Warnings for this chapter: intoxication

Terezi's P.O.V.

I'm sitting in potions class, but my cauldron is empty. Everyone else around me is busy measuring out beetle eyes and salamander blood, carefully stirring their potions, crushing wasp wings with their mortars and pestles. I keep reading the instructions over and over again, but they have no meaning and I absorb none of it. When I get to the end of a sentence, I've already forgotten what was at the begging, or what I was even reading about in the first place. I sigh and lean back in defeat. I can't get Karkat off my mind. Or Sollux, for that matter. I know it isn't fair to them, but I feel kind of betrayed. They were both my friends, and now they're. . . what? Not? No, they're still my friends, and I have no right to be feeling betrayed. Or even jealous, for that matter. The truth was, there was a time that I probably could have had Karkat, had I been brave enough to actually do something about it more than just tease him and act like it was a joke. I can't help but wonder if things would be any different if I had never gone out with Dave. But, no, this isn't his fault, either. And once again I have to remind myself that I'm being ridiculous and the only one to blame is myself. Guilty. It's all my own fault that I'm in this situation now.

My face must really look like shit, because my desk partner abandons the usual green ooze in his cauldron and turns to me, sitting down and resting his arm on the back of his chair as he looks at me with concern.

"Whats all up and botherin a friend?" There's something silly about the cadence of his voice, but he seems sincere. I kind of want to just pour the whole story out. But that would just make me look pathetic, so I don't.

"Nothing's wrong," I lie. I hate lying. I hate deceit. It stinks.

"Now don't go on lying like that," Gamzee says. "You look like some motherfucker up and was killin your favorite dragon or something."

I smile grimly, but don't offer an answer. Gamzee and I have actually known each other for quite a long time. I wouldn't go as far as to say we're friends, but he's close to Karkat, or at least he was, so it's kind of inevitable that we know each other pretty well. Actually, I haven't seen those two talk to each other in probably an entire month. Odd.

"Y'know?," he drawled. "you could join me after all these teachin' friends get done sharing their words of wisdom and I can work some miracles to help you out. You look like you could use a good dose of wicked elixir."

I don't know what he's talking about, so I just nod and turn my attention back to my potions book. Either he gets the message or is satisfied with my response, because he doesn't bug me again. Even by the end of class, all I've managed to come up with is a cauldron of boiling saltwater. I could make pasta with this just as well as... what were we even working on, anyway?

In History of Magic, Karkat sits between me and Sollux as usual. The two of them are not passing notes today but I think they're holding hands under the table. Karkat's blushing a little. I try to distract myself by drawing pictures in my notes—designing a new layout for Can Town, which with a little work I could present to the headmaster. But I give up half-way through and just scribble unintelligible shapes along the borders of the paper and spirals like little ink tornadoes where my notes should be. Neither Karkat nor Sollux say a word to me the entire hour we're there, even as we pack up our books and leave the room. I can't help but be a little hurt, because I don't remember doing anything to warrant their ignoring me. On the other hand, I didn't try to speak to them, either.

I share my herbology class with Dave. However, we somehow end up on opposite sides of the room as we trim our plants and all I get from him is a friendly nod at the beginning of class while we're listening to instructions. He takes off right as we're released and I don't see him again for a while.

My day already sucks, and by the time classes are out, I have a shitload of homework to do. I head to the library and spread my textbooks out across an entire table, taking up more room than one person could possibly need on this giant wooden mesa. Then I sit there and stare at those books with a furious boredom, and my mind wanders to all the other great things these books could be used for rather than homework. I could build a fort out of them, and hold court inside of it. Each book could have some sort of mystery behind it—used as a murder weapon, or secretly be an encrypted message from some prisoner a hundred years ago, or—a boring old wizard who wanted to torture innocent kids with flowery words and convoluted texts about over-complicated spells. Really, when am I ever going to need a spell that lets me charm ants into synchronized dance formations?

