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“OF ALL THAT IS HOLY MOTHERFUCKING FUCK, WHERE THE BLOODY HELL, FOR THE LOVE OF SATAN DID I PUT THAT GODFORSAKEN FUCKING HAIRBRUSH?!” Penny winced and ducked into the bathroom to avoid the hurricane that was Dominique Weasley, whilst I decided to face the storm head on and grabbed the hairbrush from the floor, tossing it in her general direction and hoping that her Quidditch skills would kick in before the brush seriously marred the wall.

“FOUND YOU, YOU BUGGERING LITTLE MOTHERFUCKER. YOU’VE BEEN HIDING FROM ME, YOU LITTLE SHIT.” Dom screamed at the brush, and Penny poked her head out of the bathroom to exchange startled glances with me.

Screaming at an inanimate object is a new low, even for Dommie.

And hey, maybe you’re thinking ‘well she needs to rush, the party is clearly quite soon and she hasn’t even brushed her hair’. Well, I say screw you, and would like to point out that the party isn’t for nine hours. NINE – BLOODY – HOURS.

It’s a freaking pisstake, that’s what it is.

Dom dragged the brush through a few of her golden curls, and then practically sprinted across the room to the bathroom, screaming about how she had to brush her teeth or she would just die.

“This is going to be a long day.” Penny sighed, dropping onto the bed next to me and wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug.

“A very long day.” I emphasised.


“BLOODY HELL DOM, WHAT DID YOU JUST DO TO MY ARM? I THINK YOU’VE BROKEN IT!” Penny shrieked, clutching her arm to her chest and gaping at a manic looking Dom.

And why was Dom manic looking, I hear you ask. Well, because the party is in two hours, and due to the major spaz attack she just had (which resulted in the near breaking of Penny’s arm) she looks even more demented than normal. Half of her hair has been curled, whilst the other half is just the usual tousled waves, she has three pair of false eyelashes on one eye, and none on the other, and she is tottering around in athletic shorts, a tank top, a feather boa and one heel.

I, on the other hand, was lying on the bed, looking the epitome of cool. Well, as cool as you can look when you have your foot stuck in the air and you’re lying flat on your back, attempting to paint your toenails.

Penny was hopping around the room clutching her arm, glaring at Dom and trying to squeeze her feet into a pair of skyscraper heels and put on mascara without a mirror.

I’m not even going to feel sorry for her when she stabs herself in the eyeball.

“OW! MY BLOODY EYE!” Like I said, I don’t feel sorry for her at all. Does that make me cold hearted? Eh. I am currently searching for a shit to give.


“LAST HALF AN HOUR GIRLS, WE HAVE TO MOVE – MOVE – MOVE!” Dom screamed, legging it out of the bathroom in her knickers, a tank top and a different heel on the opposite foot to before. The only difference was that both sides of her hair were now curled, and she had false eyelashes on both sides of her face.

Penny was struggling to pry her fingers apart after accidently sticking them together with her nail glue, and I was attempting a couple of spells on my legs to make them appear more tan.

“How are you two so calm?” Dom shrieked after a while, looking like she wanted to run her hands through her hair but stopped herself at the last minute.

“Because we’re not mad psycho bints.” Penny commented mildly, shrugging as though she had made a generic comment about the weather. “And we have actually managed to grasp the concept that it is only a party.”

Dom yelped and pointed at Penny as though she had just said something completely blasphemous.

“Do not say that! I may meet my handsome Prince Charming tonight and live happily ever after!” Dom protested, and Penny rolled her eyes.

“Well, I’ve already got mine, so I’m alright.” She grinned as she headed over to the bathroom again. Honestly, the girl must have a bladder the size of a fucking pea.

“I’m sorry, did she really just say what I think she just said?” I snorted, and Dom grinned at me.

“I can hear you, you know!” Penny yelled from the bathroom, and we both had the decency to look abashed as she stuck her head around the door – with an oh-so-sexy toothbrush stuck in her gob – to glare at the pair of us.


“Last ten minutes, ladies! Come on, we can do this!” Dom yelled, running backwards and forwards to collect things from the bathroom at such a rapid rate that I nearly got a fucking whiplash.

