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The Sacred Twenty-Eight Club by xoxo_jpotter
Chapter 13 : Same World, Different Perspective
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 6


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Chapter image by flyingdove @ TDA



 

 

 

 

 

The door opened, revealing the last person whose doorstep I would be on tonight.


"Carina?"


Tristian Bulstrode stood in the doorway of his tiny London flat, shirtless with his bronze hair ruffled. His perfectly sculpted face was scrunched in confusion. I didn't blame him though, for the last time I had seen my ex boyfriend I swore I would never see him again.


I shifted my weight awkwardly. "Well, are you going to let me in, or did you want to stand in the cold all night?"


He held his hands up and stepped aside. "My apologies," he shut the door behind me, "although you'll forgive me if I'm a little surprised to see you here. You made it pretty clear you never wanted to see me again."


"If I remember correctly, I said it would be wrong if we saw each other again," I clarified, taking a seat in his crammed kitchen.


"Mhmm." He examined me, leaning against his counter. "Wasn't the Carrow's New Year's party tonight?"


"Yep."


He took a looked over my disarrayed dress and smeared makeup.


"Want a drink?"


"I thought you'd never ask."





Tristian and I had dated since I was in fifth year- he was a year older- and he was the perfect first boyfriend. He was smart, charming, came from a good family, and I actually liked him. I was shy and reserved, but he made me open up. Without him, I probably would've ditched my friends and conformed to the Sacred Twenty-Eight Club.


He understood the injustices of the pureblood community, the affairs. We always talked about running away together and leaving that behind us, but I was too scared. He wasn't, though. Before the end of his seventh year, he left, forcing his family to disown him. It left me heartbroken, but three days later, I was set up with Scorpius, and I was forced to put on a happy facade.


After staying up for the rest of the night talking, I felt as if I had found a missing part of myself. There were some things I couldn't tell my friends, but Tristian understood it all. I was so confused about everything, but I knew one thing for sure. I would never go back to my family.


My head pounded as the light from the window beamed directly into my closed eyes. I groaned, putting a pillow over my head and flipping over. I wasn't sure when I had finally passed out last night or how I got changed into one of Tristian's old t-shirts, but that didn't matter as much as eating did.

I crawled out of bed and dragged myself into the kitchen.


"Good morning, sunshine!" Tristian chirped. He was once again shirtless as he sat on the only barstool, reading what appeared to be a muggle newspaper.


"Whatever," I muttered, taking his mug and sitting on the counter. I took a sip and immediately spat it out. "What is that?"


"Some people drink coffee in the morning," he explained, taking the mug bank and drinking a huge gulp. "Me, I prefer a little Scotch."


"You're disgusting."


"That's not what you were saying last night." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.


"Shut up, you prat."


I had, in my extremely vulnerable state, poorly attempted to make a move on him last night. Luckily, he quickly ended it before I did something I would regret.


"You know for a guest in my home, you sure are rude," he quipped, leaning back in his chair and reading his newspaper. "Did you learn nothing from your parents?"


"Funny." I deadpanned. But the mention of my parents struck a chord. What was going to happen to me now? They would never want to see me again. I had embarassed then left them at the biggest event of the year.


Tristian could sense my mood and tried to lighten the atmosphere. "Were you going to make your own breakfast, or are you going to continue to steal mine?"


I snatched his last piece of toast on his plate. "I'll stick with eating yours," I said, taking a giant chomp. A glob of jam fell onto the shirt I was wearing, which I recognized as his Slytherin quidditch kit.


"Charming," he replied with a smirk. I simply shrugged and wiped off what I could. "As hot as you look in my shirt," I threw the rest of my toast at him, "can't you ruin your own clothes?"


My witty remark was left on the tip of my tongue as a realisation hit me. I didn't have anything with me except my dress and my wand. My trunk, books, clothes, and everything I owned was at my house. I could never go back! They'd never let me!


"Car, what's wrong?" Tristian asked, concerned, snapping me out of my daze.


"I have nothing," I whispered, looking down. All these years I had been rejecting my family, thinking I was separating them. I never realised how much I relied on them until now.


"Well that's where you're wrong," Tristian responded, walking into his tiny kitchen.


"What do you mean?"


"I mean," he rumaged through his refrigerator, which seemed to be bigger on the inside than the outside, "I may or may not have snuck into your house while you were sleeping and grabbed everything from your room." He slid my huge trunk out and carried over to the counter I was sitting on.


"Everything!" I exclaimed in disbelief.


"Well, everything I knew you cared about," he clarified, rubbing the back of his neck. "And I expanded your trunk so it would all fit."


"Thank you!" I pulled him into a tight hug. "I don't know what I'd do without you."


He pulled me in tighter, then slowly released me so he could look into my eyes. He smile slowly left his face, as he stood in front of me, placing one hand on my knee and the other brushing my hair back. "Carina, I know I stopped things last night, but that's because I wanted you to be sober when I did this." He closed his eyes and leaned in.


Just as his lips were about to touch mine, I gently pushed him back. "No, we can't."


"But don't you see, we can," he insisted, rubbing circles on my hand with his thumb. "We're finally free from them, and we can live how we choose. Together."


