Stay Young, Go Dancing
For Ashley: This is, after all, your fault.
Chapter 1—September
IMPORTANT NOTE! PLEASE READ: This story deals with sensitive issues such as teen pregnancy and abortion. If either of these makes you uncomfortable, please do not read. While you may disagree with the views expressed in this story, please, keep your opinions to yourself.
Because what is simple in the moonlight by the morning never is—"Lua" by Bright Eyes
The party doesn't start until I walk in. It's true. I'm not exaggerating here. Quidditch parties, birthday parties, holiday parties, themed parties, random, for the hell of it parties—all of these are only a success because of me.
And no, I'm not some fancy-shmancy party planner either. I just bring the fun.
I know what you're thinking. Who are you, and where did you get such an inflated sense of self importance?
Well, for starters, I do not have an inflated sense of self importance. And as for who I am, well, the name's Marian Campbell. Seventeen. Muggleborn. Hufflepuff. Patron Hogwarts Saint of Parties and Poor Life Choices.
Okay, calling myself a saint might be a bit much. Especially because I'm fairly certain I've never done anything saint-like in my entire life. You know, the whole party thing? Yeah. Definitely not saint-like.
But the point is that my presence (or lack thereof) at a party can and will make or break it.
There are requirements if you want me to show up at your party. A couple of rules, if you will.
Rule Number 1: It needs to be a wet party. There needs to be alcohol. Alcohol helps everyone loosen up. And quite frankly, I can't think of a more depressing thing then being forced to dance with a boy, a group of friends, hell, anyone, sober. It just makes me think of being at a fifth grade dance, where you all awkwardly dance in groups and boys and girls still hate the idea of being near each other. Never been to one? Trust me, you're not missing out.
And Rule Number 2: I don't do anything less than rambunctious. Seriously. Your quiet little get together is not where I want to be on a Saturday night. There needs to be music and so many people that I actually bump into someone I don't know. I don't want to remember your party in the morning, that's how rambunctious I want it to be.
You make sure that your party is these two things, and I'll be there, along with the rest of the Hufflepuff Queen Bees. And if we're there, trust me, everyone else will be too.
And this is why the Slytherin common room was filled with people tonight. The first quidditch match of the season had concluded earlier today, and Slytherin had slaughtered Ravenclaw, 260 to 40. Now normally, I don't bother much with Slytherin parties. They're a grim, serious little bunch and I'm more, well…not grim and serious. But Scorpius Malfoy, Slytherin quidditch captain and seventh year hottie, invited me to the party and who was I to say no?
Well, I say no to a lot of parties people throw, but that's beside the point. Last year, Malfoy and I had been partners in Potions for our final project. Now Potions is one of the few subjects which I get an O in. It's not that I'm dumb, it's just that if I'm not particularly interested in a subject, I just can't be bothered with it. Sadly, this goes for most of the subjects I study in school. But Potions was something I found ridiculously fascinating, which was a very lucky thing for Scorpius Malfoy, who happened to be absolutely terrible at Potions. Not that he didn't try; oh no, the poor sod certainly deserved an O for the effort he put into the class alone. But if I left the brewing to him, we'd both be getting Trolls. During the project we had become more than acquaintances who passed each other in the hallway without so much as a nod. Now we actually conversed, not just in class, but outside of it. We were, although I am loath to put a label on it, friends. I mean, we're not going to be staying up late gossiping or anything, but we hang out sometimes. Occasionally, I'll even sit at the Slytherin table and have lunch with Scorpius.
So when his team won their first match, well, as a friend I'm pretty much obligated to make sure that the celebration that followed would be one that Hogwarts would never forget. So with myself and the Hufflepuffs on board, so were the Gryffindors. Even some of the Ravenclaws (well, those not caring that much about quidditch) snuck down to the dungeons for the festivities.
And with the party in full swing, I'll admit I was more than a little bit tipsy. The only reason I knew how many drinks I had is because I stacked all the cups together. I did this so that when people question just how much I've had to drink, I know the answer and have proof to back it up. Currently, I have six red cups stacked together, although the top cup is still half full. I have no idea what exactly is in the drink, but it's red and fruity, which leads me to think that it's some type of punch. Most people were clustered in groups and talking. There was music earlier, but I gathered that the DJ was taking a break.
I took a sip of my drink and made my way over to a group of people. I was pretty popular, so I knew most people well enough that I could fit in with any group. But on my way I stumbled—hey you would stumble sometimes too, if you were wearing five inch heels!—and fell into someone.
"Oi, watch yourself, Campbell." Ah, if it wasn't the voice of my friend Scorpius! He steadied me, but I still teetered slightly, giggling.
