A/N: Greetings all TBWITches! Here we have the frat party everyoneeeee has been waiting for. Welcome to chapter seven! Shenanigans and Wiccan holiday festivities ensue. Shit is starting to go DOWN in the first instalment of the two-parter I've been itching to write since I started this fic. Bout time we got back on that plot-line grind, none of that filler nonsense, yeah? Like, can you say HECTIC? And since it's vital to the plot-line that Kyle remains relatively not-dead, Madison does not get raped and as a result never flips the bus. Sorry not sorry. I hate writing rape scenes, they make me sad for days. But I digress – enjoy chapter seven, because it gets a little cheeky at Miss Robichaux's and beyond. Say hello to not-dead Charlie as a frat boy! And as per the guest request in my inbox, hilarity ensues. Because Zoe is totally giving Madison a run for her money, the seductress.


Violet Harmon

Violet jolted awake in Kyle's arms at the harsh crashing of cymbals that came from his phone.

"For God's sake, Kyle, get a nicer ringtone," she complained, smacking his arm when he laughed at her overreaction.

The blonde boy reached over her petite body to the other side of his bed and swiped to receive the call.

"What's up? Yeah, it's Kyle. Get fucking caller ID, dude. Yeah, okay. I'll bring my girlfriend. Yeah, cool. What time?"

Violet listened curiously to the conversation, chewing her lip slowly, deliberately, as he watched her flirtatious antics with a growing grin. She liked to torture him.

"Oh, sure. Well... fuck, Violet, you're distracting me... Sorry, that was her. I've got a school dinner man, I can't just skip out without at least twelve hour's notice. Hell no! Fine, fine, seven o'clock. Sweet. Alright, I'll see you there. Yeah, love you too brother. I'm hanging up now."

She rolled her eyes at his fraternity habits, asking herself why she even bothered with a frat boy if not for his looks and talent for making magic with his bare hands. Violet chuckled to herself at that last thought.

When she finally found Madison, the movie star was lounging by the backyard pool with Zoe, both in scandalisingly sized bikinis unsuitable for the fall weather, chatting with surprising enthusiasm about upper class culture and all the conventions they'd both had to appear at.

"No seriously," Madison snorted through bouts of laughter, "I was just sitting there with my dad, trying to text my boyfriend under the table and this guy just stands up, takes all his clothes off and runs towards us at like full speed."

"Holy shit, no way!"

"Yeah, I mean – fuck – this son of a bitch was so determined to, like, show us his night stick. And I was only twelve at the time."

"That's fucked up, man. Did they lock him up with all the child molesters for a night?"

"Don't know, don't care. Oh, hey Violet," Madison chirped, raising her strawberry-sugar-coated cocktail glass of what looked like orange juice in acknowledgement.

Violet waved slowly, confused. Since when does Madison Montgomery talk to Zoe? she asked herself.

"I've just been chilling with your girl here, turns out she's pretty rad. You might've been onto something the other day," the blonde celebrity continued with a wink, leaving Zoe confused as to what Madison was referring to.

"Uh, yeah..." Violet replied uncertainly in an effort not to raise suspicion, "anyway, there's a frat party tonight, Kappa Lambda Gamma. We're all invited."

"Huh," Zoe grunted.

"Well, he invited me, and I'm inviting the rest of you," she corrected herself, "but he should be down with it. Frat boys are all about that 'the more the merrier' life."

Madison nodded, having a solid understanding of the fraternity/sorority lifestyle.

"What time should we be there?" Madison asked, frowning at the state of her cuticles.

"Seven-thirty."

Zoe rolled her eyes at Violet's response and said, "She means it starts at seven. Violet's got this goddamn awful rule about always being exactly thirty minutes late to parties, and at least one hour late to important shit."

"Well, who'd have known," Madison stated, words saturated in sarcasm, "our little shrinking Violet has wannabe tendencies. We'll be there at a quarter to seven. The party starts when we say it does, and I'm bored."

Zoe and Violet shared a knowing smile.


Cordelia Foxx

"Okay ladies, it's been fun having our little family dinner tonight, but it's time to plan for this year's Samhain celebration. Hands up if you say death to the bonfire?"