"Maybe we could have, but things are different now," I said, looking down. "I mean, you left."


"I know, and I'm sorry, but now-"


"I have feelings for someone else," I blurted out.


"Oh..." his face fell slightly, but he quickly recovered it, "how long have you been seeing each other."


"Well, we haven't exactly been seeing each other... it's a bit... complicated." I trailed off looking at my hands in my lap.


"Care to elaborate?" he asked.


I took a deep breath. "I never liked him, you know? He was never on my radar, but then one day, he was. And it was just supposed to be fun, because I didn't have feelings for him, and it was fun fooling around in secret." I had said this all in one breath, so I paused briefly to breathe. Tristian remained silent, waiting for me to continue. "Well, I gues the simple way to put it is we got into a huge fight before holidays and ended things, which was fine... until I realised... it wasn't."


Tristian snorted when I was finished. "Why is it always the quiet ones who are so wild?"


"Excuse me." As insensitive as he could be, I didn't expect him to be laughing at my problems.


"Come off it, Car, I don't mean it in a bad way. I just remember you being the quiet, nerdy Ravenclaw, and now look at you! You're friends with muggleborns, sneaking around with random guys, and running away from your family." He said this all between fits of laughter. "I swear you were probably the last person anyone would suspect of breaking rules!"


At this, I also had to laugh. I knew I always looked like a goody two shoes, and I was sure that most members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight Club would have a fit if they even knew one rebellious thing I had done. My repuatation was stellar.


At least it had been until now.


"What can I say, I was born a wild child," I joked, shrugging.


"That you were," he agreed, nodding. "Although I have to ask, who was the guy?"


"Jmss Pttr," I mumbled, refusing to make eye contact.


"James Potter," I restated more clearly, still avoiding his eyes.


He started laughing again. "Of all the people-"


"I know."


"-a Potter-"


"I know."


"-that's like a death sentence if you would have been caught!" he declared, still recovering from his fits of laughter.


"I know," I sighed, remembering how lucky I was to have not been caught.


"What a wild child you are," he laughed slinging his arm around me.





With only a couple of days before I had to go back to Hogwarts, Tristian had insisted on showing me around muggle-London. And Merlin did these muggles live crazy lives. I wasn't allowed to take Muggle Studies, so my only insight to their world was Zoe, who let's face it, really only talked about the muggle gossip.


First he took me on the Tube, which was a train, but they put it underground! We looked around at some of the shops, where they sold the weird looking clothes I always saw muggleborns at my school wearing. He took my to what he called 'tourist' spots too, like the big clock tower and the huge spinning wheel.


It was amazing to think that I had been coming to this city for my entire life, yet there was so much I had never seen!


Eventually, however, Tristian had to go to work- a muggle bar that he tended. Having nothing better to do, I chose to tag along.


"How about a Bloody Mary?" I asked, picking another item off the menu.


"Car, that's the fifth free drink I've given you. My boss won;t let me give you anymore," He insisted, rolling his eyes.


"I have money! I'll pay you back later!" I promisied, finishing off the last of the martini he had made me.


He took my empty glass and started cleaning it. "Rule one of abandoning The Sacred Twenty-Eight Club, you no longer have any money. I can garuntee you that by now your vault at Gringotts is empty, and you will recieve your final eviction letter very soon, complete with the family seal," he harshly recalled.


"I know," I groaned. As freeing as it was to have escaped from them, it was starting to become a real pain in the arse.


"You'll be fine, and you have me. Obviously, I know how to succeed." He gestured around the nearly empty, slightly rundown bar.


After leaving, it was impossible to get a job in the wizarding world, and with his lack of experience, he wasn't able to find a job in the muggleworld either. Finally, he was able to persuade (confund) the old owner of this bar to let him work part time.


"Obviously," I agreed with a smirk.


We were interrupted by a middle aged scruffy man, who had been at the bar since before Tristian shift had somehow made his way into the seat next to me. His straggly brown hair was starting to gray and he looked as though he hadn't shaved in weeks. His bloodshot eyes scanned my body, and he gave me a toothy grin.


"Hello there, darling," he slurred, his breath smelling like pure alcohol. I had to resist the urge to vomit.


"Hello," I squeaked, unsure of what to say.


He placed his hand on my thigh. "How about we take this back to my place."


Before I could even recoil at his touch, his hand was off me and his stool was empty. Tristian had leapt over the bar and was repeatedly punching the drunk sod.


"Tristian!" I shouted as the few other atrons began to form a crown. "Tristian! Stop!"


However, it wasn't until his manager pulled him up, covered in blood, that he stopped, rage still covering his face.


"Get out of here and don't come back," his manager, a young brown-haired man, cried, looking slightly terrified.


"Come on," Tristian growled, taking my hand and pulling me out of the bar.


We walked home in silence.


Tristian had always been a bit of a violent guy, not towards me, but to others. It was something I learned to accept, which I later realised was not healthy. He was constantly getting into fights, both wizard-style and muggle-style, particularly towards men he thought were after me.


Things had changed now that he had more freedom, but he was the same Tristian, and I wasn't sure if that should frighten me.


