"It's… a condom."

James Potter was getting to second base.

"Eyes certainly weren't wasted on you, Kenzie."

On my favorite armchair by the fire.

"And what were you planning on doing with a condom? You're twelve."

With my sister.

"Fifteen, actually, but I reckon all that alcohol was bound to affect your memory eventually."

I knew I had a reason to rummage through her drawers.

"Keira Holland!"

A grimace escaped me when I met Keira's eyes. Attempting damage control, my pursed lips quickly transformed into a meek smile as my baby sister raised her arm in an effort to give me a very ill-coordinated high five while James was, err, busy with her neck.

"Oh fine. I was planning on filling it up with water and dropping it on some unsuspecting student from the Astronomy Tower, you caught me. Why? What do you use them for?"

She missed and slapped James' forehead instead.

"I hate you."

I hate her.

It wasn't enough that her legs were longer and her skin was flawless. It wasn't enough that most people proceeded to tell me that "She looked like the older sister, ha ha ha." Here she was snogging the fittest bloke in my year and attempting to knock him unconscious in the process, and she still looked more attractive than me. It was like her sole purpose in life was to one-up –

Holy Merlin, their gyrating limbs were getting dangerous.

Wanting to dodge the subsequent blackout catastrophes that were sure to follow – and, quite frankly, getting uncomfortable with watching my sister use her tongue like that on such an Adonis (have some respect) – I found my way to the center of the Gryffindor common room. With a long and dramatic sigh I popped open the bottle of Firewhiskey I had brought to this hot mess of a Halloween party. It was meant to be shared with friends but given my irritable state I took a thorough swig while some twat pinched my arse and disappeared into the abyss of the crowd.

The most action I had all night, and I was almost positive he was some fourth year who should really be in bed.

Trying not to sob into my new friend, Bottle, I took another swig. It tasted vile and I almost started evaluating my choices when my eyes caught my tart of a sister leading James up the stairs to the seventh year boys' dormitory. She had the audacity to lead a Potter up to his own bedroom when I can't even talk to the younger one – in Keira's year, mind you – without sputtering like someone who needs to be frequently medicated? I put Bottle to my lips, apologized for forsaking him (her? It?), and chugged.

She probably wasn't even going to use the condom!

Oh wait. I took it.

Not that I have any use for it. That would require somebody with male parts to say –

"Kenzie! Oy!"

"Thass what they call me," I slurred and spun around, two things I apparently cannot do at the same time, as I fell into the arms of the caller. I recoiled immediately. I should have smelled that douchebag cologne from a mile away. "Wood." I didn't even try to mask my disappointment. "What do you want?"

"You," he whispered dramatically, a smirk dancing on his stupid face.

"Sod off. No you don't."

"Right-o. But I figured you would be desperate enough for a quick lay after watching your sister get with Potter. Isn't she a fifth year?"

"Do me a favor," I started, brandishing Bottle wildly. "Hop on your broomstick, fly to Azkaban, and maybe you'll get lucky with one of the Dementors." With each syllable my finger jabbed into his dumb, rock hard chest. "I hear they're desperate for a kiss."

He guffawed, grabbing my wrist to stop me from drilling a hole into his clothes with my finger. His smile was sexy and his skin was soft.

Wait. What?

"Kenzie?"

"Wait. What?"

"I said that was funny."

His chest heaved as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. Eyeing the shiny goblet half filled with what I could only assume was spiked pumpkin juice, I realized that he was hanging out with his own Bottle this evening.

"So is… your… face…"

Apparently there was a negative correlation between my snarky retorts and the amount of Firewhiskey I consume.

"I'm sorry." He ran his fingers through his hair, a look of shame etched across his face so suddenly I could not help but envy that Noah Wood's Bottle made him a better person while my Bottle clearly put me on a steady decline. I mean, Merlin's left pant leg, I was finding him attractive right now. "About what I said about your sister. That was out of line."

What happened next was very primal. Our lips fused in the least romantic way possible. His fingers wove through my hair and dug into the back of my neck while his bottom lip bled into my mouth a little bit because apparently Drunk Kenzie is a vampire. It was electrifying. It was fervent. It was…

It was Wood.

I broke away before either of us had time to panic. I stood there feeling disoriented, a feeling that I unfortunately could not blame Bottle for.

"Got a bit cheeky there, eh, Holland?" He asked lightly, wiping the spec of remaining blood from his mouth. "I'll take that as an apology accepted." With a wink, he disappeared into the crowd of drunken, disorderly mayhem that had apparently migrated to the corner.

Standing on the outskirts, I realized I was the greatest mess of them all.

"OH JAMES."

Never mind.