She failed to notice that Penny and I were already ready, sitting on my bed having a thumb war.

Yeah, I’m wild like that.

“Buggering hell, Penny, your false nails hurt!” I yelled as her thumb dug into mine, the nail spearing my skin like some kind of fucking sword. Surely there must be some kind of human rights rules against selling nails that could probably kill people.

“Not my fault you suck at thumb wars, babe.” She smirked. I hate the bitch sometimes.

Another eight minutes passed, and Dom became more and more frantic with each passing second, abandoning the mirror entirely and bronzing her face with a brush bigger than a fucking hamster whilst running around the room in search of her spare hairspray.

Did I mention that she has already gone through three cans?

She doesn’t even use most of it, she just sprays it in the air and then walks through it so that her ‘entire body has complete protection and hold-ability’. I don’t even want to know what goes through that girl’s mind.

The second hand anti-climactically approached the crack of nine o’clock, and in the last few seconds before it reached the top, Dom froze.

She watched the hand reach the twelve, sighed, and then sank down on the end of my bed.

“Well, we have about fifteen minutes now. We can’t show up on time for the party, that’s just sad. Maybe I should get started on that Transfig essay for next week.”



“Alright, it’s twenty past. Want to head down?” Penny eventually said, hauling herself off my bed and then staggering sideways as she lost control of the ridiculous heels she was in. It’s so odd, seeing 5’ 4’’ Penny so tall. But hey, I’ll just take it in my stride, like the boss I am.

She looked gorgeous tonight, there was no denying it - in a short, backless black dress and tall heels, her long brown hair straight down to her waist and expert makeup that Dom had forced on her by sitting on her legs until she gave in – she could have passed for a supermodel.

Well bully for her.

And my morale was only boosted as Dom skipped up next to her in a short blue jumpsuit, her blonde hair curled down her back and her legs looking like freaking lampposts in silver stilettos. I scowled and stalked to the full length mirror that Dom just had to have.

I went to yank my top up a little, but a strangled-yet-still-somehow-oddly-threatening yell from the opposite side of the room told me that Dom would most likely rip my tonsils out for trying.

Flipping charming.

Somehow Dom had managed to search through the deep pits of the mess I call a wardrobe to find the rubbish pile that I had thrown the bra she got me last Christmas onto. I’m not being funny, but the only person who ever sees me in a bra is James, and he would take the piss out of me for wearing a black push up bra studded with nearly one hundred crystals.

It pushes my boobs up to my bloody chin, almost.

Pair it with the high waisted booty shorts; see through blouse and stripper heels, it would not be a stretch to say that I was a little less than a happy bunny. Dom gets very violent when she doesn’t get her own way, and I would like to point out she was holding a curling iron at the time.

Didn’t want that lodged up my nostril, tar very much.

“Let’s go.” I eventually grumbled. I can’t even run my motherfucking hands through my motherfucking hair because Dom has waved it with some other boiling metal stick.

“Party in USAAAAA!” Dom warbled as she rocked her hips, strutting down the staircase with what she fondly likes to think of as ‘swagger’. I tried not to gag at her word choice.

“...we’re in England.”


When the three of us managed to totter around half the motherfucking castle, including three staircases of death and so many fucking corridors that I think my toes may have shrank back into my fucking heels, we reached the door to the Room of Requirement.

Penny leaned against the wall and whimpered in relief, grabbing one of her feet and trying to give it a massage through her shoes, and Dom started jogging up and down in front of the door. How she can do that in those shoes is beyond me.

Eventually the door appeared, and seizing one of our hands each, Dom yanked us through the door.

After letting Dom dressed me up like some kind of black-haired Barbie doll and choose my outfit without too much of an argument, I had forgotten all about a certain someone who would not be happy to see my outfit tonight.

I was only reminded as I was greeted by the sound of their roar.



Dom just laughed her tinkling-Veela laugh and pulled me past him, heading over to where the three lads were sitting by the bar.

Scorpius was not finished, however. He always has issues with my clothes at parties – I could probably show up in a snow suit and he would yell at me for showing my nose.

And you think I’m exaggerating.

He followed after us, staggering slightly – seriously, it’s been twenty minutes. How much has he had to drink? – and glaring at my back as though he hoped my clothes would magically transfigure into something a little more respectable.