"Oh c'mon now, Scorpy," Scorpius cringed at the nickname. "I thought we were passed this whole last names thing. You promised to call me Marian last year." Drunkenly, I wagged my finger at him and winked. "Naughty, naughty boy."
Rose Weasley, Scorpius' girlfriend and perhaps the only girl in the whole school who had hair redder than mine, protectively wrapped her arm around her boyfriend and narrowed her eyes. I cackled in response. "Settle down, Weasley. It's just a bit of harmful flirting. Harmless," I quickly amended, "I mean harmless. Besides, Scorpy here isn't my type."
I always speak the truth. Well, most of the time. But this was one of those times. While Scorpius is a gorgeous example of the male species, with shaggy blonde hair and sparkling grey eyes, he is a serial monogamist. Before Rose Weasley was Clara Whitehall, and before Clara was Stacy Simmons. Each of those relationships had last more than six months. Weasley had lasted the longest so far. They had begun going out last winter. But as for me, well, I don't do relationships. A snog in a broom cupboard? Sure. A summer, no strings attached fling? Most definitely. Skiving off class for a quick shag? Oh yes. But relationships? No.
Life was just too short to bother with entanglements. Perhaps in a few years, I'd settle down and stick with one boyfriend, but right now, all I wanted to do was have fun. And being tied down to one immature, idiot boy at this school would certainly put a damper on things.
"Mare, how drunk are you?"
"I'm not that drunk at all. I've only had," I looked at the cups in my hand and counted the rims. "five drinks."
"Marian, you're holding six cups," Scorpius corrected me, looking slightly amused at my antics.
"I know that. But I haven't finished cup number six yet." I took a big sip of my drink to punctuate this sentence. Weasley, still standing protectively next to Scorpius scoffed. I rolled my eyes at her. "I'm fine. Really. Look!" I then proceeded to try and touch my nose with my fingers, to prove I wasn't that drunk, but foolishly brought the hand still holding my cup to my face. On impact, I grunted and my drink swished forward, spilling down the front of my yellow dress. Scorpius and Rose laughed at me. "Aw, bollocks," I muttered. That was going to stain. And charms weren't exactly my thing. Especially domestic charms while drunk. If I took out my wand, I had a feeling I would only make the stain worse. Or manage to set myself on fire. I wonder if you could get club soda out here in the middle of nowhere Scotland. Probably not. Stupid idea. But I like this dress, okay! Rose seemed to pity me, standing there, looking despondent at my ruined dress. She took out her wand and waved it, making the stain disappear.
"Thanks Weasley." I downed the rest of my drink.
"Hey, Al, could you take her upstairs? Let her sleep it off in my bed." A hand reached out and gently grasped my elbow. I shook it off and started to walk away.
"Go'way. You're such a kill joy, Malfoy."
"Marian!" Scorpius called out after me, but I didn't turn around. Instead, I just walked, rather crookedly, away from him and his snotty girlfriend. I could hear footsteps behind me, but they only caused me to try and speed up.
And here's where my penchant for poor life choices comes into play. I really should know better by now. Running in heels, especially while drunk, has never been something I've been good at. I went tumbling to the floor, the cups in my hand flying off to Merlin knows where. There was a ripping sound and I winced, and not because I had just face planted into the floor.
Looks like the universe is out to make sure I never wear this dress again.
There was a giggle. Then another. And by the time I had hauled myself up and onto my knees, everyone in the room was laughing. I blushed to my roots. Someone reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. I looked up and Albus Potter smiled at me, reaching out his other hand to help me up. Reluctantly I took it and climbed to my feet. I allowed him to lead me to the boys' dormitory staircase, far too embarrassed to make much of a fuss.
God, I can be such a klutz sometimes. And not in the endearing way either; no, it was more of a sudden, unattractive spaz attack way than anything else. No boy has ever looked after me after one of my clumsy spells and gone "Aww you're so adorable!" Most people just laugh at this point; hell, I do most of the time too! This is not the first time, I assure you, drunk or otherwise, that I've faceplanted in front of a crowd.
As we made it to the seventh year boys' dorm, my embarrassment had all but subsided, but considering how dizzy I was feeling, I figured that perhaps Scorpius had been right and I needed to lie down for a bit.
"The room is swaying." Albus laughed.
"The room's not swaying, you are." He placed his hands on my shoulders and I stopped swaying. The room however did not.
"Nope, it's definitely the room," I groaned as a wave of nausea seized me.
"Are you okay?" He asked me, concerned. I shook my head no. "C'mere, lie down." He led me to the bed and I sat down. I leaned forward, putting my head between my legs, trying to make my nausea go away. Al sat down beside me. After a moment, he awkwardly rubbed my back, in what I suppose was meant to be a comforting way.
