Chapter 14 - Slug Club Debacle
Now, as the end of my fourth year at Hogwarts is approaching, only two things come to mind; exams and the notorious Slug Club. And, alas, I’ve been dreading them both. For a moment, I thought I’d escaped the latter, considering Slughorn hasn’t been in his normal, chipper mood. He still fancies seeing me, of course, but who wouldn’t? Good thing you can’t answer that.
I wouldn’t have had any inclination that Slughorn was throwing his annual end-of-the-year bash. Normally, when he’s about to orchestrate some sort of event involving myself, Severus Snape, loads of other prats, and plenty of alcoholic beverages (consumed by him and him alone, of course), you’ll notice a significant change in not only his appearance, but the atmosphere around him.
But this year, he caught me completely off guard.
There were no signs this year. There was no hint of the usual mustache twitching, the jelly belly laugh we’ve all become accustomed to. Nope, no warning at all. I suppose he was going for the element of surprise because immediately after I received my invitation, he sort of sprung out of nowhere and practically jumped on my back. To say the least, I’m scarred for life.
I’m not even sure if I want to attend this stupid party anyways. They’re always so bothersome. I mean, I have to dress up, I have to make nice with all the arrogant Fabios of the school, and then, worst of all, I have to deal with the endless taunting of the Marauders.
Yes, I scribbled down the word Marauders. That stupid word is bound to end with some sort of embarrassment, harassment, and/or annoyance. This case is surely no exception.
You see, out of four Marauders, none have been offered the chance to attend one of Slughorn’s parties. Sirius would probably be the most likely out of the four to even be considered, but he ruined his chances by smashing one of Slughorn’s pineapples against the wall back in first year. Poor bloke has received the cold shoulder ever since.
So, to shorten things up a bit, they’re jealous. Not only have I been invited, I’ve been greeted with open arms into every single one of Slughorn’s events. And, even worst, Snape gets invited every year as well. Puts a damper in their egos, to tell you the truth. And that is normally enough incentive for me to go.
So, I think I will.
Whoever’s idea it was for me to attend this stupid party was a complete moron, I tell you. All hell has broken loose in my dorm room and right now, Holly’s chasing me around with a spare Beater’s bat she picked up off of the ground. Honestly, it wasn’t until she did so that I started considering whether the shape of my head really did resemble a bludger. Thanks for the boost in self-esteem, Hol.
You see, this afternoon immense, immeasurable boredom struck and I thought to myself, “Why don’t I give Jules a bath? It’s only been three hours since her last and I certainly don’t want her to develop some sort of dandruff problem.” So, since she absolutely hates water, I had to crank the water temperature up really, really high in order for her to sit still. And even then, she wouldn’t let me properly bathe her.
Well, I was later enlightened into the fact that cats don’t need baths. They clean themselves. To which, yes, I scrunched up my nose and muttered, “Why on Earth would they do that?” Holly explained that it was in their nature. And all these years I’ve been forcing my precious darling into a tub of scalding hot water for nothing.
When it came time for me to take a shower, I was mid-shampoo and abruptly, the water just stopped. Well, it didn’t just stop. It made a brief, ear-shattering noise and then it abruptly shut off. Apparently, the house elves are rather mad at me due to the amount of hot water I’ve been using. I’ve slowed down their progress on tomorrow’s breakfast by using so much hot water and now, they’re penalizing me for my actions.
I won’t include the brief note, but I can say that those house elves sure do know how to use their profanities.
There I was, in my fluffy white robe, with shampoo just clustered randomly in my hair, and no water to wash it out. A few girls made empty threats towards Jules because I guess they were planning on using the shower later on tonight to get ready for their dates.
I, personally, don’t see the big deal in any of this. I mean, Sirius Black must shower six times a day and the house elves still don’t get mad at him. Those house elves are sexist, I tell you.
After much exasperation, a few tears, and several of our own profanities, me and Holly cooked up a great way to remove the shampoo. Magic! Yes, I know, rather obvious. But, we don’t work well under pressure.
So, now, I have curlers in my hair and my head is starting to itch and Holly’s chasing me around with a Beater’s bat because, I guess, I’m not supposed to be scratching at my head.
This night better damn well send the Marauders overboard if I’ve gone through so much personal sacrifice!
Constructed by Lily Evans
Commentary by Holly Spinnet
Option 001 -- I could go with a simple, but elegant black dress. It’s long, goes to my ankles, and was given to me by my demented grandmother.
This is going to be a party, not a funeral, Lily. Try again.
Option 002 -- I have this spunky chicken costume stored away in my trunk in case of emergencies. I could be the belle of the ball, you know, if I showed up in a chicken costume. People would be raving all night, “Cheeky Lily Evans, she can really pull off the feathers.”
I really don’t want to know what kind of emergency would require a chicken costume. And I doubt cheeky would be the word they’d be using to describe the person inside of the chicken costume.
Point well taken. Option 003 -- I have a rather fetching poncho I could wear. It’s colorful, comfortable, and classy. Alliteration is my friend, Hol. And since the poncho inhabits alliteration, it is thus coined my friend, as well.
Never, and I mean never, use the words poncho and classy in my presence again. Have I taught you nothing?
Pft, ponchos are classy. You just have horrible taste. Option 004 -- Nothing! I could go stark naked if I really wanted to, which I don’t. That’d be gross. It is an option though.
Option 005 -- A boring old summer dress with a boring old cardigan. Happy?