No such luck, Scorpy my boy.

“Ah! You finally decided to show up!” Fred cried, leaping out of his seat and spilling some smoking liquid onto the floor in the process.

“And the sky is blue. Are we just stating obvious facts for funsies, or is there a reason for it?” Dom sassed, rolling her eyes and grabbing the plastic cup from James’ hand and downing it one.

She then tossed the empty cup onto the floor like the little litterbug that she is.

“Hello girls.” Connor said quietly, glancing up and down Dom’s outfit with a giant, appreciative smile on his face, a cup of what looked like alcohol already in his hand.

Well, looks like Connor is getting drunk sooner than expected tonight. Huh. Guess it’s going to be Penny and I playing the lonely spinsters for tonight. Great. It’s fun to look like a killjoy and a loner at the same time.

“Fancy a drink?” James asked, holding out a bottle of some clear liquid, nodding towards the three of us. Dom accepted whilst Penny and I declined. Typical.


“Have you seen Dom?” I asked Penny curiously. She shook her head, fiddling with a few strands of her hair absentmindedly, her heels kicked off and her long legs stretched out onto the pouffe in front of her.

“I saw her disappear with some Ravenclaw a while back – I haven’t seen her since.” How typical of Dom. We’ve only been here for an hour and she’s already staked her claim on some poor, unsuspecting bloke. Not that he’ll see it that way – he’ll think he’s won the lottery.

Glancing up through my eyelashes I saw Connor twisting with some blonde bint from the year below, and Fred sitting on a couch surrounded by three giggling girls.

I know for a fact that none of them would be there if his last name didn’t rhyme with Freasley.

But it was the last person I saw the knocked the breath out of my lungs – which I don’t think is medically safe, by the way. James was grinding with one particularly pretty girl, right in the middle of the dancefloor.

Her head was tipped back, her red hair spilling onto his shoulder and her lips skimming his earlobe as she whispered something.

James grinned, and leaned down to press his lips against the hollow of her throat, his hands moving lower down on her hips. My stomach clenched uncomfortably – you know what they say, Potters love redheads.

I glared at a few of the inky black waves that were resting on my chest.

“Alright, babe?” A deep voice asked, and before I could even think about cursing the heavens for putting me in this position, Kane Owen had sat his (...alright, rather attractive) arse on the armrest of my seat.

On the armrest. Of. My. Seat.

How the fuck do I manage to get myself into these situations?

“Hey, love.” Penny smiled, slipping her heels back on and pushing herself out of her seat. Kane grinned and slapped her arse – insert gag here – before grabbing her hand and pulling her to the bar.

Huh. Guess the pathway to Lonerdom begins here, then.

“It takes more muscles to frown than to smile, you know.” A voice slurred, and I looked up to see James (sans the slutty redhead) smirking at me, another drink in his hand and his whole body swaying slightly.

“And I’m going to have a liver that works by the time I’m forty.” I shot back, narrowing my eyes at him slightly.

“Alright, what’s your fucking problem?” James snapped – the angry effect marred slightly by the fact that he could barely keep his words separate – dropping (well, more like staggering) into the seat next to me and turning to me with a distasteful expression on his face.

“I don’t have a problem.” I shrugged, taking another sip of my rum-and-coke-minus-the-rum through my crazy straw.

Yes, you heard correctly, I’m drinking through a crazy straw. It’s red.

And yes, I am aware that most people stop using them when they turn six, but I say fuck them, because they make something as generic and boring as drinking a lot more fun.

“Oh fucking hell – is this because I was dancing with that girl over there?” He asked, flicking his arm slightly in the direction of the dancefloor.

I raised an eyebrow coolly, a thoroughly disinterested expression set on my face.

“You were dancing with someone?” I said, my words dripping with surprise. James shot me a glare that quite clearly told me not to waste my time – he had seen me watching them.

What the fuck is the point in being a good actress if I can’t even get myself out of situations like this?

“Summer,” His tone was different this time, softer – it sounded sweeter, even though the words were still mushed together and he was mumbling through his teeth, “you know I would have asked you to dance – I’d much rather be with you. But you’re the one always saying we have to keep up appearances – fucking appearances.”