It wasn't that comforting. But hey, it's the thought that counts I guess? And it's not like I told him to stop. But that might be because I was too busy trying not to puke up all over the floor, Scorpius' bed, and my shoes.
We didn't say anything to each other. He continued to rub my back, eventually moving on to running his fingers through my hair. I continued to focus on not barfing. Finally, I lifted my head slowly and pressed my fingers into my temples. My nausea had subsided, but I could already feel a headache lying in wait for me.
"Do you have any pain relieving potion?" I asked.
"Yeah, hold on." He slid off the bed so that he was crouching on the floor and reached for his trunk under the bed.
Wait. His trunk? Under this bed?
Well, looks like I wasn't taking up Scorpius' sleeping spot after all.
"This is your bed?" I questioned. Maybe I was wrong. Perhaps he just stored his things under Scorpius' bed. Finally getting off the floor after rifling through his trunk, he handed me a vial of a bright red potion. I uncorked it and knocked it back without a second thought, hoping that it wouldn't make me nauseous again.
"Yeah, why?" I shrugged.
"No reason. Just thought it was Scorp's. Sorry I'm taking up your bed."
"It's fine. Not like I'm planning on going to sleep right now or anything."
"Yeah." God, this was awkward. Now, generally, I'm not an awkward person. But Albus clearly was. I didn't really know him, but he had always been rather shy. And who could blame him? His father is Harry Potter! Savior of the Wizarding World and all that. Poor sod must've been watched from when he was a baby. Doesn't help that people still stare at him in the hallways—although, I think it's mostly just first years at this point.
Some people, like his brother James, thrived on that attention. Albus never had. He was more introverted, less confident than his brother. I don't think being sorted into Slytherin helped; hell, it only made people talk more. Put the spotlight on him, when all he wanted to do was hide in the shadows.
I can't say that Albus Potter and I have had any sort of relationship. In fact, I think tonight is the first time we've said more than a couple words to each other. I see him occasionally, when I have lunch with Scorpius, but he keeps to himself when I show up at the Slytherin table. We've never been partners on a project for class, we have no good friends in common, except Scorpius, and he's never even dated one of my friends! Not that he's unattractive or anything; quite the opposite in fact. And girls certainly like him. Eve Spencer has had her eyes on him since fourth year. But Albus would never date a girl like Eve. He's actually a sweet guy. Eve's kind of a bitch. So, I can't quite see them getting together in the near future.
But the point is that Albus Potter and I know next to nothing about each other and this makes the fact that he is now taking care of a slightly less drunk than before me awkward. Awkward to the tenth power. Maximum awkward. Enough awkward to fill the Atlantic Ocean.
You get the idea?
Silence isn't something I enjoy. It's why I don't enjoy the library. And it is also why I was trying to find something to say. Any topic of conversation at all. Just something to make the silence go away.
"How're classes going?" I blurt out finally. Great. School. Wonderful topic. It's only the last thing I want to think about, let alone discuss with someone like Al Potter (who is just as smart as his cousin Rose, if you ask me), especially on a Saturday night.
Riveting conversation topic, Marian. Good going, old girl.
Talking to myself like this can't be healthy.
"They're fine."
"What are you taking?" I ask. Merlin, stop talking Marian!
"I'm taking Arithmancy, Charms, Defense, History of Magic, and Ancient Runes," he answered quietly. I leaned back on his bed, lying down.
"I guess that explains why we aren't friends."
"How so?"
"Well, I mean, we don't really have any classes together. Just Charms."
"You and Scorpius became friends in Potions, right?"
"Yeah." Silence again. The DJ must have returned, because I could hear music coming from the common room again.
"We could be friends, you and I, right?" I shrugged.
"Why not, Potter?"
"If we're going to be friends, then you should stop calling me Potter and call me Al." I smiled.
"Okay then, Al." And just that like an idea struck me. An idea I hoped would take away the awkwardness. "Wanna dance?"
"Dance?" He asked, balking at the idea. "Not fifteen minutes ago, you were going go puke. I'm not sure if jostling you about is a good idea."
"No it's a great idea! C'mon. I'm not nauseous anymore. And friends dance together."
"Friends dance together?" I nodded, absolutely sure, and pushed myself off the bed.
"C'mon!" I held out my hand. He rolled his eyes and sighed, grudgingly taking it. But he was smiling, so I took that as a good sign.
"Okay, fine." My smile widened, and instantly, I pulled him off the bed.
