It was the night before Christmas Break our seventh year when I talked to James Potter for the first time. Obviously I knew he was, but our paths had never really crossed. Inter-house unity had increased for a bit after the war, but things had really gone down the shitter after the scandal that had rocked Hogwarts back in 2017 when I was only a third year. Ravenclaws and Slytherins had always generally gotten along pretty well before that, but after the scandal, things were bad for a while.

By seventh year, relations had thawed some between our two houses, but the politics of Hogwarts had completely changed. Seemingly out of nowhere, Slytherins and Gryffindors had formed an alliance. I think it probably had to do with Potter's young brother being sorted into Slytherin where he started fucking a Malfoy. Or maybe the Malfoy was fucking the Potter. I don't want to make judgements. But, those kind of things just change the landscape, you know? The whole love affair coupled with the scandal really saw Ravenclaw's name go through the mud.

Not that I cared too much. Sure, I was a Ravenclaw, but I wasn't the poster child for the house. I wasn't one of those nuts at every Quidditch match screaming their heads off or bragging about the exploits of Rowena Ravenclaw. I kept my head down and dealt with shit. That's how I had been raised after all. Hadrians stay out of trouble and let other people fuck up. It had kept the family out of Azkaban for so many generations, so I figured it should probably work for me too.

The Friday before Christmas Break though I was drunk enough to be be jumping on tables, singing "The Heart Will Go On" and quoting Luna Lovegood and Nobby Leach, two of the most famous Ravenclaws. I usually don't like getting drunk, it puts your guard down and you can let slip almost anything.

Which is why starting a conversation with James Potter was the worst idea you could imagine. See, when your family runs one of the biggest crime syndicates in Europe it is generally a good idea to not talk to a guy whose father is the Head of the Auror Office, whose mum is a well respected reporter, and whose aunt is the bleeding Minister for Magic. To be fair though, it wasn't exactly a secret what my family did – it was just that no one had any proof. Remember, keep your head down and let other people fuck up.

But, it probably wasn't the best of ideas to start talking to Potter when he came up to me at the bar.

"So, Hadrian, come here often?" a voice behind me asked.

I was leaning against the counter with my arm propping up my face. I was, I admit, sticking my boobs out in an attempt to look sexy. There was a hot redhead over standing a couple of meters away and I was trying to make eye contact. At the sound of the male voice though, I lifted my body up and turned to face my new suitor.

"Does that ever work?" I asked snidely before I noticed who was asking me the question.

I realized that Potter also noticed who I was when we made eye contact and he muttered "fuck" under his breath.

We stood there in awkward silence for a few seconds, not quite sure what the protocol was in the situation. The rest of the party continued around us, thumping bass music and drunk white girls getting much too excited about muggle songs.

After a few beats, I shrugged and decided to let the alcohol guide me. I rarely indulged my id, and I felt that now was as good of a time as any.

"Only on Weird Friday," I said, smirking.

Potter relaxed slightly. "As good of a time as any, I guess."

Still smirking, I took a swig of my butterbeer as he made some motion to the poor Hufflepuff who was tending the bar. Puffs always ended up tending up the bar and remaining sober throughout the night because they were such good moms.

"Was that you trying to get the attention of that Puff?"

"Clearly," he replied, not quite sure where the conversation was going.

"You have to be more aggressive than that," I said decidedly. "It's a party and it's Weird Friday. There's only one way to get the attention of whoever is serving drinks."

I turned back to the bar, keeping an eye on Potter, and touched the Puff slightly who's walking by behind the counter. He turned to me, about to snap, but then he noticed my boobs that are are barely contained in my tight shirt.

He stuttered for a second as I smiled at him. I gave him that second and I said "Can I have another one?" as I shook my empty mug of butterbeer.

He nodded hurriedly and rushed away. I turned triumphantly to Potter who's scowling at me.

"You used an enlarging charm."

I shrugged. "I want my butterbeer."

He laughed briefly before taking a drink of his cocktail. He tipped it back, finishing off the last bits, but I felt his eyes on me.

The Puff returned with my butterbeer and slid it to me. I winked at him and turned away from the bar, taking in the sight of the party. I sensed rather than saw Potter do the same.

"So what are you doing over Break?" he asked.

I raised my eyebrow a bit. We're doing small talk now?

He saw that I looked slightly taken aback, but didn't seem to care. So, he answered his own question. "It's a lot of family time for us. Spend Christmas morning with my parents and siblings before going to my grandparents' house for dinner."

For some reason, I replied, "Pretty much the same. It's the only time really my parents' families get together."

He looked interested. Shit. I forgot that my mum's side of of the family was involved with the family business too.

"I mean, not that it's anything special. Just your normal dinner. A roast prepared by the house-elves. Pudding. Boring stories by all the oldies. It's good craic. Can't go wrong "

Fuck. I was babbling. I paused from my rant and looked accusingly down at my drink.

To my surprise though, Potter interrupted me. "I don't care."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm sick of it."

This conversation kept getting more and more unexpected.

"I'm sick of being a Potter. I don't care what your family does."

That really shut me up.

He kept going. "I don't care that Aunt Hermione is Minister for Magic. I just want to be a normal teenager who talks to girls at bars and who doesn't have to worry if the girl he's trying to hook up with is going to kidnap him to use as ransom."

I laughed at that and he glared at me. I sobered up, realizing he wasn't kidding. That was actually good to know that I had the reputation. I pushed the thought away and filed it away for later.

I opened my mouth to speak, but then thought better of it. This seemed like something that he should deal with by himself. It really was not my wheelhouse. I let him keep speaking.

He continued ranting. I got bored of listening to him eventually and zoned out for a few moments. Still making it seem like I was paying attention to him, I looked around the party. It was about that time in the night when everyone was either breaking up into couples or leaving. If I didn't hurry up and end this conversation soon, we'd end up surrounded by drunk and horny teenagers and I did not want that.

But, then I saw Addison across the room, who was dancing with some girl and engaged in an obnoxious snogging session. Furious, I took Potter's arm aggressively and put my other hand behind his neck. Before I knew what I was doing, I pulled his head down to mine and started making out with him obnoxiously.

I would regret it tomorrow, but if it had the chance of making Addison jealous, it was worth it.