"One Night Stand"
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and elements from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K. Rowling.
Muggle alcohol was more potent than most wizards gave it credit for. The room started spinning soon after Alicia Spinnet finished her third glass of something called "Absolut Vodka." Maybe someone should have explained to her that one did not drink alcohol from regular sized glasses, or that one did not drink so much in such a short time span. But all of Alicia's friends were too busy experimenting with other muggle substances to warn her of anything.
Roger Davies knew how to throw a party. It was the first weekend since their class had left Hogwarts, and almost everyone had attended Roger's party. His current girlfriend, a muggle-born witch, was responsible for the vast quantities of barely legal, semi-legal and downright illegal muggle drinks and pills being offered at the party. Alicia thought she'd chosen the safest option, but she now realized it was safe only in relative terms. She stumbled over to a big, leather upholstered couch and sat down, the world still twirling around her in barely coherent shapes. She noticed the Weasley twins dancing wildly around the room only because of their bright red hair.
"Spinnet."
Alicia turned her head as someone sat beside her and said her name. She peered at the shape for a moment before identifying it as Miles Bletchley, former Slytherin Quidditch Keeper.
"Bletchley," she said in a less than friendly tone, raising one hand to smooth her eyebrows. She still hadn't forgotten or forgiven him for jinxing her before the last Gryffindor-Slytherin game. She thought he was grinning, but she couldn't be sure this far away. Bletchley was sitting right beside her, so she leaned towards him until their faces were inches apart. "Are you laughing at me, Bletchley?"
"Wouldn't dream of it, Spinnet," he replied. He had nice lips, why hadn't she ever noticed that before? Alicia reached out to trace his lips with her fingertip. He bit her finger lightly. "Are you coming on to me?"
"On you?" The words puzzled Alicia for a moment. It seemed like all the heat from the vodka had settled between her legs, and Alicia was thinking about how good it'd feel to straddle Bletchley and press herself against him. Yes, on him sounded like a good place to be. Alicia climbed on top of him, her knees on either side of his legs.
"I don't believe it," Miles murmured, looking around the room. "Where's a photographer when you need one?" Alicia's breasts were grazing his chest and she seemed to be deliberately rubbing herself against him. Like any good Slytherin, Miles seized the opportunity that had quite unexpectedly but pleasantly presented itself. "Hey, Spinnet, want to go find Davies's guest room?"
She started nibbling his earlobe in response. That was a good enough answer for Miles. He put his hands around Alicia's waist and stood carefully. Alicia wrapped her legs around his waist and threw her arms around his neck. It would have reminded Miles of carrying his toddler cousin, except his cousin had never stuck his tongue in his ear.
"Down the hall, to the right," Roger said, barely looking at Miles as he passed him.
Miles followed his direction to a small bedroom. Judging from the rumpled sheets on the bed, they were not the first couple to seek it out. He put Alicia down, or tried to - it took a couple of minutes to pry her off him, and he ended up keeping one arm around her waist to prevent her from falling over. Looking at the bed in disgust, he took out his wand and muttered, "Scourgify."
That was better. There was a spell to make the bed neaten its sheets, but he couldn't remember it. He set Alicia down on the bed, where she collasped into giggles, and placed his wand on the night table beside the bed. He quickly removed his clothes and left them in a pile on the floor.
Alicia had propped herself up on her elbows and watched him walk towards her. "Oh, you're hot!"
"Thank you," he said wryly, as he reached forher and began removing her boots.
"But you're a Slytherin. You shouldn't be hot, you should look like a troll." She pouted before starting to giggle again.
"And you Gryffindors can't hold your liquor," Miles said, as he peeled her jeans down her legs. Her underwear quickly joined her jeans on the floor. Getting her simple tank top off was harder than it should have been because she kept wriggling around. He was trying to unhook her bra when she pulled him on top of her and kissed him. It wasn't as sloppy as he'd have expected from someone as drunk as Alicia was right now. In fact, as she gently nibbled on his lower lip, he thought it was a pretty damn good kiss.
"Aha!" He said triumphantly, as he finally managed to get her bra off. Alicia giggled before sinking her teeth into his neck. Miles yelped; that bite would leave a nasty bruise in the morning.
"I thought Slytherins liked to play rough," Alicia mumbled, her hands trailing down his body.
Miles carefully removed her hand from around his most prized body part.
"Be nice, Spinnet." To be on the safe side, he pinned her hands above her head.
She arched her back and wrapped her legs around him. "I'm waiting, Bletchley."
Miles was happy to oblige her, grinnning as she made sounds very similar to a contented cat. He was so lost in the sensation of Alicia around him, it took him a while to notice she had stopped stroking his hair and making those cute sounds. He looked down at her and swore. She'd fallen alseep. His enthusiasm flagged...how could she? Girls had moaned, girls had screamed, girls had whispered filthy things in his ears; girls had never fallen asleep like this. Miles rolled off her and stretched out beside her. He could go home, or go back to the party and find another girl, but Spinnet owed him when she woke up. He reached for the covers and pulled it over them both.
