A/N:

thank you to the ever-wonderful dutch (itsevanffs on ao3) for the beta on this chapter :)

also

! IMPORTANT ! IMPORTANT ! IMPORTANT !

i have edited the previous chapter. some very tiny changes throughout, and then an additional scene the very end which should be read for context's sake!

Chapter 3: Pay the Check

Events leading up to the party were awkward at best and absolutely terrible at worst. Even Bellatrix's exemplary people skills were not enough to bridge the chasm of utter dislike that existed between Harry and Dudley. Harry was used to ducking his head and dodging blows, and Dudley was used to having free rein when it came to beating Harry up.

It was unclear how far Dudley would go while Bellatrix was watching them, and so Harry decided to avoid his cousin entirely. He carried everything the girls had purchased into the house without so much as a word to either Dudley or Piers, and once that was done, he stuck close to Andromeda. She was the nicest to him out of the three sisters, and was likely the only person in this house who he didn't mind talking to, even if she had made him a bit uncomfortable earlier.

"You've never been to one of these," Andromeda stated as he approached her.

Harry checked the clock on the wall. "Never had a reason to."

"They can be fun," Andromeda allowed. "Stick to groups of people you know well, stick to dancing." She slouched against the wall and gestured to the party table. "Have a drink or two to shed those pesky inhibitions, then ditch your party cup for the night. Water is your new best friend."

"The wise words of an experienced woman," Harry said dryly.

Andromeda laughed. It was a pretty laugh, natural compared to the high-pitched titters that Harry heard whenever Bellatrix made a joke at someone else's expense. Andromeda shifted towards him and gave his shoulder a pat. "You're a sweet guy, Harry."

Harry could feel the warmth of her hand like an imprint on his skin. He blamed it on the fact that people didn't touch him very often; something as innocuous as a pat was bound to set off alarm bells in his head. "Er—"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not hitting on you. There wouldn't be any point in it."

"Alright." Harry shuffled his feet on the floor. "I mean. I do like girls, too."

"But you've got your eye on that new kid, and that's fine." Andromeda's lips quirked into a lopsided smirk. "Not to my taste, personally, but I can see why tall, dark, and handsome has its appeal."

Harry threw her a flat stare. "Is that all anyone cares about? Dating and—and sex?"

Andromeda's mischievous gaze softened. "Not for everyone, no. But like I said, Harry, you're a sweet guy. If there's someone out there who can make you happy, I wish you the best of luck with it."

A mixture of embarrassment and uncertainty bubbled up in him. "Sure, thanks," Harry said. Then he tried to stuff his hands into the pockets of his jeans, only his jeans were too tight. He could barely get the first two joints of his fingers in. "Um, I'll go see if Bellatrix needs help with anything else."

Harry slid his hands into his jacket pockets and walked away, leaving Andromeda alone. Hopefully, the party would start soon. Then he could forget about the stress of today and watch everyone else have their fun.

The music was blaring so loudly that it was impossible to hear anything. Not many people were here yet. Harry was getting hungry, only Dudley and Piers had been hovering around the snack table all afternoon. Maybe they would leave soon so he could sneak over and grab some chips to eat.

"Harry?"

Harry swung around. The sight of Neville in baggy jeans and a plain grey hoodie made Harry feel overly-dressed. He had allowed Narcissa to have another go at his hair—it was now held in place with copious amounts of hair gel. Harry could admit it looked nice, even if his entire head felt stiff as a board.

"Hey, Neville," greeted Harry. "I wasn't sure if you were going to come." This homecoming party was essentially everything that Neville's gran hated rolled up into one wild event. Ear-splitting music blasting from the speakers, approximately three dozen unsupervised minors, and lots of illegal substance consumption.

Neville grimaced and gave the living room a cursory glance. "Small price to pay to be able to eat lunch without Dudley and Piers breathing down my neck."

"I'll drink to that," Harry joked. Secretly, he was glad that Neville was here. Even with his new clothes and new 'friends', Harry didn't feel like he fit in. Neville was still his best friend; just knowing Neville was here helped him feel more comfortable. "But you'll see what I mean about popularity, Neville. I promise. Once people see that you're, you know, part of the cool crowd, they'll leave you alone."

Neville nodded once, then glanced at his shoes. "Yeah. Lunch has been kind of a bummer lately."

"I'm really sorry," Harry said. "I wish I could—"

"I know, I know." Neville smiled slightly. "I already said I don't blame you or anything. You're doing what's better for you. And Dudley doesn't bother me anymore, so it's great."