"Are we going to talk about what just happened?" I asked once we were in his flat.


"It's fine," he replied, taking off his coat and plopping down on his torn sofa, "I'll go back tomorrow after I drop you off and get my job back. Might have to obliviate my manager a bit, but it should all work out."


"Tristian," I walked over to him and grabbed his face, "you beat the crap out of some drunk bloke-"


"Who was harassing you!" he interjected.


"There are other ways to deal with problems," I said, shaking my head.


"Please, I see him come in at least three times a week and harass poor young girls. He got what was coming to him."


I pinched the bridge of my nose. There was no way to win an argument with him, as I had leared over the years. I just had to learned to concede before we started yelling at each other.


"I don't like watching you beat people up," I sighed, doing the same puppy dog eyes Zoe always did.


It worked like a charm. His face softened. "I'm sorry you had to see that." He put his hand, which had busted knuckled that were still bleeding. "It won't happen again."


"Good," I said, walking towards his bedroom.


"At least not with you around," he added.


I sighed. That was the best I was going to get. "You might want to patch up those wounds," I suggested before closing the door and getting ready for bed.





"You know you didn't have to come," I told him for the millionth time.


"I know, but I wanted to," Tristian replied for the millionth. He then huffed for the millionth and one time.


"All right," I declared, coming to a halt and facing him. He stopped abruptly, taken aback, and nearly knocked over my trunk, which he was lugging behind him. "If you have an issue, speak now or forever hold your peace."


We were just outside Kings Cross, and I wasn't sure if he didn't want to see anyone he knew or if he just hated train stations, but he was being a real drag.


"I'm sorry, I'll be on my best behaviour," he promised with a gleaming smile.


"Good."


We turned and walked through the crowded station. We managed to make it all the way into Platform 9 3/4 without seeing any members of The Sacred Twenty-Eight Club.


"Well, I guess this is it," I said, slightly sad but mostly nervous about what was waiting for me. I leaned in to give him a quick hug. "Thank you for everything."


"Anytime," he said. He looked at something over my shoulder then looked back ot me with a brilliant smile. "One more for the road?" he asked, stretching his arms out for a hug.


I hugged him again, and he squeezed me tightly. Meanwhile, he moved his hands down, firmly gripping my arse. I instantly ended the hus, pushing off of him.


"Tristian, you perv," I whispered, trying not to call attention to us.


He looked over my shoulder and winked, then faced me again. "Come on, Car, I was just messing around."


I turned to see what he was looking at, only to see the back of a messy black haired guy storming off onto the train.


"You're a prick," I spat, stepping away from him. "You knew he was watching."


"He's a big boy, he'll get over it," he laughed.


"Go to hell," I snarled before storming off to the train.


As soon as I got on the train, all I wanted to do was find Zoe. Everything was weighing me down and I needed to talk to my best friend and get everything off my chest. The compartments in the section of the train we sat in were all empty, thankfully.


At least I had thought they were.


Someone bumped into me as they were leaving an empty compartment.


"Sorry," I said, looking up into familiar hazel eyes.


"You should be," he grumbled, trying to move past me.


"James, wait," I said, stopping him with my hand on his chest. I tried to ignore his recoil from my touch. "Tristian isn't-"


"You don't have to explain you boyfriend to me. I thought we established that you were nothing but an occasional shag," he said venomously, spiiting back my previous words.


"A lot happened, and if you would-"


"No, I get it you need someone with pureblood, princess. Don't let me stop you." Before I could respond, he pushed past me and made his way towards the fuller sections of the train.


I took a deep breath and calmly walked into the back compartment, where my friends had all gathered.


"Car!" Zoe cried, ambushing me with a hug that I barely reciprocated. "Tell me everything."


I thought about everything that had happened in such a short time, which I had just allowed to build up. My grandparents, my parents, Tristian, James. They all whirled through my head until finally I was full out sobbing on Zoe's shoulder, something she'd never seen me do.


It was the first of many changes in my life.






Later that night, I recieved a letter, complete with the family seal. My stomach sank as I opened it.


Miss Fawley,
Given recent events, representatives of the Rowle-Fawley family, along with head members of The Sacred Twenty-Eight Club, met to discuss your misconducted behaviour. Due to your distasteful display along with the other countless rules broken, we have hereby terminated your membership. Any connection with The Sacred Twenty-Eight Club has officially been removed from your name.
Furthermore, under the decision of the Rowle-Fawley party, you have also been removed. This includes, but is not limited to, the closing off of any inheritance or bank accounts under the Rowle-Fawley name, any use of the family seal, and any property in the Rowle-Fawley name.
Any violations shall be handled at the discretion of the council.
Regards,
Norma Fawley (nee Rowle)

__________________________________________________________________________________


A/N: Okay I know I'm the absolute worst, and I have no one to blame but myself! Please say that you'll forgive me!
Anyways, I really want to know what you guys think! Were you expecting Tristian? What do you think about him? And what about that brief James moment? I want to know everything!
And also, I know I've been so lame, but I'm making a promise now that I will respond to all reviews in a timely manner, so ask/tell me anything and I'll answer!

xoxo
-M


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