A/N: Uhm, first off, you all are SOOO spoiled! :p So, there were only two Hufflepuffs. Because of this, I decided to kind of start the meshing of characters/houses that I'm planning to continue throughout the other chapters. So this kinda morphed into a bit of Hufflepuff/Slytherin chapter. In this chapter, you will find:
Emilie Austen Winchester & xoxcrescentmoonxox
Right here, I was going to explain future chapter organization to you – but do you care? :p Enjoy! Gryff-centric chapter up next!
PS: Emilie Austen Winchester: Be happy that I blessed you with some of my favourite shoes everrrr. (: I was thinking about keeping them for my char. but they just seemed too fitting for you! :p
Emilie Austen Winchester stared at herself in the mirror, head cocked to one side. This wasn't like her, but she didn't care. It was a new school year, and she was going to start it off on the right, and absolutely insane, note. She carefully applied black liquid eyeliner to her upper lids only, being careful not to get any on her slightly too-long blunt cut fringe. She glanced in the corner of her mirror, where her roommate of three years, Claire Burns, could be seen, sitting, writing furiously in a notebook.
Emilie straightened up, leaning over to slip into her Alexander McQueen Union Jack Ankle boots. "Do I look alright, Claire?"
Claire looked up from where she was writing, giving Emilie the once over. She was wearing something quite different from her day-to-day boho look : black tights, short black draped chiffon dress, and a leather jacket. Not to mention the killer boots. Claire nodded. "You look great. Where are you going?"
"Don't you mean where are we going?," Emilie asked with a smirk almost never seen on a Hufflepuff. Claire's eyes widened slightly and she closed her notebook, setting it beside her on the bed.
"We're going to the Slytherin's party. I heard they're having it in the basement this year." Emilie glanced at herself once again the mirror, adjusting her bra, pushing herself up. Claire only blinked.
"I don't think.. I don't think I have anything to wear," Claire said with a frown. "And before you suggest I borrow something, our body types are not nearly the same, and I never fit into your clothes."
Emilie sighed. "Do you own anything black, Claire?"
"Well, yeah, of course," Claire said with a shrug.
"Well, wear it."
Claire gnawed on her bottom lip nervously, almost full bottle of beer clutched in palm as she sat on an empty crate in the basement. She pulled at the collar of her J. Crew black v-neck sweater. She switched the damp bottle to her other hand, wiping her now-empty palm on her black skinny jeans. Emilie had even talked her into wearing a pair of black studded Sam Edelman wedges. They were Emilie's; they only thing they had in common was a shoe size.
Claire was pretty sure she hadn't realized how uncommonly good-looking the Slytherin boys were until tonight. And now, on top of her nerves about being caught, she had to worry about looking okay. She took another hesitant sip from her bottle, grimacing at the taste. Even though she'd never tried liquor before, Claire was positive she would probably like it more than this bottle of piss.
"Here," an unfamiliar voice, belonging to Kat Dubrovskiy, said from her right. Claire looked up and realized she was being handed another beer.
"Uh, no thanks, still trying to finish off this one," Claire said with an uneasy smile. She hoped it was convincing.
"It's full of water," Kat said with a smile, shaking the bottle enticingly. "Trade me. I don't mind the piss taste."
Claire laughed softly, trading bottles with the girl. "How did you-"
"Know?," Kat asked with a smirk. "One of my best friends hates drinking. So when we go out, I always fill one with water for her, so it looks like she's partying and no one says anything. You had the same kind of look on your face."
Claire frowned. "It was that obvious?"
"Don't worry, I don't think anyone else noticed. I tend to watch people," Kat said, sitting on the crate next to Claire. "Cute shoes."
"Thanks," Claire smiled. "I watch people too. Pretty much what I've been doing for the past half-hour." Kat snorted.
"What do you know about that blonde boy, right… there?," the Slytherin girl asked, pointing to Draco Malfoy. Claire laughed dryly.
"He's on his fourth beer in thirty minutes. He doesn't look that drunk, but I'm guessing he was drinking for a bit before he came. His girlfriend's been hanging off his arm all night, and I'm getting the feeling that he wants to vomit on her shoes about now. They're Saint Laurent, Spring '09."
Kat raised an eyebrow at Claire, but smiled at her with respect. "Alright, P.I. Remind me to come to you if I ever need any sleuthing done." Claire blushed, though she smiled at the compliment. She scanned the room once again and groaned.
"Oh God, my roommate…"
"So, you play football?," Emilie asked with a bold smile, her hand resting on Blaise's arm, her back on the wall, her hips pushed out toward him. She took a sip from her red plastic cup, glancing at the dark liquid swirling around in it. She licked her lips, catching a drip.
Blaise nodded. "Captain, actually." He looked out of the corner of his eyes, praying that Daphne wasn't anywhere nearby. She probably wouldn't be happy when she found out that Emilie had had her hand on his arm for the past ten minutes and he hadn't even bothered to try removing it.