I smiled at him slightly and shrugged.

“Go and dance, James.” I chuckled, already feeling a little uncomfortable. I’m not really the heart-to-heart kind of person. I’m more of a ‘skate around the subject until it comes back and bites you on the arse’ kind of person.

“Yeah, I will,” He said, stumbling up from his chair and leaning his hand against the wall for a little support, “with you, though.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I don’t dance.”

“You can start.” And with that, James grabbed hold of my hand and dragged me into the middle of the dancefloor, throwing my arms around his neck and pushing my head down onto his chest.

He was swaying in a way that was completely out with the music, but he didn’t seem to care. With a throaty chuckle, he grabbed hold of my hand and thrust it above my head, spinning me around in a huge twirl, my hair flying out in a circle and damn near slapping him across the face.

“James, what are you doing?” I giggled, but he just shrugged, laughing along with me.

The next song came on – this one was even faster, the thumping beat travelling along the floor, making everything on it shake and bounce in time. It blasted around the whole room, practically deafening me – but I didn’t care.

James also didn’t seem to care about the blasting rap song, because sweeping me up into a ballroom dancing stance; he proceeded to waltz us around the room – admittedly with a lot of drunken stumbling on his part.

“You complete freak –” I started, but I was cut off my James bowing me down into a dip so low that my hair fanned out on the floor, before he pulled me back to his chest and spun me around a few more times.

I glanced sideways and saw Connor smirking at me from a couch in the corner, his eyes narrowed slightly, as though he knew something no one else did.

I grinned at him and he winked, the smirk on his face growing wider as he did so.

Wrapping my arms around James neck and resting my head on his shoulder – he had pulled me closer for a slow song – I glanced in the other direction, in time to see Penny and Kane darting through it, both laughing.

Something clenched in my stomach again.

I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against the side of James’ neck, smiling as he lightly kissed the side of my throat.

Really lovely moment? Check. So what do we need right now? Oh yeah, a lovely moment wrecker.

“Well, this does look cosy.” A voice snapped from next to me, and I pulled my head of James’ neck to glare at Kyle, who was standing next to us with a beer clutched in his hand and his teeth bared in classic I-think-I’m-the-alpha-male pose.

“Fuck off, Davies.” James snapped, not even bothering to turn around.

Funny, here was me thinking you two were just friends. You look a little more than friendly right now, if you get what I’m saying.” Kyle’s eyes were still narrowed at the back of James’ head.

“Sorry, are you deaf as well as fucking stupid? I said FUCK – OFF.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to hap-” Kyle was cut off by a third voice, a voice I have never been happier to hear in my entire life.

“Sorry dickhead, is there something you want to say to my cousin?”

Scorpius stood behind him, his eyes narrowed into slits and his arms crossed over his broad chest.

A little of the alcohol-induced colour in Kyle’s cheeks drained into his neck.

“Because as far as I’m concerned, I would much rather have Summer dancing with her best friend than the fucking sleazy arseholes – yourself included – in this room. So if you don’t mind leaving them alone, I won’t have to beat your arse.”

Kyle turned around slowly, a smile lilting at his lips and his eyes dancing with mischief.

“You don’t know anything about your cousin; let me be the first to tell you.” He said quietly, and I swallowed against the lump in my throat and Scorpius quickly glanced towards James and I in suspicion. Kyle went to walk away, but just before he stepped out of hearing distance, he turned his head.

“Great job protecting her, by the way. She looks great dressed like a fucking whore – I know I prefer her ass that way.” Before Scorpius could register what he said, Kyle had pushed himself into the grinding crowd and disappeared.

“I fucking well told you to get changed.” He snarled, looking at me angrily, clearly incensed by the implication that the way I was dressed was his fault.

James finally broke his silence, turning his head to send a grateful smile to Scorpius.

Scorpius’ eyes stayed cold as he stared at the pair of us, his eyes drifting from James’ hand on the small of my back to the way my head was tucked into his neck.

“I’ve got my eye on you two.” He finally said, and then turned and walked away without another word.

He always did have a flair for the dramatics, even when we were children.


Half an hour later, I was still dancing with James. These parties aren’t too bad, you know - when you’re not sitting at the side feeling sorry for yourself for being made to come.

