Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Thank you to MLMarint (Awww thank you!), Guest, catwomannnnn1, and Cornelia11270 for your reviews! I'm so amazed that you guys read and review so quickly, it just blows my mind how much love I'm getting for this story! We even passed 10,000 readers last night - it's insane! And way past my wildest dreams. Thank you, sincerely.

So, no one guessed the next chapter correctly, but I actually really like this guy. I think he's one of the contenders for the favourite of the group. Um, anyway, warning for swear words? Just remember that we're British so swearing is no big deal to us! *Especially if you're from the North, and as this character is from the northern part of Nottinghamshire, I, as a resident of the county, can officially call him a Northerner. Totally something I'm licenced to say. Anyway... apologies to all those who dislike swearing.

Enjoy!

Chapter 24: Max

Some moments in life, you're just going to remember. Some moments in life are just going to stick in your head forever and ever. Maybe they'll get distorted or embellished over the years, but how you felt, how your heart pounded or stopped or went a million miles an hour will always be there, in with your most precious or horrifying memories.

That's what Isabelle on that night will always be, to me.

"Are you for fucking real, Max? I went out on a limb for you, I — agh!" Mia screamed into her hands and I could do nothing but watch, and slowly back away.

"I'm sorry, I should've said earlier but I didn't know how." I felt all icky apologising like this. It's not my fault some girl came out of apparently nowhere and changed my entire life around.

"Words, Max. Using words. That's how you do it." She hissed, and her black, slightly creepy eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. I did have such a knack for pissing off the wrong women.

Well, what can you say? Must've been a family curse.

"Look, I'm sorry," I said, and in that moment, something caught my eye from over at the staircases.

Isabelle. Looking like one of those beautiful movie stars from the 1950s but even better, walking down the stairs like no one else was even in the room. I was drawn to her, look a moth to a flame. I was walking over before I even realised, all sound drowned out and just me and her the only people left existing. I still had no idea what the fuck all this even was, all these intrusive feelings that only served to piss me off.

"Isabelle!" I called, but it was like I'd been silenced; even if I shouted again she wouldn't look my way. Her eyes are fixed on someone at the bottom of the stairs, and I fight my way over to the front of the crowd, just in time to see her reach the bottom, and take the arm of some man and kiss him on the cheek. I'm close enough to see the deep pink or maybe red stain it leaves on his cheek.

And they walk off together. I feel like a silent film star, running after their beloved but without being able to shout them. A fruitless endeavour. And so I stand there, watching the two walk off and hear her infectious laugh and all I can do is look, like the helpless bastard I am.

"There you are! Where the hell did you go?"

It took me a minute to collect myself. I turned to face Mia, who did look admittedly beautiful - if, too much like Scorpius - and came up with some dumb excuse from my dry, dry mouth.

"Sorry. Thought I saw something."

"Well, you didn't. And you still owe me an explanation. What's the problem? I don't get it!"

I'd handled girls like this before. Girls who wanted an answer to the unanswerable question 'why don't you like me anymore?' It was hard to muster up an answer when you didn't even know yourself.

"I'm sorry. I think we're too different people, that's all."

"Of course we're two different people - that's how humanity works."

"No, I mean, I think, I just think we wouldn't get along well. Sorry." The mumbled apology didn't adhere to the saying 'better out than in'. I felt just as queasy both ways.

"Ugh- I can't—"

Thankfully, Henrich cut off her tirade with something I barely paid attention to. And then we were going into the Great Hall, with Lola Travers in between us both. Lola Travers, of all people.

"Perhaps you two should sit down and talk it out."

Mia snorted, arms firmly folded across her chest. "No chance. I'm going with Lavinia. Bye, I hope you have a completely shit night, Max."

She swanned off, and left both me and Lola alone, shunned into the Hall and left to float near the back of the crowd. Not that I minded. I was in a right mardy, and I didn't need to watch that utter wassock Henrich dance like a blind Ostrich to make it feel any worse.

"So," Lola said, half with a sigh, "at least that's over now."

"Yeah. For now." I mumbled, and could feel myself being a right cynical git, but Honestly? I didn't really care.

"I suppose. But it's over for tonight, and that's the main thing."

I let out a deep breath. "'Suppose."

