'But baby running after you is like chasing the clouds.' - One Direction, Story Of My Life

I lean on the wall and tap my foot on the stone floor impatiently.

Where is she? Why the hell does it take girls so long to get ready?

Fifteen minutes later, I am still in the same spot in the Entrance Hall, but now sitting on the floor against the wall, looking up girls' skirts as they walk past on their way to Hogsmeade.

Hey, most of them aren't complaining! One cheeky bird scowled at me and her boyfriend flipped me off, but another hitched her skirt up higher to give me a better view. Godric, it's at times like this that I love being Hogwarts's resident playboy.

"Hey, Al." A sugar sweet voice lifts me out of my inner complaint about fit girls wearing loose jeans.

I look up to see Betsy, my date for the day, wearing a flowery bandeau that shows off her tits nicely, a fluorescent mini skirt so bright it hurts my eyes, dangerously high stilettos, and black fishnet stockings. I'm not even going to comment on the stripper heels, but fishnet stockings. In bloody October. She could rival Rose for the title of sluttiest in the school, and that's saying something. Scratch that, no one could outdo Rose.

Don't worry, it's not an insult; my crazy cousin takes it as a compliment.

I stand up, flashing my famed charm smile at Betsy, and we walk out of the Entrance Hall together.

Betsy loops her arm through mine and presses her curves into my side, asking me about Quidditch as we stroll down to Hogsmeade. I suddenly remember exactly why I dated her two years ago.

We find a small table in Madam Puddifoots and sip pink tea with delicious pink biscuits as the topic of conversation changes from me to my dad. I suddenly remember exactly why I dumped her two years ago.

I stand up quickly, throwing money onto the table, and guide Betsy out of the pink heaven, eager to change the subject of conversation.

We make for Honeydukes, the place to go when you're bored of your date, and I unwillingly give Betsy my (so frikkin' warm) sheepskin leather jacket when she shivers with cold. Laughter spills out of the Three Broomsticks as we walk past it, and Betsy tries to pull me into the tempting heat of the packed pub. I give in, annoyed but seeking warmth, and we make for the door until I catch sight of the girl I have been trying so hard to avoid today. Ria and James are walking out of the pub, and I smile unconsciously when I see her wearing bright yellow knee-high socks over blue leggings, with a long loose white t-shirt, completely unaffected by the chill Scottish wind (because she can cast a pretty great Warming Charm, something I now regret never bothering to learn).

As I watch her laugh at something James says, something in my stomach drops unpleasantly, and I am about to march over with Betsy and break up their date (yes, it damn well looks like a date to me), when she tugs James to a halt, looking anxiously at something over his shoulder.

I follow her gaze to Hogsmeade Station, outside of which Scor and Rose are standing, arguing loudly.

Shit.

Ria says something to James apologetically, and he nods, pulls her into a hug (the slick bastard), and kisses her on the head, before heading back into the Three Broomsticks.

She runs over to Scor and Rose, with me hot on her heels, leaving Betsy flirting with a horny Hufflepuff outside Honeydukes.

When we skid to a halt a few yards away, I take in Rose's appearance, shocked. She's wearing boots, skinny jeans, a cute blouse, and a cardigan, in a sweet ensemble totally uncharacteristic of my slaggy cousin. Scor looks hot in a denim shirt and cords, rightfully so as I know he spent at least an hour choosing an outfit this morning. The poor dude was so nervous about this date; he wanted everything to be perfect.

But something clearly went wrong, as Rose is yelling at him, red in the face and gesturing wildly.

"ONE HOUR!" she screeches. Godric, girl, turn the bleedin' volume down. "WE SPENT ONE HOUR IN HOGSMEADE STATION, WATCHING TRAINS!"

"WELL YOU DIDN'T FUCKING TELL ME WHAT YOU WANTED TO DO!" he screams back.

Ria quickly casts Muffliato around us to deflect the curious onlookers.

"SO YOU THOUGHT YOU WOULD TAKE ME TO SPINTWITCHES?! YOU KNOW I HATE SPORT!"