However my ‘maybe these parties aren’t too bad’ attitude was being tested as Scorpius and his little fuck-grinding-buddy ended up next to us, gyrating in a way that a cousin should never have to see –goodbye youthful innocence, that’s all I’m going to say.

And that’s when I saw her – Rose. Standing a few feet away, she was staring at the pair of them with the strangest expression on her face – it almost seemed amused.

Downing whatever was in the cup she was holding, Rose covered the distance between the two of them in a few steps – from the way she was staggering you could tell that she was way beyond drunk – and grabbed hold of Blonde Bitch’s shoulder.

Pulling her away from Scorpius – looking mildly surprised at herself as she did so – she thrust her at the nearest passing guy, who just so happened to be the bloke that sits at the back of glass seeing how much paper he can eat before he feels sick.

Scorpius looked like he wanted to ask her what the hell she thought she was playing at, but before he could even form the words, Rose leapt up at him, through her arms around his neck and attacked his face with her mouth.

Scorpius scooped her up, wrapping her legs around his hips and pushing her against the nearest wall, playing tonsil hockey with her like his life depended on it.

With a horrified squeal I jammed my eyes shut and slammed my head down onto James’ shoulder, pulling him backwards slightly so he wouldn’t see what was going on and beat the living shit out of my cousin.

He may be a right royal git, but I do like having him around... sometimes.

“Awwwwwww, you guys look so cute together!” Dom squealed, returning from wherever the hell she had been – I would like to point out that her hair was so bad she could have just been sticking her fingers in an electrical socket – and grinning widely and James and I.

James shot her the finger. She did not look pleased.

“Well, if I’m not wanted then I’m just going to go dance.” She huffed, pouting at us as she pretended to be affronted. Small note about Dominique Weasley – not the best actress in the world.

Grabbing the nearest bloke – I’m not sure whether she knows that he’s the one that was just chucking up in that pot plant over there, but hey-ho – Dom wove into the crowd and started to ‘dance’. I would like to point out that I use the word ‘dance’ in the loosest way possible.

As James spun me around again I caught sight of Connor out of the corner of my eye – he was staring at Dom and New!Bloke with slightly glassy eyes, not seeming to notice the girl to his left who was absolutely throwing herself at him.

Honestly, some of these girls have no pride whatsoever.

Generally, when a guy is staring at another girl whilst you’re trying to talk to him, that means he is not interested.

Honestly, sometimes I feel like the only girl in this school that actually possesses a pair of eyes. Well, other than Penny, but her judgement can’t be trusted; she’s off fucking Owen somewhere.

But anyway, back to the situation at hand.

I raised myself onto the balls of my feet slightly, pressing myself harder into James’ chest so he wouldn’t notice how I was peering over his shoulder.

Connor slowly pushed himself off the wall with his foot - leaving the bint that was chatting him up with her gob hanging open, looking incredibly attractive as she did so – and started to stride across the dancefloor, cutting a wide berth through the dancers, stumbling slightly as the alcohol he had been chucking back all night finally started to get to him.

He reached Dom and Sir Chuck-A-Lot, and acting as though the bloke wasn’t even there, spun Dom around to face him. I bit my lip as I waited anxiously for what he might do.

“Dom,” He said breathlessly, holding on tighter to her shoulders as he rocked from side to side. See, if they had done what I did and stayed bloody sober – seriously, it’s not that hard – then this would have been going a lot better. “Dom, will you go out with me?”

Did he... did he just say what I think he just said?


Oh shitmuffins.

“What?” Dom said weakly, staring at Connor as though she couldn’t believe the sentence that had just burst from his lips.

Sir Chuck-A-Lot looked like someone had sucker punched him in the stomach, but we won’t worry about him. There are bigger issues at hand, more important people to worry about.

“Will you –” Connor faltered, looking a little nervous that she had not immediately leapt into his arms and let their happily-ever-after just play out. I wonder where he got the impression that she would most definatley say yes? Oh yeah. Me. “Will you... go out with me, Dom? Will you be my girlfriend?”

Dom’s expression switched to one much like Sir Chuck-A-Lot – in case you’ve forgotten, in the short time since I last mentioned it, Sir Chuck-A-Lot is the one that looks like he’s just been punched in the gut – and swayed slightly on the spot.