Lily, face it, you work boring well. The cardigan is calling you. Embrace it.
So, the night was not fun. Not fun in the least. I swear to god, if I decide to walk around with a bag over my head for the next three years of my life, you’ll know why.
So, I decided to go with the fifth option, embracing the boredom. As soon as I arrived, I could see that I’d gone with the right choice. I swear, I could already tell that I’d be going out of my mind.
I even made a nifty little list on my cocktail napkin that I shall cleverly insert into you, diary.
Because This Party Blows
001) Knitting -- We all know I’ve just grown into it. Actually, I’m still horrible and I always manage to mutilate my fingers, but it’d still be better than this party.
002) Running over hot coals -- I’m sure it’d hurt, but at least I wouldn’t be mistaken for a borderline narcoleptic.
003) Giving Jules a bath -- And we know how well that works out.
004) Duking it out with those blasted house elves -- I really would like to give them a piece of my mind. For the rest of the year, I’m going to be worrying about whether they’ve poisoned my food.
005) Talking to the wall -- Hey, I can actually do that here!
Even my mind had started to lull into a lethargic state. I couldn’t even come up with any clever things to do. I was beginning to contemplate whether I should actually spark conversation up with the wall or whether I should just dart over to the punch and hope someone had spiked it.
I went with the latter because I didn’t want to be remembered as a literal wallflower.
I really did have some interactions. Slughorn came up to me and introduced me to some snooty lad with excessive gray nose hair. I don’t know what the bloke did, what his name was, or anything he may have said because, well, I was too preoccupied looking at the appalling nose hair. I didn’t even know it could get that long.
Just as Slughorn was saying something or another to that nose-hair lad, I heard someone burst in through the entrance way and, of course, I knew the party wasn’t going to be boring any longer.
Sirius Black and James Potter, two of the pureblooded crowd’s finest, had emerged. Seeing as the party was mainly composed of Slytherin, you heard several hissing sounds coming from one, distinct area. I don’t know what it is with the hissing, but I guess they all do it.
“Slug!” Sirius cheered, a bottle of fire whiskey in his extremely underage hand. Why is it he gets to have all the fun? “Thought we’d just stroll in and give our salutations.”
Obviously, everyone was watching Black with a sense of curious astonishment. It took us all awhile to comprehend exactly what was going on. I mean, it wasn’t everyday that a Slug Club party got crashed. They were normally complete snooze fests, hence my comatose state.
It only took me seconds to realize exactly why Sirius was being so obnoxious; he was diverting attention from his oh-so-clever friend. Yep, one minute I was listening to Sirius Black apologize for the pineapple incident back in first year and the next I felt James Potter tapping me on my shoulder and grinning at me like a fool.
“Hello, Evans,” he said brightly. He didn’t appear to be drunk, unlike his good friend. I suppose Black took one for Team Potter. Of course, this plan was so transparent to me. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Potter, you knew I was going to be here,” I reminded him, my tone anything but polite. I was completely frosty and now, I’m not too sad about it. “I told you about it in detention.”
“Ah, yes, our last detention,” he recalled. We’d had our last detention the previous week and now, we no longer had to attend. McGonagall was under the distinct impression that we could all get along and play nicely now. I’d never considered that woman oblivious to anything, but honestly, Potter and Snape? Potter and myself? Snape and I? We all despised one another. Well, Potter doesn’t despise me, but the feeling is not mutual.
“About that,” he proceeded, leading into what I knew was bound to happen. “We won’t be seeing each other all that much anymore, I suppose, which shall make it harder for us to stay friends.”
“We’re not friends,” I told him quickly, making my way over to the punch bowl and downing a glass in annoyance. Why didn’t he just cut to the chase? Always had to skirt around everything. Potter had to be the biggest girl I’ve ever met aside from Logan Johnson.
“Oh, I know,” he assured me, following my rapid feet and leaning against the table awkwardly. He was fourteen. There is nothing suave about being fourteen. “I was just hoping that maybe you’d consider spending some time with me outside of detention? In Hogsmeade, perhaps. Over the summer, even.”
“I don’t think you understood,” Potter told me blatantly, panic rising in his eyes. It was rather enjoyable to see his pupils dilate. Did he really expect another answer? It’s not like I’ve been leading him on. “I was asking you out. To be my girlfriend.”
“I got that.”
“And your answer’s still no?” he asked in disbelief, his mouth hanging agape.
For a moment there, he stood in a state of shock. I really wasn’t too fond of watching the grieving process take place, so I quickly rushed off to the opposite side of the room.
James Potter is really brainless sometimes. I mean, I felt sort of bad about letting him down, but then I reminded myself that it was Potter. James Potter was a boy who’d made my life hell since the beginning of this year. I don’t know how it works with him and other girls, but I really don’t find anything remotely cute about him embarrassing me year-round.
And, here I was thinking the night couldn’t get any worst. I guess I tend to be brainless sometimes, as well. That was before James Potter decided to scream his bloody lungs out to the entire party. Stupid, stupid, stupid git.
“Let’s give a round of applause for couple of the year, Lily Evans and Severus Snape!”
The Snape material had honestly gotten old, I tell you. And that, diary, is where I justify the punch he received from me. And no, I’m not talking about the beverage either.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Oh, and since this question has been posed on other sites, Lily didn't know that cats don't need baths because she's rather oblivious. She needs to start paying attention to things more often, huh? Hope you enjoyed! Please review. The next chapter is the last chapter of the first installment of the four parts I have planned. Please review.
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