A shadow slides over my cluttered workspace, and I look up to see Dave peering over my shoulder.

"Hey, Dave," I say.

"'Sup, Terezi?"

"Square-dancing insects," I explain. He nods sympathetically, although I doubt he has a clue what I'm talking about.

"Have you seen John around here?" he asks.

I glance around the area of the library that I can see and shake my head. "Sorry. Did you need him?"

He sits down in the chair next to me, and I assume he's ready for a feelings-jam of some sort. It's not something that's particularly normal with us, especially with our history, but I would have to consider him one of my best friends and if he wants to vent then I'm not going to be a bitch about it, even if he isn't there for me when I could use a shoulder.

"Is something wrong?" I ask, sighing. I've never been good at comforting people. In fact, I'm much better at causing discomfort. But in this case, I will try. I love Dave. In a platonic way.

"John's ignoring me," he says. I wonder what his expression looks like underneath his shades. All I can see are very subtle changes that I can only pick up because I know him so well—an ever-so-slight downturn of the mouth, his position with his arms crossed when he usually exudes confidence.

I don't know how to answer him, so I just wait for him to continue. When he doesn't, I figure I'm going to have to get to the root of this.

"Is it justified?" I ask, closing the book I wasn't reading to signify that he has my full attention.

"I can't think of anything I did, and he won't tell me," he says. His hand goes to his hair and he combs his bangs backward, something I know he would never do within his normal cool act.

"Maybe he's just having a bad day," I suggest, resting my head on my hand.

"That's not like John," he mumbled.

"Everyone has bad days, Strider," I tell him.

"No, I mean he never ignores me just because he's having a bad day," he explains.

"Maybe you're misinterpreting him?"

"I don't know." He exhales and sinks backward in his chair, tilting his head toward the library's fancy ceiling.

I'm kind of confused. This isn't much like Dave. Doesn't he usually take these kinds of problems to Rose? This is not my area of expertise. Our relationship works around a shared sense of humor, not helping each other with our problems.

"Why don't you go find him?" I suggest.

"That's what I was trying to do. He said he was going to be in the library."

"But he's not here," I finish for him.

He nods.

"Then why are you still here?" I ask, almost hoping that he would say he wanted to talk to me, that he would stay and distract me from my homework. Alas, of course he doesn't.

"Yeah, you're right," he says, and gets up, the chair making an awful screeching sound against the floor. He doesn't bother to push it back in before he walks away.

I set my head down on my open book and sigh deeply. I can faintly hear the ticking of a clock, creaky footsteps in the distance, someone turning a page, the edges of a hushed conversation. The book my face is in smells kind of nasty. For a few minutes, I let my thoughts wander. Dave visiting me here has probably been the best part of my day, which is looking on the dim side right now. The image of Sollux and Karkat kissing comes back into my head, and I try to draw my mind away from it quickly. It doesn't work. Instead, I pull myself upright and nearly jump out of my seat as a figure sitting across from me meets my nose.

It's Gamzee. He smiles lazily at me and gives me a rather profane greeting.

"Why are you here?" I ask, not in the mood to deal with this guy.

"I thought you were gonna all up and join me," he says.

"Where?"

"Just a place filled with motherfuckin miracles."

What is he even talking about? I sigh in frustration and drop my book on top of another with a satisfactory thud. I could use a break from this mind-numbing work, anyway. And Gamzee seems to think whatever it is will help me.

"Okay. Fine," I say, standing.

He grins at me, grabs my hand, and pulls me away from the table where my books lay abandoned. We exit the library and he still doesn't let go of me. His hand is big and clammy and it's making me feel somewhat awkward.

"You know I can walk without a guide, right?"

"Oh, sorry, motherfucker," he chuckles, and lets go. "Didn't mean to get you all offended."

I frown. The whole being-offended act is part of my routine, and I usually get a certain amount of amusement from making people feel guilty about it. But this time I'm just annoyed.