Yeah, I bet they both wish they’d followed in my footsteps now – I seem to be the only one with any sense of balance in this room right now.

I’m practically holding James upright while we’re dancing – he’s so out of it that he hasn’t even noticed that I haven’t been paying a dot of attention to whatever he’s been talking about for the last couple of minutes.

“Did you just ask me to be your girlfriend?” She asked quietly, so quietly that I couldn’t hear her over the thumping bass of the rock song currently blasting out. I had to read her lips – note to wannabe spies of the word: not as easy as it looks.

“N-n... yeah.” Connor stuttered, blushing tomato red and staring determinedly at his shoes.

“Well finally!” Dom shrieked, leaping forwards and whacking him across the chest, curling her manicured hands up into fists so she could hit him harder. She’s a lovely person, honestly. “It took you long enough, you daft twat!” Each word was punctuated by another whack across the chest.

“Wh- what? Are you saying yes?” Connor asked, his face lighting up like he’d won the lottery. Honestly, it’s just Dom. I will never understand love-struck idiots.

Sorry if it makes me cold that I would rather live in a huge-ass mansion with bucketloads of servants and a wall made of tropical fish, with so much money that I can make papier mache out of fifty pound notes, than risk everything for ‘true love’.

Honestly, people like that knock me sick. The price doesn’t always outweigh the prize, my friend. Just remember that. A little life lesson, courtesy of Summer Lancaster. No need to thank me.

“Of course I’m fucking saying yes!” Dom shrieked, throwing her arms around his neck and pummelling his shoulders instead. Yeah, because that’s the way to convince someone that you want to be their girlfriend.

The alcohol must be getting to her.

Connor’s entire face lit up like a fucking Christmas tree, his mouth dropping open into a grin to rival the Cheshire Cat and his blue eyes shining so brightly that even I could see the difference.

“James –” I shrieked excitedly into his ear, ignoring him as he leapt into the air in surprise and clutched his ear. “James look, they’re together! Connor and Dom!” James whipped around just in time to see Dom fling herself at Connor, latching her mouth onto and shoving him into the wall.

Ew. I’m going to look away now.

Apparently James had different ideas.

“WHOOOOOO! GO CON-MAN!” He yelled, and I giggled against his chest. I can’t wait until he’s sober and remembers that Dom is his cousin, and he needs to have the Older-Cousin-Slash-Best-Friend chat with Con. Oh, that won’t be a sight to miss.

But another jewel of wisdom seemed to have hit the pit that we call James’ ‘brain’.

“OH WOW, DID YOU GUYS NOTICE THAT YOUR COUPLE NAME IS CONDOM?” I tipped my head back and roared with laughter, my legs sagging beneath me until I was sitting on the grimy dancefloor, on top of god knows how many types of alcohol, and I don’t even want to think about what else.

That was such a Fred comment.

“Funny,” James slurred, turning back to face my way and grinning down at me, “you act like a complete freak and you haven’t even had anything to drink.”

Pushing myself off the floor, I rolled my eyes at him.

“You know perfectly well why I don’t drink.” I said, hooking my arms around his neck as he pulled me back into his chest. “And you know perfectly well that it’s your fault.”

Under my accusing glare James merely widened his eyes, hitching the corners of his mouth up into a smile that practically screamed innocence. Yeah, I’ve known you since first year, babe. I’ve seen you and Fred swap all of the Slytherin pumpkin juice with troll piss at breakfast, make a banner out of McGonagall’s knickers and hang it from the ceiling of the great hall and practically shag innocent girls on the couch. Yeah, don’t try and pull the innocent act with me, mister.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He murmured, pressing hands against the small of my back and pulling me closer into him.

“I’m talking about the fact that the last time I got drunk, I agreed to become my best friend’s snog buddy.” I smirked, and a smile quirked the corners of James’ lips as he tried to stop himself from smirking in self-approval.

“I was drunk that time as well! It hasn’t stopped me drinking!” He protested.

“Yeah, well you’re a twat.” I grinned, and James flicked me in the forehead as he oh so mature way of retaliation. Honestly, his mother would be so proud.