There was a problem to my plan, however. And that, my friends, were my high heeled shoes. I didn't waste another minute thinking about them. One hand went to Al's shoulder, to support myself; the other reached for my raised foot, trying to unclasp my shoe so I could slip it off.
I think it's already been established that I have no sense of balance.
Well, as it turns out, neither does Albus.
We tumbled to the ground, but that didn't deter me. I continued to fiddle with my shoe until I undid the clasp. I am thankful that I was still drunk enough not to care that I was all but on top of Al.
"Merlin, Campbell!" He pushed me off him gently and I began to laugh. Albus soon joined me. Finally, I slipped my shoe off and threw it across the room.
"Help me with the other one," I insisted, squirming about to get to my other shoe. We may not have been on top of each other anymore, but our limbs were still tangled, and this made getting to my shoe almost impossible. Al reached out played with the strap of my shoes. When he finally got it off, he threw across the room to join its friend. I continued to laugh, as Al began to sit up and extricate himself from me. The whole situation seemed so ridiculous to me. He stood up and picked me up off the ground, placing me on my feet still laughing. Without my heels on, the height difference between us was clearer. I stood at five foot five but Al was clearly over six feet.
"Well, shall we?" He took my hand and placed it on his shoulder, before clasping the other with his. His other hand settled on my waist.
"Seriously, Potter? This isn't the 1800s."
"Just…follow my lead."
We danced. I imagine to anyone else, the picture looked incredibly incongruous: us waltzing to the dance club music playing in the common room. But the longer we moved, the more fun I had. It was silly and innocent and sweet. It was nice not to have a dance that was all grinding and flirting and touching and sex. Albus Potter was a gentleman and it was good to know that there was a guy out there that wouldn't take advantage of my less than sober state.
When the song changed, so did our dance. From waltzing, we switched to swing dancing. But as he twirled me, the tear in my skirt pulled, making a slit that went all the way up to my hips and flashed poor Potter my knickers. He blushed. I laughed.
"Can I borrow a t-shirt or something?"
"Yeah, sure." Once more, Al was sorting through his trunk, this time looking for something for me to wear. "Here," he tossed me a Weird Sister's band t-shirt and stood up.
"Thanks." Without thinking, I reached behind me and unzipped my dress, shrugged it off my shoulders and let it drop to the floor.
"Marian! What are you doing?" The boy flushed further and quickly covered his eyes with his hands.
"What, Potter, never seen a girl in her knickers before?" I slipped the t-shirt over my head. It settled high on my thighs. To be honest, it covered less than my dress, but at least my knickers weren't showing. "There, I'm covered. You can look now." He lowered his hand only to bring it back up.
"Merlin, no you're not! Let me get you some pants or something." I laughed. Al was adorable when flustered. He went back to his trunk, determined to get me something to cover my legs. I rolled my eyes, but was amused. But while he dug through his trunk, I began to think.
Sometimes, I can be a bit evil. Sometimes, an idea gets a hold of me and I just can't let it go. Sometimes, I like to screw with people, just for the fun of it. Sometimes, I wonder if I would have been better off in Slytherin.
And in that moment, I was determined to get Albus Potter to kiss me.
I took a step forward, effectively invading Al's personal space. Dragging my finger slowly down his chest, I tilted my head upwards and smiled at him.
"Does my state of undress bother you?" I spoke softly, trying to make my voice breathless. "You know, most guys would be chomping at the bit to have a girl, dressed in one of their t-shirts and not much else, alone with them in their dormitory." He visibly gulped.
"I'm not most guys," he finally said. I wanted to smack him upside the head. Most boys would have seen that invitation for what it was.
"No, no you're not. You're definitely, definitely not." I glanced at the floor for a moment, before flicking my gaze back upwards. I was trying to appear coquettish. Then I stood up on my tippy toes so I could whisper in his ear. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For not being one of those guys." I fell back down to my normal height, but I reached up caressed the side of his face.
It was time for my secret weapon. Just one last step and then I knew the game would be won.
I bit my lip.
There was an intensity that flashed in Al's eyes before he shook his head, and took a giant step away from me. Nervously he ran a hand through his hair.
I stopped biting my lip as my mouth fell open with shock.
Seriously? Seriously?
Dear Merlin and Morgana, what does a girl have to do to get Albus Potter to kiss her?
He was fidgeting now, beginning to pace a bit. This wasn't going to work if he wasn't paying attention to me. I reached for his arm and pulled him closer to me. I laced my fingers through his and squeezed lightly. I bit my lip again, but Al was already looking to my left.
"The party's probably going to wind down soon. It's getting late. If you want, I can walk you back to the Hufflepuff common room. Or you can stay here. I don't mind sleeping on the floor."