Birds chirped in the silence that followed. No one wanted to break the sacred tradition of the bonfire for the sake of keeping it 'fresh'.

"What time do Sabbats start anyway?" Violet asked from her position in Kyle's lap, fingers dancing idly across his collarbones.

Zoe held in a snort of derision.

"Sabbats begin at sundown on the eve of the celebration. News flash, Vi – that's today. The eve of All Hallow's Eve," her friend explained, blushing as Kyle winked at her.

Cordelia coughed beneath a delicate hand and addressed Violet directly.

"Miss Harmon, should you choose to listen to Myrtle's teachings, I'm sure you'd be able to take note of the basic festivity rituals. You know, the kind that everyone here learns on their first day."

Everyone chose the polite route of ignoring the disappointed frown the headmistress gave Violet across the table.

The legacy witch remained oblivious to Cordelia's condescending tone and continued to cause verbal damage.

"We're not going to your precious sah-ween hoo-ha anyway. There's a frat party downtown that is calling my name. Literally. From the guest list, which they use to stop gate-crashers and party-poopers alike," Violet added, staring at her headmistress pointedly at the phrase 'party-poopers'.

Nan tutted sideways at her.

"You shouldn't have said that," the second-year warned, "The daughter of the Supreme takes Sabbats very seriously."

"How seriously?" Violet enquired.

Queenie looked at her and Kyle grimly across the dining table, licked her lips and replied, "The observation of all the Sabbats and all the Esbats are compulsory in this coven. No ands, ifs or buts. Except for Romeo over here, he gets as many butts as he likes."

Madison and the human voodoo doll smirked at each other.

"Enough, ladies," Cordelia interrupted. "I certainly don't have a problem with you attending parties – frankly, I'm glad Zoe is getting out of the house."

She winked subtly at her underdog student.

"But Queenie is correct. Samhain is our New Year's Eve, attendance at a celebration of some kind is compulsory."

Madison's carefully-lined eyes flew wide and round in realisation, inflating like balloons.

"What is it, Clara Oswald?" Violet quipped, her precious reference met with dull confusion.

"I – well I don't know who the fuck that's meant to be, Vi. Anyway, like you said Foxx, we have to celebrate. Correct?"

Cordelia nodded sharply in a display of adamance.

"Because I don't know about you," Madison continued slyly, berry lips quirking at the corners, "but I'd call a frat party one hell of a celebration."

The headmistress considered it for a moment before shaking her head.

"No, no, it's a frat party, for Goddess' sake. This is a sacred ritual! I won't have you carving pentacles into some poor adolescent's wall."

Her statement was followed by confused silence.

"Well... not that we actually do that kind of thing..." she clarified somewhat nervously, "but anyway, we still need to treat the occasion with respect."

"And we will!" Madison insisted, her Diana Ferrari boots beginning to jiggle in irritation. "I swear, lady, we'll celebrate it. We'll set some shit on fire, cast a couple of good luck spells for each other and get completely off our faces. Sound like a plan?"

Cordelia's mouth set into a firm line, but she nodded her consent.

"On one condition, Montgomery. Don't make me go with you."

Zoe and Violet snickered quietly.

"What?" the teacher asked earnestly. "I don't want a hangover when I'm casting protection spells."

"Don't worry, you're not invited," the celebrity assured her patronisingly.

"There is actually such a thing as being too old to party, and you, Missus Foxx, are the epitome of that colloquial."

Cordelia would have been insulted if she wasn't so impressed at Madison's ironic choice of words.

"Alright, alright, I'll go out with Hank and my mother can go find herself some boy toy at the bar to spend the night with. Don't get into too much trouble, girls. And that includes you Kyle."

The former fraternity boy grinned widely.


Madison Montgomery

Everything Ke$ha claimed in her hit debut 'Tik Tok' was true. The party didn't start until Madison Montgomery walked in.

"Oh my God, is that-"

"It is!"

"Hey Madison!"

"Holy-"

"I know right-"

"-she hasn't made a movie in years-"

"Haven't seen her since-"

"It's Madison Montgomery everyone!"