I rolled my eyes and tucked my head into the crook of James’ neck, nuzzling the side of his jaw as he pressed his hands against the small of my back and kissed the back of my hair. I could smell the alcohol on his breath from here.

The song blasting out from the DJ’s station suddenly became much slower, and some the DJ himself grabbed hold of the microphone – nearly tipping himself over the process – and roared into it, with the tone of a rabid bull.

“HELLO LORDS AND LADIES. NOW FOR A SLOW UN.” He yelled. Yeah, that really doesn’t get people in the mood for a ‘slow un’. “SO GRAB A SEXY BEAST, AND LET’S DANCE!”

James chuckled and moved one of his hands to my hip, taking my other hand in his and resting his chin on the side of my temple, breathing more of that lovely drunk-chemical-alcohol breath onto my face.

We were dancing for a few minutes when it really hit me – how close James and I were, how tightly we were pressed together, the way his breath was tickling the side of my neck and his fingers tracing hearts along my hips.

I looked up slightly and locked eyes with him – okay, I swear that his eyes have not always been that colour. They have not always had gold in them, or twinkly little green bits – and he dropped his face down slightly, resting his forehead against mine and bringing my hand up over his chest, so I could feel the beat of his heart.

If he wasn’t drunk right now, and probably completely unaware of his actions, I would have kicked him in the balls for being such a sop.

James’ hand free hand gently brushed down my back, across my arse, around to my stomach, up my side, and then he leaned down to kiss me.

Reluctantly – very reluctantly. Have I mentioned that I haven’t snogged James in two weeks? – I ducked my head to his shoulder, breathing gently against his collarbone.

“James, we’re in public.” I sighed, and I didn’t even have to look up to know he was pouting like a five year old girl. Glancing upwards quickly, I saw I was right. He shouldn’t be allowed to pout when we’re in public – it is not good for my willpower.

“Well then,” He said after a pause, his hand sneaking up my back again and his head dipping down until his lips were grazing my ear – I pretty much went as rigid as board so as not to give him the satisfaction of seeing me shiver.

Huh. Does he really think that I’m going to skive off the first party of the year just so I can go and snog him upstairs for no reason whatsoever and I don’t know why I’m not agreeing to this because this party is shit and James is a good snogger and I’m going to shut up now.

“Let’s go.” I said, seizing his hand and dragging him through the crowd of people dancing like sops, staring into each other’s eyes and all that other romantic shit.

We had to pass Connor and Dom – or Condom, as James has so affectionately nicknamed them – and Rose and Scorpius – Roseius, anyone? – on the way out, but both pairs were too busy sucking the saliva out of each other’s mouths to notice where I was going.

The second we stumbled out of the room of requirement, James glanced around like a startled otter before seizing my hand pegging it down the corridor.

Right, I am never letting him drink alcohol again.

Clearly there is something in it that addles his brains.

Now, I can understand sprinting along a corridor in heels in the middle of the night when you’re being chased by someone, but when nobody is behind you and you’re running for no good reason, there is generally only one thing you’re thinking.

Die Potter, die. Die a painful and horrible death – preferably involving turtles.

What? Turtles are cute. Plus, imagine how demeaning that would be for Jimmy-boy – Here lies James Potter, death by turtle. That’s the way the son of the Saviour of the Wizarding World wants to die, obviously.

We reached the portrait hole a short while later, and despite being as pissed as a nun after a shot, James was not even panting.

Me? I was keeled over in the foetal position, just waiting for death to come.

“Come onnnnnn, Summer.” James whined from above me. “I wanna go snog.” Charming.

“I hope the turtles hurt you real bad, Potter.” I growled. He just blinked at me. Ah well, he’s known me long enough to know that I’m not completely normal at the best of times.

“...Right. Hurry up.” James seemed to have lost the small amount of patience that he had previously had, and started to lightly kick me in the back with the toe of his converse. Which is really charming, you know. Such a gentleman.

If he wasn’t drunk out of his mind right now then I would be kicking him very hard, right where the sun don’t shine. Bleeding tosser.

After a couple of minutes of rubbing my fingers in a circular motion on top of the burning stitch in my side, I hauled myself to my feet with the bottom of James’ shirt and let him open the portrait hole.

He half sprinted across the common room and headed up the staircase.