Gamzee leads me into corridor upon corridor, up stairs, and through passageways. I have no difficulty following him because he has a very distinct smell. Eventually we stop in front of a tapestry in a hallway. It depicts a gate framed by bright trees and is bordered in a nicely-scented maroon. We duck behind it and arrive in a small hideout with what seems to be another tapestry-covered entrance at the other end. It is dimly lit with a few candles, and there are two boys sitting on the ground among what smells like bicycle horns. One of them is a rather small-ish, stuttering Hufflepuff who has dimples when he smiles—Tavros, I think—and the other is a Slytherin named Eridan, admittedly handsome but incredibly obnoxious.

Gamzee sits between them, stepping on the horns and making a huge racket, and motions for me to join the group on the ground. I sit gingerly next to Tavros and fold my legs beneath me. The stone floor is cold and I can't imagine the last time anyone has cleaned in here. I take in a deep breath and wonder what the hell I'm doing here.

"How about some wicked elixir?" he asks. "What color is being your favorite? Wait, I know, it has gotta be red."

He hands me a bottle of red liquid that he seems to have pulled from nowhere. It sizzles when I open it, and I slowly bring it to my lips, not really sure why I'm about to drink something I know nothing about on the recommendation of a guy like Gamzee.

I drink it anyway. While the color is delicious, I'm not very fond of the actual flavor of the drink. It tastes like cheap soda, full of chemicals and corn syrup. Even though I'm able to taste the difference, color overrides real flavor, and I drink the entire thing. My head feels a little funny afterward, and when I try to pay attention to what the three boys are talking about, it takes me a minute to grasp their words. My mind is pretty fuzzy. I attribute it to studying, and maybe the concussion isn't quite as healed as I'd thought.

"And noww she wwants nothing to do wwith me," Eridan is saying when I tune in. He scowls and crosses his arms over his chest. I honestly don't care whatever he's whining about, but I listen anyway, taking frequent swigs of my drink, as he rambles on about a girl who somehow dumped him even though they were never really together in the first place. Gamzee pats his shoulder and tries to give him a Faygo. Is that what this drink is called? Eridan is reluctant but takes it eventually, and that shuts him up. Tavros seems uncomfortable in the corner, glancing between us and his toes.

"Why you feelin so down right unhappy for, motherfucker?" Gamzee asks, and it takes me a minute to realize that he's talking to me.

I slump slightly and contemplate telling them. Why not? It would feel good to get it all of my chest. I don't see any good reason not to trust these guys. I feel strangely safe and maybe if I tell them I won't feel so bad anymore. I don't know what kind of logic that is, but I'm trusting it now.

"Did someone dump you, too?" Eridan asks.

I shake my head. "It's Karkat," I begin, fiddling with my now-empty bottle.

"Wwhat about him?"

I swallow, and it hurts. "He likes Sollux now." There is a horrible pang in my chest as my mind flashes back to them kissing in the hallway. The way that Karkat held his face, and Sollux's hands on his waist. The way their hands were clasped together when they entered the common room. And a brief memory from something years ago, an instance with enchanted mistletoe, the first and only time I had ever kissed Karkat.

"How did you come of thinking that?" Gamzee asks.

"They're dating," I say, frowning at the floor. I sink forward until I'm curled up in a ball. I want to cry, but I don't.

"I don't understand, motherfucker. Maybe you could you get your explaining on?"

There's a pain in my throat and I blink rapidly and bury my face in my knees.

"I just," I try to say, my voice muffled, "it hurts. Because I l-like him."

There is a silence as they take in what I said, and then a horn honks as someone moves. I expect a comforting hand to fall on my head or my shoulder, but there is nothing.

Finally, Eridan says, "Wwho? Sol?"

"No, Karkat," I breathe, and pull myself to my feet. I'm wobbly and have a hard time keeping my balance, and I trip over a horn only to catch myself against the wall. Slowly, I hobble out of the room, hoping to leave before I have to hear a verdict on my confession. I feel sick.