A slow waltz struck up and some applause rang over the first few rows of students. If I squinted, I thought I might be able to see Josh a couple rows in front of me.

"We ever really seem to talk outside of before and after class, do we?"

"Hm. I guess not. Must just be bad timing."

"And different Houses."

"Yeah, that too. Although, not as much of a big deal as I heard it was, right?"

Lola nodded. "I don't really know much about it, but yeah, I heard it used to be pretty bad. In our parent's time."

"Well, they basically lived a millennia ago, anyway."

Lola laughed. "Basically."

"So how did you end up asking Mia in the first place, anyway?"

Now that was something I'd never admit. A terribly heady combination of pride and insecurity and over-confidence and the feeling of just 'fuck it, let's do it'. And a little bit of firewhiskey.

"Yeah. It was a few months back. I thought it'd be a great idea at the time but…"

"No, I know what you mean. A few of my friends did that and it's ended a little less explosively than that, but still not particularly well." It made me feel perversely happy to know that at least other people were suffering the same misery as me, too. "But, we're teenagers. Doing stupid things is like our main job until we finally become adults.

"And when's that? Asking for a friend?" I grinned, and looked at her askance.

"I'll let you know if I ever find out."

I laughed. Actually, I liked hanging out with Lola. Truth is, Slytherins are factious as fuck if you look at it closely. Hanging out with Lola? Immediately narrows the pool of people you have to work with. Go out with Mia, however? Widens it immensely. Scorpius and Albus have really got no idea how it works; how if you get in with the wrong crowd, you will dip to a low you'll never be able to come back from. And if you're not careful, you can kill your sociability and therefore your chance at having a somewhat enjoyable life immediately. Those two never got it - and still don't - so it's no wonder they spent the first two, three, four years in such lonely bloody agony. Pissed off the wrong people right when they got through the doors. Well, Scorpius didn't. But pollution by association and all that. Alfie could only get away with it because he's Alfie, and he's mastered the art of being a social butterfly so brilliantly I can't even be mad. It's impressive how he manages to dip into social groups here and there from as low down as post-Quidditch-golden-boys Scorpius and Albus, all the way up to Harvey Payne and Leo Black and all the school Alphas. It's an impressive gift, but bloody terrifying once you think about it. Who does he have, once he needs it?

Us, his dorm mates. That's all. And if we fight? No one.

Lola pulled me from my thoughts by shuffling slightly next to me. She did actually look quite nice, dressed in an ice blue that matched her eyes. Couldn't say I was a fan of the wispy yet solid looking material her skirt was made of.

"How did you become friends with Albus and Scorpius, again? I'm not sure anyone's ever told me."

I let out a chuckle as forced as I'd ever heard one. "Oh, right. Yeah. The ultimate question."

One better not answered. How did you succinctly explain that Rhys Owen, the living pile of shit he was, found out you were the bastard son of two Death Eaters, raised by their non-Death Eater brother and sister-in-law, at once destroying your hard-earned reputation, careful web of social contacts that spanned several houses - mostly including our wonderful neighbouring boys' room - and any chance at having a half-half-way decent life for the secret son of Death Eaters that you could imagine. It was, without question, the worst day in his entire Hogwarts life. Rhys Owen is a living shit bag. But the boys next door? What they did maybe hurt worse. Josh and I never talked to Scorpius and Al - we thought they were weirdos, and they were barely ever in the dorm. Alfie never spoke. So they were the ones we hung out with. I thought Patrick was my best friend. But as soon as they heard about my 'parents', they wouldn't even look at me, or at Josh, who was the only loyal one amongst the bastards. So we clung to each other, and became BFFs or whatever they say, and finally began talking to Scorpius and Al and Alfie, and we even became friends, uniting the five of us by the end of fourth year. And cementing us against the other boys, when we came back to our room one day to find Josh's stuff hurled all across the room, with a dung bomb let off in his chest, all because he called them out on their nobbish behaviour.

But I suppose it wasn't all bad. I'd rather Josh alone than any of those fake twats. And Al, and Scorpius and Alfie. They're genuine people, not social climbers. Not like I'm one, either. But we helped those three get to 'normal-person' status in the perception of the rest of the school by fifth year through our serial dating and therefore networking, and now by halfway through sixth year, we're actually not half bad. Maybe even pushing on a popular group.