Cheers and nervous giggles erupted around her as she picked up a red cup and held it out impatiently.

"What's a girl gotta do to get a drink around here?" she broadcasted in all her usual apathy, sticking out her hip with her signature smirk.

"Nothing, nothing at all," breathed a timid girl who immediately rushed up to Madison and led her by the hand onto the dance floor.

Zoe and Violet bit their lips simultaneously, both suddenly unsure how to carry themselves in her absence.

The Harmon legacy shook herself out of her reverie first, as expected from the rougher of the serial fakers.

"Come on, Zoe," Violet muttered, taking her best friend's hand, "We've got boys to tease and blunts to share."

A grin spread itself across Zoe's face.

"Lead the way, Vi."


Zoe Benson

A bass-heavy remix of Iggy Azalea's ubiquitous hit song 'Fancy' blared throughout the fraternity house as the girls bid temporary goodbyes to an uncomfortable Queenie and a sullen Nan, leaving in search of a good night's fun.

"Hey, I'm going to find Kyle, okay? I'll be back soon," Violet yelled over the music as she fished one of the aforementioned blunts on her out of her pocket and lit up.

"Okay, have fun!" Zoe replied, tucking her hands into the pockets of her conservative vintage black dress, pushing away the heavy silk with an air of hidden irritation.

What kind of bitch proclaims they'll party with you and ditches you straight after? she fumed to herself.

Once Violet was out of sight, she ripped off the tear-away skirt of her dress to reveal the borderline scandalous hem of a figure-hugging dress. She was more than vaguely reminiscent of Madison Montgomery as she kicked off her classy patent black leather flats in favour of the tallest pair of nude Kenji stilettos she owned, strutting back towards the source of the mainstream music with a point to prove and a tight teenage body to move.

Zoe hadn't made it ten feet down the ambiently lit hallway, raucous music fading into the distance, before a grinning college boy appeared before her. She regarded him carefully, and decided he was pretty hot. Anyone who wore the hell out of his beer-stained Kappa Lambda Gamma shirt like that had to be seriously distracting in terms of looks. Leaning against the wall, she pulled out a cigarette and lit it with exaggerated movements. Closing her eyes slowly and taking a long drag from its filter, she listened to the satisfying catch of breath in the boy's throat as she snapped the cap of her lighter shut.


Charlie

"What's your name?" Zoe stage-whispered to him, slipping further into the shadows of the space, feeling ridiculous and powerful at the same time.

"I'm – I'm Charlie," the frat boy stuttered, uncertain words in contrast to his lascivious eyes that drank her in.

She revelled in his attentions, flashing briefly to the thought of Kit's eyes on her.

"Well, Charlie, I like my whisky on the rocks."

He nodded with a silly grin and all but ran to find her the pretentious drink, only to return to an empty hallway.

"Goddammit," he muttered under his breath.

When Charlie returned to the dance hall, trying to lose himself in the crowd and his own humiliation, he saw her. Zoe was bouncing in her heels, skating towards and away from a boy he recognised as his former best friend Kyle, who was obviously already drunk and trying to grind on her.

"Fuck that," he swore angrily. Girls always forgot about him when Kyle turned up.

The thought of that corn-fed Grecian god douchebag hitting it off with her made him grab an entire tray of shots off the countertop and empty them into his mouth. The alcohol soothed his irritation and replaced it with a light buzzing sensation, luring him into its comforting arms of liquid courage. He wanted Kyle to remember this, to never try to steal his catches again. A sudden realisation stopped him on his way across the dance floor – Kyle had told him he was bringing his new private school girlfriend. He'd called her Violet. Not Zoe.

"Oh shit," Charlie breathed, slurring a little on his words.

Whoever Violet was, he was going to make damn sure she didn't waste herself on Kyle's cheating ass. Through whatever means possible. Charlie had let a few go before, telling himself that his scholarship frat brother needed the chicks more than he did. But not this one. Not Zoe.

You're going to regret taking her from me, he thought vehemently. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Your girl for my girl. I'm going to deflower your precious Violet.