Chapter 29
Complication #29: Feelings can arise at the most inconvenient of times.
The morning I send my application off to the Auror Office is the same day that I get a package in the mail from Diana. I don't have to open it to know that it's exactly what I asked her to get for me. I do, however, have to keep my friends from trying to open it themselves at breakfast.
"What's in the box?" Fred asks, peeking at it as I stuff it into my bag.
"None of your business."
"Aw, come on, open it! What's the point of getting mail delivered in the middle of breakfast if you don't open it in front of everyone?" he insists.
"Some mail isn't meant to be opened in the Great Hall," I say simply. I realize afterwards that the implication of that sounds totally different than what I intended.
"Are you suggesting that you just got lingerie delivered to Hogwarts? Because I had no idea your love life had taken such a sordid turn lately, Abby!" Fred places his hand over his heart in mock surprise.
If only he knew how often I've been snogging his cousin lately.
"Mind out of the gutter, Freddy." I swat his arm for good measure.
"It never leaves," he reassures me.
"A fact you've made brutally honest to all of us," Caroline chimes in from her seat on the other side of Fred.
Of all the new people I've introduced Caroline to, Freddy is surprisingly the one she's clicked the most with. His dumb, childish sense of humour mixes well with her dry, sarcastic one – a combination that shouldn't go well together but somehow does.
They spent the entirety of the Hufflepuff/Slytherin match throwing witty remarks back and forth and – much to Fred and James' delight – Caroline even admitted she enjoyed the match afterwards.
"So onto a topic that mixes slightly better with the fact that I'm trying to enjoy my breakfast," Dom interjects, "are you guys all set for the party tomorrow?"
"Of course we are," James replies. "You should know better than anyone that we take our roles as the party planners of Hogwarts very seriously."
Amelie rolls her eyes at James' comment. "You literally have a room that does all the set-up for you – the only thing you're responsible for is sneaking in the alcohol."
"And that's a very serious responsibility," Simon confirms.
"Whatever you say."
Since three Ravenclaws outnumbers two Hufflepuffs, Molly and Amelie come to our dormitory to get ready for the party. I notice that Scarlett and Brooke are nowhere to be seen; odd, because even given our resentment of the Fits, we never missed one of their parties.
Dom wears a sparkly black tank top and black skinny jeans, and her legs look about 10 miles long. Our 3-inch height difference has never felt as obvious as it does right now. She's easily dressed the fanciest out of all of us; it's really the sparkles that do it.
I pick out a black swishy skirt and a cropped dark green jumper with a wide neckline. The most important aspect of my outfit, however, lies in the black lace straps visible on my shoulders. I've swapped my normal bra out for a thin, lacy one – something I can pull off since I'm a bit on the smaller-chested side and something I'm positive James will appreciate it when we inevitably end up snogging at some point tonight.
I also grab James' gift before we leave, throwing it into a purse with an Undetectable Extension Charm on it.
We get to the party right when it starts, although Caroline grumbles a little bit about getting there so early. Like me, she's accustomed to showing up to parties at least 10 minutes late.
As a result, the only people there are the four boys, setting up the bar. Although it's not so much "setting up" as it is all of them throwing the alcohol on a counter and immediately taking shots.
I roll my eyes before joining them for a round.
It doesn't take long for the party to pick up after that, and soon the room is packed. Music is blasting and a bunch of people are already dancing like crazy. It's amazing how fast Firewhiskey kicks in.
I find James on one of the couches, drinking a butterbeer with an uncharacteristic slowness. I'm a bit surprised he's not drunk already, because that's usually his modus operandi at events like this. Louis and Simon are on the other end of said couch, and Fred's sitting nearby in an armchair.
"I have something for you," I tell James as I sit in the small amount of space next to him.
He raises his eyebrows. "You do?"
I nod, reaching into my bag and producing his gift. I'd charmed the original box to be dark blue, with a light blue bow on top.
He stares at the packaging, and I have to nudge him to get him to move. "Open it."
And so he does, lifting the box lid to reveal an Appleby Arrows jersey.
"Wicked," he says, running his fingers across the silky fabric.
"Flip it over," I tell him.
He pulls the jersey out of the box and turns it around. "You got a Huxley one, that's fantastic – wait, what the fuck Abby!?"