Now Harry felt shitty. He had been eating lunch with the Black sisters, of course, which meant that Neville was alone—and therefore more of a target. Harry had gotten Dudley to back off, but Dudley was not the only bully in the school.

"But hey," Neville added, "tonight will change things, right? Like you said."

"Yeah," Harry said eagerly. He reached out to give Neville's forearm a friendly punch. "We'll stick together tonight, just like usual."

"Just like usual," Neville repeated with a grin. "Sounds fantastic."

The enthusiasm in Neville's voice came as a relief. Harry really wanted this to go well for Neville. If his popularity could rub off onto Neville, then there was hope for a better life at school. After all, if Harry could suddenly become popular, then couldn't it happen to anyone? If Bellatrix was as powerful as she liked to boast she was, then maybe it was only a matter of convincing her to do away with the old system of gossip-y cliques and stuffing freshmen into lockers.

The first step of that plan would be for him and Neville to hang out for the whole party. That way whenever anyone came to talk to Harry, Neville would be there in the peripheral. Neither Dudley nor Piers would be able to come bother Neville while Harry was around, which made it the perfect situation for Neville to get used to socializing.

Given that Neville was now here, Harry supposed that the party was about to start very soon—Neville was not the type to be late. If all went well, tonight would be the best homecoming party since Harry had started high school.

Slowly, the house filled up. Harry recognized everyone who came through the door; most of these people were kids he'd known since kindergarten. Some of them waved at him as they came in, and Harry wondered if the strangeness of being acknowledged would ever wear off. He was used to blending in, to hiding in the hallways by the open doors of classrooms with teachers in them. Being the center of attention was thrilling, but it was also terrifying.

"Hey! Didn't expect to see you both here. Harry, Neville." Ted Tonks was walking towards them.

Harry envied Ted, who had good grades and was friendly with almost everyone. Ted was captain of the chess club and worked part-time at the bookshop in the mall. He was not popular, but he was not unliked, either.

"I didn't expect to be here," Neville replied, "so that makes two of us."

Ted laughed warmly and gave Neville a nudge with his elbow. "You're a fun one, Neville. I'm glad you're here."

"There's snacks and drinks and things over by the far wall," Harry offered. "Feel free to help yourself."

"I might do that. God knows it'll vanish into the gullets of our esteemed football team if we leave it unattended. I'd hate to starve before the party really gets underway." Ted winked and wandered off.

"Ted's always nice," Neville commented.

"Oh, are we gossiping?" Narcissa stepped over, canting her head to the side and holding her hand up to her ear. Upon seeing their bemused expressions, she lowered her hand with a snicker. "You know I heard that Ted Tonks broke Pansy's heart last week."

Harry felt guilty as he recalled Pansy's tearful face during gym class. He'd convinced himself that it wasn't his fault, but now he was less than certain.

"A sad week for poor Pansy," Narcissa said softly. "But she's coming to the party tonight! So we'll have to show her a good time, won't we boys?"

"Sure," Harry agreed.

Narcissa smiled sweetly. "Wonderful. Have either of you had a drink yet?"

"I don't drink," Neville said politely. "But thank you."

Narcissa's smile held strong. She lifted a hand and placed it delicately onto Neville's shoulder. "Nonsense. I'll mix something up that you'll enjoy, Neville."

Harry took a breath. "I'll have something to drink, Narcissa. I don't mind."

"That's the spirit! I promise you'll like it." Narcissa took Harry by the arm and dragged him towards the table. Neville followed them at a sedate pace, hands stuffed into the front pocket of his sweatshirt.

"Salt, then shot, then lime," Narcissa instructed as she poured out two glasses of tequila. They watched as she licked the back of her hand and sprinkled salt onto it. Then she licked the salt up, threw back the first shot, and finished it off with a bite of lime. "See? Easy!"

"I'm good, thanks," Neville repeated as Narcissa held a shot glass and a salt shaker out to him.

"More for the rest of us, then." Narcissa turned her attention to Harry. "Harry, darling, now this one's yours."

It was just one shot. If they were going to fit in, then he had to make an effort. Harry took the shot glass and copied what Narcissa had done. The alcohol did not taste particularly good, but the salt and lime helped chase the flavour down. Harry swallowed and tried not to cough, wishing he'd eaten more before the party had started. The only thing he'd had since lunch was the Slurpee that Tom had gotten for him.