But that wasn't a story that needed telling. Not now.

"It's a long story, but let's say that Josh and I are their better half. When it comes to the ladies, at least."

Lola snorted. "Sure. I'll keep that in mind."

I actually couldn't help but smile.

Oh fuck. Fuck it all. Fuck all the Patricks and Mos and Aneils and Ethans and other twats like that. Fuck all the people who wanted to judge me for hanging out with people like Lola. Fuck 'em. She was nice, and I was going to hang out with her.

The waltz finally came to a halt, and couples oozed not the dance floor as a slightly more upbeat tune struck up.

Scanning the crowd for faces I knew, I realised I was right - that was Josh. And Amelie, standing next to him. Merlin, he was all lost in her eyes and looking soppy. And her— oh! That bitch! She was checking out the boys at the drinks table. Checking out Jake Andrews!? For fuck's sake — I should've said it earlier, I should've told him that she was bad news. Not that he'd listen really, but at least he'd be warier. Right now, he looks like a puppy staring up at its favourite human; he'd be wagging his tail furiously if he had one. It'd be pathetic if it weren't so tragic.

"What's up?"

"Oh," I was mercifully drawn away from watching the doomed couple by Lola, "nothing really. Sorry." I hadn't even asked her where her date was yet.

"You just seemed a little down."

I shrugged. Not like I could lie about it when it was true. "You're awfully perceptive. Y'know, you and Alfie would be good together. I'm not even sure he likes Sabrina that much."

Lola gave a snort that she tried to cover up with a cough, but I caught it nonetheless. And it was awfully suspicious. I narrowed my eyes and wondered what the hell she was thinking, but decided it wouldn't be worth pursuing. Not right now, anyway.

"Where's your date anyway?" I asked, as soon as she'd stopped laughing or coughing or choking or whatever the hell it was.

"He's over there." She gestured over to Alexander Wilkinson, who was dancing with some brunette that very much was not Lola.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "Why? Not like it's your fault. Anyway," she sighed, "I didn't like him that much. He was just the only one to ask me. Last week."

I shuffled slightly, feeling immensely awkward. What did I do now? I can't say I would've asked her, that would've been a lie. Can't say I would've gone with her as a friend, because I only wanted to go with Isabelle, in the end.

"Let's hang out then. As two date-less friends."

She smiled. "Alright. Want to get a drink?"

"Hopefully it's spiked."

She laughed, and I grinned. The night was already looking up.

"Want to join Isabelle and Harry? Paige might be there, too…"

I baulked. So maybe the night wasn't already looking up. She must've seen it on my face or something because she said, "really? This was all over Isabelle Oscar, huh?" She raised her brows. "I'm not surprised. The girl's amazing. Still, I get it."

"You do?"

"Yeah. It sucks to really like someone who never gives you any attention back."

I paused there, halfway across the Hall, a little longer. She watched me, searching for any clues as to what I might be thinking. I was half-thinking that she might be on about Alfie after all, and half-thinking that maybe, this was just the teenager's lot. I knew I could only really say one of those two things.

"Yeah," I forced on my best, cockiest, handsomest grin, "teenager's lot, huh?"

Lola didn't say much of anything until they made it over to the drinks table. Where Daniel-Fucking-Wood was standing, lauding it about like the utter wanker he was. It's a strange kind of phenomenon, watching someone younger than you be such a cocky, entitled, dickish little pillock. It's somehow way, way funnier and a lot less tolerable when the little shit's a full year below you.

Lola was about to say something, several words into a clearly delectable morsel of information when Daniel-Arsehole-Wood's stupid words floated over to me.

"I bet he drugged her, or, or cursed her or /something/. What kind of Death Eater little shit gets a girl like her to go out with him? My father told me that the sons of Death Eaters just have it in their blood to be bad—

"Oh you stupid CUNT." I whirled around, adrenaline fueling me before I knew. I completely lost my rag with the dick. Daniel Wood had been on thin ice for the last three months, and now it had fucking well melted.

There was a stunned silence at my colourful language, and the crowd inevitably turned to face me.