He drops the jersey back onto his lap in shock. His eyes look like they're about to pop out of my head and I feel a rush of joy – I did good.
"Is – is this autographed?" he finally gets out.
"Yeah."
"But that's impossible! Huxley doesn't sign anything!"
"Not if your future stepmum's parents are family friends of his," I grin at him.
Really, I have him to thank for his own birthday present, because I never would've discovered that connection if I didn't go to Diana's parents' house for Christmas dinner.
"This is brilliant – absolutely bloody brilliant," he replies, his fingers lightly brushing over Huxley's signature. "Really, Abby, I could kiss you for this!"
He hugs me, using the opportunity to whisper in my ear, his voice deeper this time. "Scratch that, I will kiss you for this. Second corridor, first classroom on the left, 10 minutes."
I suppress a smile as he leans back. "I'm going to put this somewhere that's safe from drunk idiots," he announces to the group, before getting up and leaving.
"Abby, I think you've just made James' night," Fred tells me, taking a sip of butterbeer. "And that's saying something, because he's not even drunk yet."
"Just trying to get even for the Firebolt," I respond.
Simon chuckles. "You definitely did."
I participate in the conversation for a few more minutes, and then make my excuse to leave. "I'm going to go get another drink," I tell them.
I walk towards the drinks table, but turn away from it at the last minute and sneak out the Room of Requirement exit.
It takes all of ten seconds after I walk into the classroom for James to have me up against a wall, holding both of my hands above my head with one of his hands while the other hand plays at the bottom of my jumper.
At this point, I'm starting to think that I'm basically James' guinea pig for new snogging techniques he wants to test out, because he's constantly experimenting with different things to do with his hands and mouth. I'm a fan of this one.
His free hand starts to wander up my shirt while his tongue traces my bottom lip, and I shudder as his fingers slide across my stomach. His hand goes higher and higher up my torso until his thumb runs along the underside of my breast, separated from his touch by only a thin layer of lace.
He groans into the kiss at the contact, and I can tell that my choice of undergarments is having the exact effect on him that I'd expected it would.
"Shirt – off," he growls into my ear.
He releases my hands from above my head, and I quickly oblige him, discarding the jumper on the floor and immediately reacquainting myself with his lips again.
He backs me into a row of desks, laying me down on my back. His lips pull away from mine, but quickly attach themselves to my collarbone. He plants hot, open-mouthed kisses on my body, working his way from my neck to the lacy outline of my bralette, and then down my stomach. I instinctively arch my back to give him better access.
While his mouth is focused on my upper body, his hands slide under my skirt. I don't pay any mind to it until he reaches the hem of my knickers.
At that, I slide a finger under his chin, pulling his face away from my body while I sit up. His eyes are still smoldering, but there's a hint of confusion there as well. I wasn't sure if we'd ever hit this point, but I feel like it's important to address it now that we have.
"I know this is going to sound hypocritical given the events of earlier this year," I say, suddenly conscious of the fact that I'm not wearing a shirt as I tell him this, "but I don't want to have sex with anyone again until I'm sure it means something."
"Okay," James nods, taking a step back and pulling his hands away. He looks like he's been chastised.
"Oi, that doesn't mean I don't want you to kiss me," I smirk. "Get back here – I wasn't done with you."
He steps forward again, and his lips find mine. It's a little softer this time, like he's nervous he'll cross a line if he puts too much force into it. Merlin, I told him I didn't want to have sex, not that he needs to handle me with kid gloves. So I take control, intensifying the kiss and gripping onto the front of his shirt. It takes a moment, but he finally starts to match my intensity again.
Eventually, I pull back, and the burning look I saw in James' eyes earlier is back. "Come on, birthday boy," I say, grinning. "We've got to get you back to the party before people start thinking you've abandoned your own celebration."
"Might need a cold shower before that," he mutters.
And James' kiss has me feeling giddy, so I react to that by pulling my wand out of my skirt pocket and thinking, Aguamenti.
A jet of water shoots out from my wand, and James is instantly left spluttering and dripping wet.
"What was that for?"
I smirk. "You said you needed a cold shower, so…"
"Not what I meant," he grumbles.
I giggle at him before waving my wand again to dry him off. "Better?"