The light in the corridor is incredibly bright, making it hard to smell anything else, and I stumble into a coat of armor, knocking in over with a loud clatter. I don't bother to apologize as it gets back to its feet, and when it is back in position, it flips me off.

There is a chorus of honks from inside the hideout, and Gamzee emerges from behind the tapestry. He puts his hand on my shoulder and says, "Don't you be worrying. Just wait for a motherfucking miracle. They're everywhere."

I nod, but internally I'm shaking my head. Miracles aren't real. There is magic, and justice, and injustice, and mercy, and cruelty, but no miracles.

I head back toward Gryffindor tower, but once I've turned a few corners I realize that I have no idea where I am, and I'm feeling awfully dizzy. I feel like I might have gone in a circle. There's that statue that we passed on the way here, so I must be going in the right direction. I keep going, and a few minutes later I want to vomit. Whatever that sickening carbonated substance was, it was making me ill. Maybe it was alcoholic—that would explain a lot. I decide to sit down for a moment, just to collect my bearings and hopefully make my stomach a little bit happier. I lean against the wall and sink to the ground. My breathing is heavy, and my eyes sting. Somehow, it's really warm in this hallway. I let my head drop forward and close my minutes, I'm asleep.

When I wake up, I feel a lot better. I inhale and find that Gamzee and Tavros are standing above me.

"It was, uh, probably the Faygo," Tavros is saying.

"I didn't know it would make a motherfucker pass out like that,"

The light from a window a few feet away tells me that it is considerably later than it had been when I fell asleep.

"What time is it?" I ask, and both of them are startled to hear me speak.

"It's, uh, um, five-forty," Tavros says.

I get to my feet and dust my pants off. My head hurts a little, but otherwise I'm fine. I push past them and realize that I don't know where I am.

"Which way is Gryffindor tower?" I ask.

"We'll walk you up over there," Gamzee drawls.

"Actually, dinner will be soon," Tavros points out. "Um, maybe we should head in that direction."

"You're right, bro. Don't wanna be missing anything important like that,"

And so I walk with them to the Great Hall, instead. As soon as we enter, Vriska, a Slytherin girl, grabs Tavros by the elbow and drags him away while he stutters in protest. Gamzee chuckles, but doesn't seem concerned, and goes to sit at the Hufflepuff table. Dave isn't in his usual spot, and neither is John. Karkat isn't here yet, either. I slide down the table a ways and ask my quidditch captain, Jake English, if he's seen either of them.

"I think I saw John outside earlier today," he tells me.

I bite my lip as I contemplate whether or not I should go find them. They might have lost track of time and not even know that dinner is about to start. Yes, I decide, acting more on impulse than really thinking of reason to go after them.

As I get up, Gamzee also rises from the Hufflepuff table. I think nothing of it until he blocks me on my way out, and starts blabbering in his gravely voice. I don't pay attention to what he is saying, because it sounds like the usual codswallop. Nevertheless, he walks with me toward the door.

"And then he told me that there's this Hogsmeade weekend thing," he says as we exit the Great hall and I tune in. He goes on about it, and I'm only half-listening, slightly annoyed. And then Karkat comes into sight. Sollux is with him, and he has his arm around Karkat's waist. There is a little twinge of jealously in my gut as I watch them. Neither of them acknowledge my presence as they pass.

"So I am just wonderin if you would all up and come with me," Gamzee says.

I stop right in front of the door, and glance at the couple, their backs now turned. There's something about the way they lean towards each other that irritates me.

"Sure," I say, smiling at Gamzee. And maybe it's just that the effects of the Faygo haven't worn off yet, but I think I can work this to my advantage.

"Motherfuck! Yeah!" he says. Tavros appears at his side and I tune out of their conversation, then step outside into the rain.

A/N: A huge thanks to King Toothy for beta-reading! And another big thanks to all of the followers and reviewers and even you silent readers.

Please leave a review on your way out! It would be very much appreciated.