pink stuck to the corners of her mouth.


 

We sat in appreciated silence, munching on our food and making the occasional observation on something one or the other found amusing. But much to the chagrin of us both, that silence was soon broken by my unlikely new friend: Zinnia Pritchett.



 

She looked as dapper and jolly as ever, a scarlet headband firmly in place on her equally as perfect ringlets, all topped off with her neat and tidy smile. Glinting angelically.


 

 

“Good Morning ladies.” 



 

By her side was a tall girl I didn’t recognize, wide green eyes stared back at me, eerily inspecting every detail of my face, a smirk twitching at her lips as if she were currently analyzing the contents of my soul.



 

“Poppy, I don't think you've met my cousin, this Araminta Vane,” Zinnia giggled putting emphasis on the name ‘Vane’as if it were to have some significance to me. I nodded some form of acknowledgment as the two sat down opposite me and Dominique. 



 

“Soo, how are you doing?” Zinnia said lowering her voice as if the question would be responded with a piece of prized information, that Zinnia and only Zinnia could know. 



 

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Since the eventful party, I had made a promise to Dominique that I would try and make an effort with Zinnia. So instead I smiled gratefully, “I’m ok, better then ever actually,” I replied.



 

Zinnia beamed at my reply. She wasn't all that bad, quite endearing actually, mildly irritating yes. But she had also never said one bad word to me, and she had always tried to make me feel welcome.


 

“Zinnia has told me everything, it hasn't left my lips, of course, It really is a shame what happened to you, James Potter has always been a foul rat in my opinion,” Araminta spoke up for the first time, she had a thick welsh accent which sounded like velvet to the ears, but underneath lay a sly tone of malice, waiting to pounce on my wrong move. 



 

Dominique's jaw clenched. 


 

We had avoided all forms of conversation addressing how she felt about all of this, of course, she would burst into occasional flames of anger when fitting and would assist me on any trash talking or plotting I would do. But the idea of talking about her ‘feelings’ mad me tremble in my boots. 



 

“Thanks for the moral support. It’s greatly needed,” I said dryly. Dominique snorted into her pumpkin juice, whereas Araminta didn't even blink. Instead, she smiled down into her food. 


 

For the rest of breakfast, we all made the usual cheery small talk, which is nice for a while but soon gets mildly boring. Towards the end closing now on half-past eight, my eyes began to drift around. Focusing on the students trickling out of the hall, on the occasional moron dosing off in their food, and finally on James.



 

We hadn't seen much of each other since our confrontation the week prior. But the gossip had been circulating ever since the moment I had stormed out of that Quidditch pitch. In the course of a week I had received more death threats and supportive pats then I could count. Numerous younger girls had tried to trip me up in the hallways, and far too many others had failed to give me a hug or some odd trinket. I sent one particularly empathetic 4th year away with a bruised arm. Of course, not one people had any form of the idea of what happened between James and me, most dismissed it as a petty fight, others were convinced I was James' crazy stalker. But in truth, I was nervous. I had made the call for revenge, I had even acted on it. I had thrown dung bombs in his dorm room, changed the color of his shirts to fluorescent pink, and even had gone as far as to send him a howler. And yet still no response. 



 
 

With each day I grew more paranoid, expecting his comeback at every corner. No response. I knew I would have to act again, something bigger this time, something that he couldn't ignore. 



 

My eyes flitted now to his girlfriend on the table opposite ours. A pretty blonde who seemed far too sweet and innocent to be with such a troll. They had only been ‘official’ for a few days but already had demonstrated more PDA than was necessary for a year. However today the two weren't sitting together, James instead lofting to sit with the other Gryffindor boys.



 

I skimmed each one of them, expecting maybe one to look up and smile or maybe even glare. Not a second later a girl with a mane of untamed curls strolled up to the four boys. She couldn't have been younger than 15 and yet she was very pretty, with gorgeous crystal eyes and smooth, dark skin. 



 

James and she soon struck up a conversation, laughing and exchanging whispers. I looked back to James’ girlfriend to see if she too had caught on to the blatant flirtation. She was oblivious.




 

My mind clicked. 



 
 

“Zinnia, who's that girl over there? The one next to James.” I asked the other girl who was absentmindedly twisting a curl around her finger, as the other two chattered away eagerly. Her head swiveled round to where James sat at the end of the table.  



 

“We’re looking at the girl with huge hair right?” Zinnia asked. I nodded eagerly leaning forward on the table. 