"BUT I BLOODY LIKE QUIDDITCH!"

"SO? YOU THINK EVERYONE SHOULD PITY YOU BECAUSE YOUR DAD WAS A STUPID DEATH EATER, BUT WAKE UP! IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT YOU, MALFOY!"

That was a low blow, Rose. Even I wouldn't say shit like that to Scor.

His eyes widen, but he recovers quickly and his expression turns hard. "SO YOU'D PREFER IF I TOOK YOU TO PUDDIFOOTS?!"

"NO! I'M NOT AL, I HATE PUDDIFOOTS!"

Woah, what's wrong with Madam Puddifoots? I love the cosy, friendly little pink-obsessed café.

"THEN WHERE SHOULD I HAVE FUCKING TAKEN YOU?!"

"I DON'T KNOW; YOU ASKED ME ON THIS DATE."

"WELL MAYBE I SHOULDN'T HAVE!"

"FINE! IF THAT'S HOW YOU FEEL, THIS IS OVER, EEJIT!" Rose yells, and storms away, fuming.

Scor watches her go, as the anger visibly leaves him and he suddenly sways on his feet. Ria and I rush over to him, and she hugs him tightly. "Babe, it's okay. Take a deep breath."

He closes his eyes and hangs onto her, steadying himself.

"Mate, what was that? You took her to Spintwitches and the Station?"

"Yeah." He says. "I just panicked. I wanted to take her somewhere special, but I guess I chose the wrong places."

"You can say that again." I roll my eyes.

Ria shoots me a Look and slips Scor's arm over her shoulders, winding her arm around his waist. "Al, if you're not gonna be helpful, get back to your stupid date."

I sigh, realising I may have been a tad rude. "Sorry. What can I do?"

"Get Emma. She's in the Three Broomsticks. Tell her that Rose is upset. I'll get Scor back up to the castle."

And then she turns and leaves, slowly walking with Scor back up to Hogwarts.

Once I've sent Emma out to deal with Rose, I apologise to Betsy for leaving her so abruptly, and we finish our date by buying sweets from Honeydukes and trying on obscene clothes in Gladrags.

We head back up to the castle at half past 6 when the sky turns dark, and I give her a chaste kiss goodbye in the common room. We both knew that we weren't going to date each other again; for me this day was just to make Ria jealous (which didn't work), and for her it was a chance to have some damn sexy arm candy again.

When I get back up to the dorm, Scor isn't there, but I assume he's with Ria. However, Josh is, carefully draping a blue cape over himself in front of the mirror.

I try to ignore him, but then I notice what he's wearing.

"Why the fuck are you wearing a jumpsuit, Thompson? It makes your twig legs look even skinnier."

Then Aaron walks out of the bathroom in a leather thong.

Godric, I changed my mind. I want some of that fresh meat. Rough love, here I come.

He grins when he notices me looking him over. "Like what you see, Potter?"

"Fuck yes. Care to join me for the evening, Levitt?"

"No can do. I'm going to the party."

Ah, yes. The Halloween party. But it still doesn't explain why he's half-naked. I say as much and he smirks.

"The theme this year is to dress as something you're not. So I'm dressing as a stripper, because, obviously, I'm not a stripper."

"I can change that." I wink and slip my hand in my jeans seductively.

He shakes his head at me amusedly and walks out of the dorm. What a pity.

I turn back to Josh. "I'm guessing you're going as a stripper too, Thompson?"

"N-no." He stutters. "I'm a superhero."

"Well, that's definitely something you're not." I turn away from him and open my wardrobe.

"Wh-what are you going as, Al?"

Is he still here?

"Don't call me Al, Thompson, I'm too cool for you to be on first-name terms with me. And now I'm trying to decide what to wear, so scram."

He nods, scared, and runs out of the room, cape billowing out behind him.

Weirdo.

I scowl at my wardrobe consisting of ripped skinny jeans, faded band t-shirts, leather jackets, and trainers. They all scream me.