Rolling my eyes I followed him up, wincing with each step as my heels began to kill my feet. Why the fuck does Dommie feel the need to own such ridiculous shoes? She’s going to ruin my feet at this rate.

I suppressed the urge to cheer when I reached the Seventh Year dorm, and the second I stepped through the door that James had left open I kicked off the stupid heels and let them fly across the room and land on Freddie’s bed.

I turned around to look for James, but I had barely had time to blink before his hands were on my waist, gently pushing my back up against the wall behind me and pressing his lips against mine.

Oh buggering hell.

How long has it been since we last did this? Two weeks? That is far too long.

I slid my arms around his neck and pulled him tighter to me, letting him slip his hands up the back of my shirt and his tongue run along my bottom lip with maddening intensity.

He used one of his free hands to lift me up, and I hooked my legs around his waist so I wouldn’t fall, pressing my chest harder against his and letting him move his mouth to my neck, tipping my head back so he could reach it better, tangling my fingers in his hair...

We made out for a few minutes before things started to get more intense – it was odd, there was a sort of tension building, one there hadn’t been before. It was unnerving, but I didn’t like to linger on it.

James stumbled backwards, spinning around so when he fell onto the bed I was underneath him, his body held off mine with his muscular arms, one of his hands still on the small of my back and the other in my hair, which moved down to trace along my side, his alcohol-breath panting against my neck.

Which, you know, is really romantic.

And then the tension was building again, and I was tugging off his shirt and he undid the buttons of mine, pushing me further up the bed until my head was resting on his pillow, and my legs dropped from his waist so they were on either side of his chest, bent at the knee. My nails were scraping against the tan skin of his shoulders as he nipped at my neck, driving me absolutely fucking insane, I can tell you that.

James ran his hands from my ankles to my thighs, dipping down to place a light kiss on the inside of my knee – and then he was tugging at the waistband of my shorts.


Wait – what?

“James,” I muttered, trying to get his attention as he pressed open mouthed kisses across my stomach and down to my bellybutton, kissing down to my hips as he slid the zip of my shorts down. “James!” I tried again.

“What?” He breathed, bringing his mouth back up to my neck. As he started to work on giving me a giant hickey I lost my train of thought, and it was only when his hands started to skim down my stomach again that I remembered.

“James, stop.” He just grunted at me.

What does he think he is, a pig? Honestly. I don’t speak pig, love, mind translating that into English? Am I honestly having an internal conversation about the grand old language of pig at a time like this?

I need to get my head checked.

Please James, stop.” James stiffened slightly, his shoulders tensing under my hands, and then he slowly pushed himself from on top of me, sitting on the edge of the mattress with his head in his hands, counting under his breath.

Okay, odd...

“I’m so sorry – I took it too far, didn’t I?” He murmured, his voice low and cracked. He took his head out of his hands and turned to look at me as I pulled my shirt on again, his eyes full of remorse. I leaned across the gap between us, wrapping my arms around his shoulders in a tight hug.

“It’s alright. You’re drunk, love. Go to sleep.” I whispered.

“You really should drink more, Sum.” He slurred sleepily as I pushed his back down onto his pillow with one hand, buttoning up my shirt with the other. “We’d have a lot more fun at parties.”

“Goodnight, James.” I laughed. The boy is bloody lucky I have a sense of humour. “I’ll see you in the morning – remember to take some hangover potion before you come down to breakfast.”

I leant down and pressed a quick kiss onto his forehead, pulling the duvet up to his neck.

I watched for a moment as he drifted off to sleep, a small smile on my lips. James looks like a right angel when he sleeps.

Shame he has to wake up, isn’t it?


disclaimer: none of this belongs to me.

hello loves. sorry that chapter took a while, but school is an absolute pisstake at the minute. seriously. it's insane. i've had this chapter nearly finished for a long time, and even though i should be working on my mountain of homework, i decided to try and type this last bit of this instead. and i managed! yay! so sorry if the ending seems a bit rushed.

so yeah. small hint of what's to come in the next chapter? more rose/scorpius, a little bit more ConDom, a very awkward conversation, and our first introduction to the whirlwind that is Hangover Dom - (caps necessary).

ellie :) xx

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