 

“Oh! That’s Rose.” She replied turning back to face me. 



 

“Are they… Are they close?” I asked trying to word my question correctly without coming off too interested. 


 

“James and Rose? Very. They've always had a special relationship I think.” Zinnia nodded spreading about of gallon of Nutella over her toast and then making no inoculation to eat it. 



 

“Special, huh?” 


 

Zinnia nodded not seeming to pay much attention to me or my suggestive tone. Staring at the toast intensely. “Very.” She murmured picking at the chocolate spread with her finger before shoving it in her mouth. She sighed heavily marveling at the taste.


 

I was already cooking up a plan in my mind. One that James just couldn't ignore.


 

Perhaps Zinnia and I could be good friends after all. 



 

******



 

Dominique Weasley crashed into the wall with a bone shattering thud, any shred of dignity she may have had intact quickly gone, replaced with a daft expression as she lay on the stone floor.



 
 

I had to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing. The victim of my laughter herself looked up in a daze, a slightly queasy looking smile pulling at her pink lips, and she too muffled hysterical giggles. 



 

It suddenly occurred to the both of us that we were not in the correct place to be making any kind of noise. Simultaneously our heads snapped towards the direction of the stairs, expecting James, or perhaps one of the other Gryffindor boys to prance down and catch us in the act. Instead, we're met with silence. My shoulders slumped in relief, and I slowly helped Dominique to get up as if any form of rushed movement would alert the whole school of what we were doing.



 

“Everyones at dinner,” Dominique assured, watching my cautious demeanor with a coy smile. We exchanged eye contact. The same thought passing between both of us. A smirk slipped onto my face. 


 

Tom Cruise had nothing on me and Dominique. I would do a sloth roll, Dominique a cartwheel, again and again, all the way up the stairs. Both singing an out of key, wobbly, and pitiful version of the Mission Impossible theme tune, occasionally broken up by necessary, yet outrageously loud laughter.


 

When we finally reached the top floor, we were both out of breath and in stitches. Oblivious to the fact that our plan was actually working. The door stood before us, questioning us if we really wanted to go forward with this,  Dominique stopped altogether. Looking at me with nerves clouding her pretty blue eyes. I nodded, instinctively looking behind my shoulder before opening the door.



 
 

Instantly we were hit with a wave of rotting food, and a smell that was so pungent, and repulsively, awful it could only be one thing. Boy.



 

I swallowed hard, fighting back the bile. 



 

“This is Fred Weasley’s dorm alright,” Dominique muttered under her breath, looking around to make sure no one was there.  I smirked feeling a tingling sensation run up from my toes right up to the tips of my ears as my plan seemed to fall perfectly into place.



 

We walked in looking around cautiously at each bed, the image of James hiding under one, anticipating our arrival, seemed all too likely and terrifying, to say the least. As soon as it was clear the dorm was empty, Dominique and I shared a sigh of relief, small smiles greeting each other from across the room as we came to the final step in the whole masterpiece we had created. 


 

My eyes drifted towards the bed that Dominique was sat on, unlike the other it was perfectly made, the sheets had been pressed and the pillow fluffed, a single poster of some band I didn’t recognize hung above, also perfectly positioned. I thought of the boy who slept in this bed, who went out with a pretty and nice girl, and who was friends with people like Dominique and Fred. A nice boy, and then that image was quickly shattered by the boy who spiked a girl's drink just for fun. It didn’t fit. 



 

“Where are the letters again?” Dominique asked in a hushed tone, I jumped out of my daze to begin frantically trying to make them look less crumpled. 



 

Dominique and I had spent the entirety of last night writing these damned love letters, desperately trying to make them seem convincing and at the same time exaggerated. We knew full well that it would only take one letter to put into action what we were hoping for, but the more convincing it was the better. 


 

I began to find an obvious place to leave the letters, looking at his bed and night table for somewhere slightly concealed, before settling for wedging between a stack of books. 



 

“You never did tell me who his little miss is meant to be,” Dominique giggled gesturing towards the letters, as she watched me struggle to make them more noticed in-between the books. 


 

“Some Rose girl I noticed talking to James the other day…” I huffed moving them around a tiny bit. My ears pricked up as I heard noises outside.


 

Dominique sat up a bit. 



 

“Wait did you say, Rose?” 


 

Se was cut off as the door flew open. I quickly dived under the bed, grabbing Dominique’s hand and pulling her down with me, so that we were lying on the dusty floor on our bellies, trying our best not to breathe too heavily.