"Lovely," Narcissa said proudly. "You're going to be a natural. I think I'll leave you both to it!"

Once she was out of earshot, Harry coughed to clear his throat. Did she mean that they ought to stay here and serve drinks?

"You alright?" Neville asked worriedly. "You didn't have to do that, you know."

"I know. I wanted to." Harry rubbed the damp backside of his hand on his jeans. "I'm going to get some chips to eat."

"Food will help," Neville agreed. "But seriously, don't feel like you have to do anything for me. I don't mind if people think I'm a downer."

"Everything is great," Harry promised. "Tonight's going to be great. Maybe it's not like movie night at your gran's, but we can still have fun." He snatched up a paper plate and filled it with salt and vinegar chips. Not the most nutritious dinner, but better than what he got some nights at the Dursleys.

Across the room, Piers and Dudley were shouting and mock-wrestling with a large, pink, pig-shaped piñata while the Black sisters watched. Harry crammed a handful of chips into his mouth and started chewing.

"I can hardly hear myself think over all the music," Neville said. "How do people go to parties like this all the time?"

"No idea." Maybe tonight they would find out.

As the night wore on, the house grew more crowded. Everyone was having a good time, singing and dancing and laughing. The loud music was pounding in Harry's eardrums, urging him to sway in time to the beat. Though he was mostly observing the crowd, he was having a nice time. Harry was even tempted to have another drink just to see how it felt.

Neville was by the punch bowl and talking to Pansy. Harry didn't think that Narcissa wanted him and Neville to play bartender, but Neville felt better with a task to do, so Harry let it happen. Maybe if Harry was feeling more confident later, he would drag Neville into some dancing.

Harry was once again considering the tequila when Bellatrix came over to him. Her lipstick was fixed in place, hardly smudged despite the number of drinks he'd watched her throw back. Bellatrix held her liquor better than Dudley did, which was impressive given the size difference between the two of them.

"Enjoying yourself, Harry?" Something about her voice never failed to make his skin itch and crawl, like someone had poured ants over him.

"Yeah," Harry said. "It's a good time."

"And your little friend? Neville? Is he having fun?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Thanks for inviting him." Then, because he couldn't help himself, he looked towards the punch bowl.

Bellatrix followed the direction of his gaze. When her eyes landed on Neville and Pansy, her mouth curled into a smile. "How cute. I wasn't sure if she'd show, if I'm being honest. She was so devastated after Ted turned her down." It took a second for the meaning to register—that Bellatrix was talking about Pansy. Then Bellatrix laid a delicate hand on Harry's arm, trailing it up and across until she had two fingers pressed under his chin, tilting his head back. "But lo and behold, Pansy found the sweetest note in her locker the other day!"

This was a confirmation of Harry's worst fear. Until this moment, he had convinced himself that no harm had been caused, that his forgeries were just firewood for the pyre of idle gossip. But now he was faced with the consequences of his decisions—the consequences of his popularity. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and worse still to do so in front of Bellatrix, who Harry did not doubt was enjoying herself.

"Nothing to say?" Bellatrix asked kindly. "Shall I call Piers over to say hello?"

"No," Harry bit out. "You shouldn't! What did Pansy ever do to you?"

"I needed her out of the way. This was simply the best way to achieve that goal. The sooner she realizes that no one will ever want her, the sooner we can all move on with our lives." Bellatrix's smug smile sent a wave of revulsion rippling through him. Harry was disgusted with her, and with himself for going along with all of this.

"Have you ever, I don't know, considered talking to people when you have an issue with them?"

"Why bother with that? Haven't I just told you I have things in hand?" Bellatrix narrowed her eyes at him and dropped her hand from his face. "And here I thought you'd be happy to hear I'm putting your creative talents to good use."

Harry's contempt was boiling over into resentment and outrage. His jaw ticked with annoyance. Bellatrix had manipulated him just like she had with Pansy. With everyone. "Not like that. Forging a hall pass isn't the same as this. She's already miserable, Bellatrix. Why do you have to make her feel worse?"

"You knew what you signed up for when you agreed to let me help you," Bellatrix said, jabbing her finger at him. "Don't play so innocent now. This is the price you pay if you want to sit with the big girls. There are no refunds, no exchanges, no take backs. If you're having second thoughts, Harry, you best keep those to yourself." She stepped closer, close enough that Harry could witness the utter lack of compassion in her eyes. "Because I don't do second chances."