Alicia opened her eyes, then immediately closed them again. Oh, the light, the wretched sunlight felt like pins being driven into her brain. This must be what the Cruciatus curse feels like. And her stomach, gods, she'd never before felt this nauseous in her life. Groaning, she forced herself to open her eyes and sit up. She shoved the muscular arm that had been around her waist away, then froze. Slowly, the nausea building, she turned her head to look at the man beside her. Miles Bletchley. How in Godric Gryffindor's name did she end up in bed, naked, with Bletchley of all people?
"Godric, no!" She muttered as memories of drinking glass after glass of muggle alcohol flooded her thoughts. She winced at the memory of crawling into Bletchley's lap, then winced again as the pain in her head increased.
"Bletchley," she said sharply, poking him in the ribs. He didn't stir, so she grabbed his chin and shook his head. "Awake up."
"What? Oh. Spinnet." He pushed her hand away and sat up.
"Is that all you have to say? 'Oh Spinnet' That's it?" Alicia wasn't screaming only because she was certain it'd make her headache worse.
"You owe me for last night," he said.
"What?" Alicia stared at him, not certain which implication was more shocking: that he was a prostitute or that she'd paid him for sex.
"How could you? I have a reputation to uphold you know," he continued.
Alicia frowned, completely puzzled. "I'm not paying you."
"Paying me? What the hell are you talking about?" He asked, looking as confused as she felt.
"I'm not paying you for something I don't even remember. Plus, I'm sure I'd never solicit a...a professional. I don't need to, lots of guys want me." Bletchley was staring at her like she'd grown as second head. "You know," she said, "I know you don't have what it takes to be a professional Quidditch player and your N.E.W.T. scores were dissmal, but I never thought you'd turn to prostitution."
Bletchley laughed. He laughed so hard he fell back on the bed and thumped it with his fist.
"Oh, you think..." He started to say something but ended up laughing louder.
Alicia glared at him. Remembering the state she was in, she clutched the covers to her chest and got out of the bed. Unfortunately, wrapping herself in the sheet meant that Bletchley was completely exposed. Not that she was looking at him or anything, but she couldn't help noticing that he was quite favorably endowed. Spying her clothes on the floor, Alicia picked them up. Now she was faced with the dilemna of trying to get dressed while holding up the bedsheet.
"Oh, Spinnet, you're priceless," Bletchley said, finally having gotten his laughter under control. He was grinning and Alicia really was much too annoyed to notice how good he looked when he wasn't sneering, smirking, or trying to hex her. Really, she didn't notice at all.
"I assure you that if I do one day turn to the most ancient and unesteemed profession, you'll be the first person I solicit." He paused to press his lips together as another round of laughter threatened to break out. "I meant you owe me for falling alseep last night while I was...while we were having sex."
"I fell alseep during it? You must not be very good then," Alicia said, glancing around the room to see if there was an adjoining bathroom.
Bletchley gave her an indignant look. "It's not my fault you were stupid enough to drink so much."
"If I hadn't drank so much, I wouldn't have...ended up here with you," Alicia retorted.
"Anyway," Bletchley said, "It'll ruin my reputation. You have to give me another chance."
"I am going to get dressed and go home. That's all I'm going to do now." Figuring he'd already seen her naked anyway, Alicia dropped the sheet and began pulling on her clothes as quickly as she could.
"Good thinking," he said, "Morning breath and all that. I'll meet you tonight at the Leaky Cauldron. Or I can just come over to your place at eight."
Alicia zipped up her jeans. "No, you misunderstand me, Bletchley. I am not going to sleep with you ever again. You can rest easy about your reputation, believe me, the last thing I want is for anyone to find out about this."
Unfortunately, at that very moment, someone began banging on the door. "Hey, you in there, get out of my house!"
Roger had stopped playing the charming host when he woke up and found his furniture damaged and his plants dead. Not to mention finding a handful of people passed out throughout his house.
Bletchley jumped out of bed and began putting on his clothes. "Are you sure?" He whispered to Alicia. "Don't you want to know what you missed last night?"
"I'll spend my life regretting missing out on the magnificent sexual performance that is a night with Miles Bletchley," Alicia said sarcastically. "But somhow I'll manage."
"You were purring, you know," he said.
Alicia closed her eyes and swore silently. George did used to say that she sounded like a cat. Bletchley was one of the last men on earth she wanted knowing that intimate fact.
"Shut up," she hissed. "If you bring this up one more time, or tell anyone, I'll tell them you were so bad that I fell asleep. It's the truth too."
"Have it your way, Spinnet," he said. Thenhe pointed his wand at himself and disapparated.
Alicia realized that she didn't have her wand with her. Mentally cursing herself and vowing never to drink a drop of alcohol again, she began searching the room. It wasn't there. Opening the door, she took a deep breath and left the room. Thankfully, she didn't encounter anyone else, though she heard Roger yelling from somehere in the house. She sighed with relief as she finally found her wand buried between the cushions of the couch she'd been sitting in last night. She apparated home, straight to her bathroom, and took a hot shower. She assured herself she was only washing Bletchley's germs off as she recalled the memories she did have of the previous night.
The End
Author's Note: This is an answer to my own fan fic challenge of writing a story featuring a member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team waking up with a hangover next to a member of the Slytherin team. I didn't plan it, it just sort of started writing itself one mid-day. That's highly unusual, considering that the vast majority of my writing is done late at night. Anyway, if anyone wants to write a sequel, feel free to do so. Just remember to send me a copy or a link to it.