I slowly turn to contemplate Scor's wardrobe. I walk over and fling it open. Carefully ironed shirts, polo-shirts, chinos, slacks and ties look back at me. Hell to the no.

I then browse through Sander's wardrobe. T-shirts, shirts, jeans, trousers; this is more like it.

"Al. What are you doing?"

I freeze, a cord jacket in my hand and spin around to face Lysander.

"Mate. I…was…checking that Thompson's pygmy puff hadn't eaten your socks."

"Josh's pygmy puff died last week from an overdose of your cologne."

Oh. That may have been why Josh was sobbing all last week.

"Fine." So much for my bullshitting skills. I throw the jacket back into his wardrobe. "For the party we have to dress as something we're not, and I don't know what to wear."

He grins. "Just borrow some of Scor's stuff."

"But it's all collars and shit. I only wear collars when mum forces me to."

Don't laugh; my mum can be really scary when she wants to be.

He rolls his eyes. "Fine mate, but you're not going to be let into the party unless you're in the dress code."

"Fuck. What did Scor wear?"

"He took a pair of your jeans and borrowed his dad's old Quidditch jersey from Ria. He's going as a Slytherin Seeker."

"Oh fuck this shit." I pull out a random pair of chinos, and a shirt from Scor's wardrobe. "I'm going to look like an idiot."

"Hate to disagree with you Al, but you actually look good." Lysander eyes me after I get changed.

I wave him away. "Why aren't you dressed?"

He's just wearing a black shirt and black jeans. "I got lucky. James said I could be the bartender." The git shrugs.

"You douchebag. I'm bloody jealous." I throw a pillow at him.

Lysander laughs, Vanishing the pillow before it hits him, and follows me out of the dorm.

We meet a load of people along the way to the Room, dressed so unlike themselves that I hardly recognise most of them. We are granted entrance to the Room, and Lysander immediately disappears to man the bar, after threatening to kick me out of the party if I spike the punch.

Too bad, mate. My bet is that James or Fred has already poured a bucket-load of alcohol into it.

I look around. Cobwebs, pumpkins and sheets meant to look like ghosts decorate the walls and ceilings. The Room is dark, and full of people, and I can just about make out the mass of students on the dance floor jumping around to the pulsing music.

I spot Emma by the couches at the edge of the party, and make my way over to her.

"Hey babe. You look gorgeous."

And she does. Emma's wearing decent leather shorts and a floaty top, unlike her usual outfit of a cute dress or a pretty skirt and blouse.

She blushes. "I borrowed these from Ria."

"Seriously? I have never seen Ria wear those shorts."

She smiles. "There's so much stuff in her wardrobe that she's never worn. I think she collects clothes for fun."

I laugh. Sounds like the Ria I know.

But then Emma's expression turns serious and she tugs me closer. "I'm worried about Rose. She hasn't drunk a drop of alcohol since we got here."

Knowing my cousin as I do, that's certainly something to be worried about.

I look past Emma to the ginger slouched next to her staring at the floor.

"She's even wearing the same outfit she was earlier." Emma says anxiously.

"No wonder they let her in here." I mock.

Emma pushes me lightly. "Be serious, Al."

I very maturely stick my tongue out at her.

She giggles. "Wait 'till you see Ria. She looks hot, as you would say."

"Speaking of which, where is she?" I look around the party for the Scor's ice-blond hair, as I know there's not a chance in hell of spotting Ria's ebony locks in the dark.

Emma shrugs. "I'm a bit worried about that too. She came into the dorm an hour ago to get changed and then left for the party, but when Rose and I got here, we couldn't see her anywhere. And Scor is nowhere to be seen either. They're usually singing on the bar by now."

I stand up. I'm not in the mood for a rave anyway. "I'll go find them."

"I'll come with you."

I turn in surprise to find my cousin with a firm hand around my wrist, holding my gaze determinedly. "I want to apologise to Scor."

Rose 'I'm-always-right' Weasley never apologises.

I grin at her for what is probably the first time in years. "Come on then, bitch."