He's got a look in his eyes that I can't quite place. "You're really something else, Abby Winchester."
There's a swooping in my stomach at his words, different from what I feel when I'm about to snog him. I try not to think about what it might mean. "Head back to the Room of Requirement. I'll be there in 5 minutes, so don't take too many shots without me."
"You make it sound like my automatic reaction to walking into a party is to immediately get plastered."
"Wouldn't be the first time."
"Touché," he smirks, before walking out the door.
I'm left sitting there for the requisite 5 minutes before I head back to the party. When I re-enter the Room of Requirement, I find myself briefly musing that, even if we had showed up at the same time, we likely wouldn't arouse any suspicion. The room is dark, the music is loud, and almost everyone has a decent amount of alcohol in their systems. If we'd managed to sneak out of the start-of-term party unnoticed, it probably wouldn't have been all that difficult to sneak into this one without being seen.
But better safe than caught, I suppose.
I find James hanging around the bar. Molly and Davies are nowhere to be found, but everyone else is clustered here.
"Abby!' James says when I approach the group. "I've been looking all over for you – where'd you get off to?"
His acting skills are truly rather impressive. If Magical Law doesn't work out for him, maybe he can go into the Muggle film industry.
"Clearly you weren't looking hard enough," I shoot back, playing along. "You lot look much too sober – what kind of birthday party is this anyways?"
That's apparently all the suggestion anyone needs to digress into complete anarchy. In a matter of seconds, I'm holding a shot in each hand and taking each in quick succession.
I get the feeling it's going to be a wild night.
About an hour later, I realize that my intuition is correct. James and Fred each decided to take 18-second pulls of Firewhiskey to match their new ages, and it's been completely downhill from there. The crowds are starting to thin out, and twelve or so of us have completely taken over the small sitting area that the Room of Requirement decided to conjure.
Dom and I end up sharing an armchair, and she leans her head on my shoulder.
"Abby, do you know how long it's been since I've been properly drunk?" she asks, slurring a little.
"Since New Year's? So… a month?"
"That's entirely too long!" She throws her arms up dramatically. "We should make parties like this a weekly thing."
"We'll see if you're still saying that in the morning," Amelie reasons. Somehow, I think she's the most sober out of all of us – probably good, since she's also the only one who's any good at Healing spells and there's always a reasonable chance someone's going to get themselves hurt at one of these parties.
"I don't think we'd make it out of NEWTs alive if we did that," Molly adds.
"Leave it to the Head Girl to ruin all the fun," Dom pouts. I don't point out to her that she's a Prefect and therefore basically on the same level of fun-sucking as her cousin.
A loud burst of laughter interrupts our conversation, and I look over to see James and Fred clutching their sides with laughter. Alec and Simon, who are sitting on either side of them, look completely startled by their outburst.
"It's just," James finally manages, "have you ever really considered the bodily proportions of a Pygmy Puff?"
The rest of us all exchange a glance as the two boys continue to laugh like this is the funniest thing in the world.
"You two are actually mental," Rose says.
Scorpius is sitting next to her, and I have to wonder if he's decided to act on my advice yet.
"And very, very drunk," Caroline adds, from her place on the floor next to the chair Dom and I are on.
Once the two of them have calmed down a little, Fred forms his response. "I mean, all things considered, this is a pretty mild ending to a birthday bash for me."
"Yeah, what happened to going out with a bang, anyways?" Dom asks him, smirking.
Fred shrugs, suddently looking uncharacteristically serious. "Just wasn't really feeling it tonight, that's all."
I'm almost positive no one else sees it, but I notice Fred's eyes quickly glance at the black-haired girl leaning against my legs.
Holy mother of Merlin, alert the presses. Freddy Weasley has developed actual feelings for a girl.
Sneak peek of chapter 30…
"Abby, as wonderful of a snog as I am, snogging me is not going to solve whatever problem you're apparently trying to avoid." Arrogant git. "You need to talk about it."
I sigh. "We can talk about it later," I finally yield. "But not right now."
I can sense that he wants to argue, so I start to unbutton his shirt and kiss the area where his neck meets his shoulders.
It's enough to make him relent. "Fine."
I smirk, and continue my work of giving him a rather impressive hickey.