Harry was prepared to protest—surely someone as smart as Bellatrix could see reason if it was pointed out to her—but then her hand made contact with his chest and shoved him backwards. He stumbled back half a step to catch his balance and collided awkwardly with the table behind him.

"Would you like to go back to being Pansy? A pathetic loser with nothing to hope for aside from having your head stuffed into a toilet?" Bellatrix snorted, her hands crossed over her chest as she sneered at him. "Don't make me laugh. You're living the dream because I allow it. Because you are useful to me. And I've been generous, haven't I? I've paid for your clothes, I've let your little friend join the fun." Her hand closed in again, her sharp nails stabbing into his shoulder. "Anyone else would kill to be in your shoes," she hissed. "Do not fuck it up over a guilty conscience."

Harry swallowed around the dryness in his mouth. Just behind Bellatrix, Neville was still chatting with Pansy. Neville looked happy despite the alien setting of the homecoming party, and that was because of what Harry had done. Neville was only here because Harry had dug himself into debt with Bellatrix Black.

"A word of advice? Drown out whatever voice is bitching and moaning by having another drink." She stepped back, releasing him. Her voice was light and airy as she poured a shot out. "You've come this far, Harry. Continue to be a good boy, and you'll turn out just fine. I'll even see about helping you with psycho trench coat kid, if that's what you want." Her finger tapped the rim in a teasing manner before she lifted it in his direction.

When Harry failed to move, she raised her brows at him. "You live in my world, you live by my rules. Do not test me, or you will regret it, just like lovely Pansy." Bellatrix smiled, equal parts sinister and cheerful. Drink," she added, lowering her voice to a croon. "You'll feel better, I promise."

Harry drew the comparison from one drink to the other—Tom's frozen, sugary concoction versus the harsh, unforgiving taste of Bellatrix's tequila. Two different methods of coping. Harry knew that people drank to numb themselves, to forget the things that hurt. Alcohol possessed the same power as brain freeze, only it was more potent, more dangerous. The appeal was there, as was the desire for all his worries to melt away.

Suddenly, Harry understood why Tom chose to spend his pocket money downing liquid sugar in a slush format. Anything had to be better than thinking all the time. All the stress and worry of navigating what should have been a fun final year of high school. All the hard choices he had to make in order to survive.

Harry took the shot in hand and downed it, spluttering around the flavour. Without the salt and lime to soften it, it was awful. And to think he had promised Neville not to do anything stupid. Well, first time for everything. Or was this now the second time?

"Excellent," Bellatrix praised. "Now—"

"Bellaaa!" exclaimed Narcissa. She stepped towards them, smiling all the while. One of her hands was occupied with a drink, but the other was waving back and forth in an excited manner. "Bella, Bella, Bella! I was just talking to Piers. You won't believe what he said to me. He's so funny. And hot."

Narcissa's ankles wobbled in their heels as she bumped into Bellatrix, but she remained upright by clinging to her sister. "I think he was hitting on me," she said in a whisper that wasn't really a whisper at all, much to Harry's second-hand embarrassment.

Bellatrix's expression was full of disinterest. But Narcissa only giggled, the sound bubbly and wild. She squinted at Harry, then gave her sister's arm a tug and added, "Is it time for the piñata yet? Where's Lardbottom?"

"Shut up, Narcissa." Bellatrix peeled Narcissa's hands off her arm with a disgusted sound. "I do so much for you ungrateful bitches, the least you could do is shut up." To Narcissa's wounded look, she added, "Why don't you make yourself useful and go fetch him for me. Here—" Bellatrix produced a strip of pink cloth from her pocket and dangled it in the air. "Use this."

"Use that for what?" Harry asked warily as Narcissa walked off, mumbling to herself.

"Dear Neville has the honour of breaking open the piñata!" Bellatrix declared cheerfully. Her eyes shone even in the dim party lighting.

Harry was made more confused by her response, and this must have shown on his face because Bellatrix pouted at him, the fullness of her lower lip jutting out in an obscene manner.

"Isn't this what you wanted, Harry?" she asked in a honeyed tone. "For your friend to be popular?"

"I—" Harry didn't know what to do. The loud music combined with his stomach half-full of junk food and alcohol was not a great mix for making intelligent choices. He was having doubts about Bellatrix's intentions. He was having doubts about everything. "I'm going to go and talk to Neville."

A/N:

next chapter: dead man walking ;)