"Oh, so you must be really good at what you do," Emilie said, smirking again, her green eyes slightly unfocused. Blaise snorted at the girl's double entendre, wondering what house she was in. He'd never seen her before.
"You could… show me, sometime," Emilie continued, slurring slightly. Blaise's eyes widened.
"Excuse me?"
Emilie rolled her eyes, leaning off the wall and swaying uneasily. "I meant your footie skills. Not anything dirty."
Blaise smirked. "Sure you didn't."
"So, dragon girl's giving your arm a break?," Kat asked, closer to Draco's ear than he realized. He nearly jumped out of his skin at the warm breath, but he was drunk and it took him at least five seconds to process everything.
"Hi, kitten," Draco drawled, turning to face Pansy's new roommate. "Having fun at your first Slytherin party?"
"I'm getting there," Kat said, motioning to her half empty bottle. "Seems like you've already passed fun and are heading into comatose." Draco chuckled.
"Didn't know one lead to the other, but fuck off," Draco said with a smile. "I can handle my drink, for your information." He hiccupped into his hand. "Your tits look great in that dress, by the way." Kat rolled her eyes.
"Sure you can handle your drink," she drawled, patting his cheek sharply. Draco yelped and frowned at the girl, but soon forgot why he was angry anyway. "W. W. P. S? What would Pansy say?" Draco snorted at her lame joke, but didn't have the capacity to form a witty remark. He didn't have to though, because someone else did.
"Pansy would say 'get the fuck away from my boyfriend'," the devil herself drawled, her claws wrapping around Draco's arm once again.
"Right, well next time you see her, don't mention this," Kat said with a wink before sidling away. Draco chuckled. Pansy hit him sharply on the arm. "Don't laugh."
"You know she's only fourteen, right?," Railey said from behind Theo. Only moments before, Helena Black, with her long black hair and diamond lip stud had flounced away happily, a new number in her black Blackberry Pearl.
"She told me she was sixteen," Theo said with a shrug, turning to face Railey, forcing his features into a look of complete nonchalance. "Don't be bitter."
"Bitter?," Railey snorted. "Give me a minute. I'm trying to think of what a fourteen-year-old could possibly have that I don't." Theo stepped closer to Railey, shaking his head, features drifting into a scowl.
"Don't embarrass yourself, Rai," Theo spat, drink turning him into the bastard he didn't want to be. "The whole 'woman-scorned' thing doesn't suit you. Now I've given you the chance to talk about… what happened, with me. You didn't want to. So I'm assuming that means you don't want anything to do with me." He looked away from her hurt face before continuing.
"Just let me get over you the way I want to."
"Are you alright?," Kat asked hesitantly as she pushed the door to the boy's bathroom stall open. She'd been on her way back to her dorm when she'd heard someone retching their guts up in the boy's second floor bathroom.
She rolled her eyes when she saw who it was. "You really can't handle your drink." She could say the same for herself, as the swinging metal door felt like the only thing keeping her upright, but she didn't think now was the time to mention exactly how inebriated she felt.
Draco groaned, one arm resting on the porcelain seat. " 'm fine," he slurred before leaning in and spewing again. Kat grimaced, holding a finger daintily under her nose.
"Where's Pansy?," she asked, leaving the door open as she went to the sink, wetting a paper towel.
"Didn't want to… leave just yet. I couldn't – couldn't stand straight anymore, so-," he paused, covering his mouth with the back of his hand for a moment. "I left."
Kat sighed, crouching down next to Draco. He sat up, leaning back against the side of the stall. Taking the towel from her hand, he wiped his mouth, his nose scrunched up in disgust.
"Can you stand up?," Kat asked, holding back a laugh as Draco struggled to his feet. She put her cool palm to her forehead, taking a deep breath, beginning to feel a bit more sober than she previously was. "Come on, I'll take you to your dorm."
Leaning heavily on Kat, Draco managed to lead her all the way down the hall without needing to stop, sit, or fall over. He couldn't unlock his door though; Kat had to do that for him.
"Bed," Kat commanded with a chuckle, watching as Draco went over and flopped onto his bed lifelessly. She sighed, turning to leave.
"Sleep with me," came the muffled demand.
Kat snorted. "I'm not sure what you've been told, but I'm not really like that. True, I'm drunk, and it's happened before. But I learn from my mistakes."
Draco raised his head enough to shoot her a scathing look. "I'm dating a lethal weapon. I'm not that stupid. I just... lay with me, please?"
Kat felt the last of her resolve melting away at his quiet plea. She bit the pad of her thumb, contemplating.
"Alright, but if you try anything- I'll knock your teeth out."
Blaise stepped out of the broom closet on the first floor hallway with a sated smile. He straightened out his shirt, zippering and buttoning his Diesel jeans. He took a steadying breath, running his long fingers through his loose black curls. With an intoxicated grin, he set off back in the direction of the party.
Exactly two minutes and eleven seconds later, Claire stepped out of the very same broom closet.