 

“I’m a pain, I inherited from my mum what can I say.” I heard a girls voice sound. Dominique cursed far too loudly.  “What was that?” The voice repeated, directing it at a pair of large feet that had approached our line of view.


 

“You're not half that bad, I said.” 

 

 

 

 

 

Chills ran down my spine, as I realized that both the large feet and one of the voices, belonged to the worst person imaginable in this moment possible. James fricking Potter.


 

The girl laughed lightly. “You're a tease,” I heard her say but her voice seemed closer now. “Oh, I never Ms. Edgecomb.” His voice was husky and low. And Dominique and I watched in stunned silence as his girlfriend's feet inched closer to his. 


 

I didn’t hear what she said next. As all of a sudden, I heard springs on the bed squeak and their feet were dangling centimeters higher than before.



 

Dominique screeched under her breath, exchanging my nauseous expression. “Poppy, I don’t care how much you want this plan to work. I am not about to witness my cousin having sex!” She all but screeched, I smothered her next words with my hand. Looking around the room, ignoring the moans coming from Dominique. A glass was positioned far too near to the edge of the sink which I could just about make out through a wide crack in the toilet door. I took a deep breath squinting my eyes to get the best possible view, with a flourish of my wand, the sound of glass smacking into stone echoed around the dorm. 



 

"What was that?!' The girl cried, both hers and James' feet jumping up and heading towards the washroom. Now was our chance. Grabbing hold of Dominiques hand, I managedto worm my way out from under the bed unnoticed, before jolting for the door. My legs seemed to carry me down the next two flights of stairs, the sound of Dominiques hurried footsteps not far behind. 



 

I could feel a stitch coming along, I was struggling for air, and my legs felt weak, but I carried on running. "Poppy!" Dominique shouted as we neared the end of the stairs. I spun on my heel to be faced with Dominique's face of pure terror.



 

"Alright?" I asked in fear for my own life, with the look extreme rage she was giving me, her expression screamed murder on my behalf. "You said you were writing these letters from 'Rose' Just now. I really hope I heard you wrong," I frowned in confusion, "No, you heard me loud and clear. Why?" 



 

I wasn't met with an answer.


 

Dominiques's face had turned parchment pale. Her lips parted, she was gone, darting back up the stairs in a wisp of blonde hair. "Dominique! Wait! What are you doing?!" I cried jolting up the stairs after her, my limbs were aching, but the prospect of Dominique jeopardizing our whole plan seemed to motivate me to fight off the burning pang of my the soles of my feet. 


 

By the time we had reached the top flight of the stairs, muffled screams made the floor tremble, vibrating off of every wall, the horrific sound sending shivers down my spine. Dominique looked towards the shaking door in bewilderment, perplexed on whether or not to open it. It was everything I had wanted to hear, and yet seeing the look on Dominique's face, informed me there was something very, very wrong. 


 

Without a word uttered, her pale hand's grasped hold of the doorknob, twisting it and forcing it open. Inside we were met with disastrous chaos. The sweet, angelic girl from before, resembled a rabid lion as she pounced on the bed throwing every object she could grasp at the cowering James. Yells were emitted from both of them. None of it audible over the smashing of James' possessions against the walls of the dorm, a pretty pattern of different fragments of objects assembled around our feet. And on the bed, lay the pile of torn open love letters, smirking up at the pandemonium it had caused. 


 

But all I could focus on was the repeated girl's hollers, "YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH YOUR COUSIN?!" Drowning out every other existing noise in the entire castle.


 

My ears ringed and my vision blurred.


 

Oh, mother of Merlin, I was indeed, very much so, fucked. 



 

 



 

*****************



 

 



 

A/N:: The Routinely apology for another seriously long wait!! Yes I know, I'm awful. What can I say? :)) I was horrendously busy during the summer and had no time at all to write. BUT, I'm back now and hopefully, chapters should be appearing more consistently now, although, I can NOT make any promises considering I have a v v big year ahead of me. But I really hope people enjoy reading this fic, as much as I enjoy writing it!! Poppy and all her madness included. Just a disclaimer I don't own anything you may recognize!! And another friendly reminder, I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE reviews ;)), so please feel free to share any questions, comments or criticism. 



 
P.S. I KNOW this fic at this moemnt seems v v stereotypical, I promise you it really isn't, it will get better as the plot thickens...!!

 


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Adamantine : Chapter VI: Hangovers and Love Letters

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