"I don't want you to sleep on the floor." I was giving it another shot. Perhaps I had just been too subtle. Boys don't do well with subtlety. I was going to have to make this a little more obvious. I reached up and toyed with the collar of his shirt and looked at him from under my lashes. I might have even given them a little flutter.
"Then I'll walk you to Hufflepuff."
"Now, why would you do a thing like that? I don't mind staying here."
"I don't understand. I mean, I guess we could share the bed, but it's not that big and it wouldn't be comfortable for either of us. Really, it would be better if you let me walk you back to your common room. Scorpius would kill me if he knew I just let you go. Or if you don't feel up to going back, I really don't mind sleeping on the floor." I sighed heavily, my sweet, bashful expression changing to one of exasperation. I put my hand on my hip and cocked my head to the side.
"Al," I said curtly. He jumped slightly at my tone. Christ, this boy was skittish.
"Yeah?"
"Would you just bloody kiss me already?" Yup. Not subtle at all. Pretty blunt if you ask me.
"Oh."
"Yes."
"Oh," he said again. He still didn't make a move.
"Okay, that's it." I grabbed his shirt and pulled him to me, smashing my lips to his. When I closed my eyes, furthering the kiss, his eyes were still open and stunned. But eventually, I coaxed his lips to moving against mine. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me close as I let go of his shirt and encircled his neck. We stumbled to the bed, still entangled with one another, lips moving frantically, limbs moving frantically.
Clothes came off. Rather quickly, I might add. Al may have been slow to figure out what I wanted, but once I had spelled it out for him, he didn't hesitate in the slightest.
A lady never kisses and tells.
I'm no lady, but I do have some standards. So you're not going to get the details.
But since you're all wondering, yes Al Potter is a fabulous kisser.
It was the wee hours of the morning when I woke up, still wrapped up in Albus Potter. Snores filled the boys' dormitory, indicating that we were no longer alone; but luckily, we'd had the presence of mind to close the hangings last night before everyone came up. My head ached a little bit and my mouth was dry, but considering how much I'd had to drink the night before, I was pretty well off. Al was asleep next to me and I blushed.
Oh God.
In the harsh light of morning, all I could feel was regret. Fortunately (or unfortunately, I wasn't quite sure), I wasn't drunk enough when it happened to have blacked out. I remembered everything.
Merlin, I was an awful person. What had possessed me to… play with a person like that, let alone a person as good as Albus Potter.
And then on top of the regret fell a wave of shame and I winced. In his sleep, Al snuggled closer to me and I thought, in that moment, I might actually be sick. Carefully, I lifted his arm from around my waist and slipped out from underneath his hold. Gently placing his arm back on the bed, I sat up slowly and peeked out from behind the hangings. Luckily when we…got it on last night, we didn't throw our clothes everywhere. My bra and panties were at the bottom of the bed. Al's t-shirt was next to my dress on the floor.
Oh, that wasn't good. I hoped that the boys were too drunk when they stumbled in to notice my torn dress on the floor. I ducked back behind the hangings once more. Grabbing my underclothes, I slipped them on slowly, so as not to disturb Al. I stood up and slipped out, closing the hangings behind me. I picked up Al's t-shirt and slipped it over my head once more, blushing profusely when I recalled Al taking it off me hours before. I picked up my dress too. In the dark, I couldn't make out where my black shoes were; I abandoned them. Besides, shoes were easier to explain away than a dress.
Without looking back, I quietly made my way to the door and exited the Slytherin Boys' Dormitory. No one stirred as I made my hasty get away. I came across no one in the halls on my way back to Hufflepuff, thank Merlin, Christ, and God. And no one arose when I sneaked back into the Girls' Dormitory. I slipped into bed, but I didn't fall back asleep. As I laid there, a new emotion mixed with the toxic combination of regret and shame: guilt.
I know you're judging me, just a slight bit.
But I did warn you at the beginning: I am anything but a saint.
A/N: Now, I had no intention of starting anything new. But this idea came about when I was talking to solitaireclay07 about things that annoyed us in fanfiction. And then the plot bunny grew and grew to the point where I couldn't ignore it anymore. This is not meant to be an epically long fic. There are going to be 10 chapters and I doubt most of them will be as long as this one.
So I'm just going to say it. This fic deals with abortion. If you are uncomfortable with this issue, turn back now. And just in case you didn't read the note at the beginning, I'm going to repeat myself: please keep your opinions to yourself.
Thank you for reading and if you'd like to leave a review on your way out, I'd appreciate it. If this story garners any interest, I'll likely continue with it as soon as possible.
NaP