"Just leave Scorpius alone already, he's done nothing to you except show you up as an arsehole and actually be nice enough to get the girl you wanted. And just because the only way you could ever get a girl is through drugging them, doesn't mean its true for the rest of us."

"Oh go on then, where's your date, funny little boy?"

"'Little boy'? 'Little Boy'?! What are you, twelve?" I scoffed, rolling my eyes at the idiot. He looked like a six-year-old who'd unrepentantly got into trouble "You talk about your father like he's got all the wisdom in the world, but maybe your daddy shouldn't have raised such an entitled little shit. Not even your friends really like you, you're just easy to mindlessly be around."

"Oi, fuck off death-eater spawn." One of the minions around Daniel finally pipped up.

"Who the fuck even are you? I don't even know your name literally who are you?"

And he crawled away, tail between his legs.

"Leave my friends out of it, Flint."

"Then maybe you should leave my friend's names out of your mouth, too. You're not even worthy of speculating about them."

"I'm more than worthy of Death-Eater shits."

"No, you're not. You're not worthy of anyone whilst you're being such an utter wanker. Yeah, that's right, just crawl on back to your pathetic little home - off you go! No one wants you here!" I waved him off as he went, tail between his legs and lack of repentance in his heart, "oh, and stay the hell away from my friends!" I called after him, and stood there silent, panting, and waiting for the adrenaline to fade away.

Oh, I should do that more often. Really gets the heart going.

"Well, that was something," Lola said, suddenly appearing from beside me as the rest of the world faded back into focus.

"Oh. Shit. Forgot we're at the Ball." I ran a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling actually quite awkward for the first time in a while.

Something caught my eye, just past her shoulder. Some blonde guy, dashing out the hall. Weird. And then— that's Alfie, chasing after him. Even weirder.

But then I felt a clap on my shoulder, bringing me squarely back into reality. The music had changed into something more upbeat with decidedly less classical instruments.

"Nice one, mate."

"Hopefully he's finally put in his place."

"Good riddance, he was pestering my date."

"He's such a creep. I'm glad you really took him to task."

None of them really mattered, though. Not except for one.

"That was quite the show, there." No one else had a twang in their accent like her. "I didn't know if you were going to let him leave here alive or not."

Grinning a bit, I turned to see her there. Isabelle. "Isabelle!"

"Yep, that's me. Drink?" She offered one of the two glasses she was holding to me, still a slight smile on her lips.

"Sure. Thanks."

"You know, it was pretty brave what you did. Which is a lot, coming from a Gryffindor."

"Then I appreciate it even more."

"And especially coming from me." She looked down, tracing some invisible pattern on the floor with her deep brown eyes. "I thought it was pretty awesome, how you stood up for your friend like that."

"Thanks. But Scorpius deserves it, anyway. And Daniel Wood is just begging to be taken down a peg or two."

She raised her brows in agreement as she took a sip.

"So," I sighed, sweaty and nervous and completely forgetting how to human. "Uh— where's Harry?"

I hated asking, but the thought of her being ditched was almost as painful as the thought of her with Harry in the first place.

"Oh, him? He's off… somewhere. Honestly, he was just my safe choice so I don't really care."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Sure. There weren't any boys I really liked…. well, until recently, anyway."

And suddenly the sweatiness increased by a thousand-fold. "O-Oh?" Usually, I could flirt like a total pro. But now, the tables were completely turned.

"Of course. Who'd ya think it is?" She tilted her head a little to the left and smiled and her wonderful eyes sparkled.

Oh, Merlin.

Taking me by the hand we left our drinks on the table and she pulled me over to the dance floor.

Fuck Joshua's weird girlfriend. Fuck Scorpius' protection squad, and Alfie's strange behaviour. I knew that night was going to be the best night of my life. And it bloody well was.

Midlands Slang Dictionary:

Mardy - essentially having your knickers in a twist

Wassock - basically a wanker

There may be other slang I've used that I'm unaware is slang because apparently I was born sprouting it, lul.

So what did you guys think of Max? I think he's very much a person-in-progress type character. Not that I have written him well (I hope...?) But that he's kind of intensely maturing right now. Well, who isn't at age 16?

Who do you guys think is next? Let me know in your review!

Please review if you've got time, and follow for more. Thanks!