MORSMORDRE {marauders - au - redux | O/A

[LittleStevieHorseAndPhone]

TW: Incest mention.


While she may have been from the opposite side of the House division, Liesel Dolohov seemed well on her way to becoming the next Creighton Potter, paying the price because she didn't have the balls to admit to her heart's desires.

She tried. For the life of her, she tried. She stepped forward, grabbed Phillip by his narrow hips just like you were supposed to. Ran her hands up his sides, up and up and up, cupped his face and thumbed the hard edges of his jaw as she kissed him, just like you were supposed to.

But it just didn't work.

She tried to remind herself of all their good times.

Their snowball fights, their chess games--Liesel was always dreadfully bad at chess, impulsive and stupid and incapable of going up against a Ravenclaw.

The upper-crust parties she dragged him to that they both hated; the down-to-earth parties he took her to that she loved.

The letters they exchanged in the summertime, and her constant reminders to him: Don't let the folks work you to death!

But no matter how many happy memories she tried to force into her head, she always lost. The flashbacks always won out. In Phillip's place, she saw her father, his smirk malicious, his intentions selfish, his wand at the ready. She thought of his many threats. She thought of his verbally tearing her down for an ingrate...

She thought of his sharp, sharp hipbones against the backs of her thighs.

It's not real...it's not real! she repeated to herself, but knowing something in your head was a lot different from knowing it for real, and fight as Liesel tried to, she couldn't beat her baggage. It was strong and she was weak.

Head spinning, pulse racing, insides threatening to expel their contents, she pushed Phillip off. "I'm sorry, Liebling," she said, swallowing the tremor that threatened to slip into her voice--show no weakness.

Or at least, as little weakness as she could manage.

"I feel unwell. The, uh...the Firewhisley's gone right to my head! Just give me a few minutes? Just need a bit of air."

She tried to sound composed, but she was doing a poor job acting like it. When she turned on her heel and dismissed herself from the Great Hall, she was stumbling. In her drunken carelessness, she stepped out of one of her shoes, but she couldn't be arsed to care right now. She was more focused on staving back the flashbacks.

When she got to the corridor, she braced one forearm against the wall and squinted against tears she thought might have come, what with all the memories that had just been drudged up in her head...

Only, they never did.

It was like after all this time, her tear ducts had run dry or something, and part of her thought that was a good thing, and another part was screaming.



location: the corridor with: no one outfit: modest and traditional



▇ ▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇ YOU KNOW THE BAD GUY ▇▇▇▇▇
ALWAYS PAYS.

[Akikko]

☼ D A F F O D I L ☼ A S T E R I A ☼ M A R J O R I B A N K S ☼
// 'cause there's a world outside with //
// injustice and music and july, july //
// with history's arc, with your family, with art //
// but it don't mean nothing-- //
// not to you, not tonight //
☼ S E V E N T E E N ☼ H U F F L E P U F F ☼ N E U T R A L ☼
// location: Gala, Corridor //
// talking to: Travers //

When Travers offered her the flask, she downed whatever was left in it without scarcely blinking an eye. Her mouth felt numb; there was no taste to the liquid but the sting at her esophagus. Her face burned with embarrassment and anger, an odd combination, still struggling to deal with the emotional harm Antonin had dealt to her with no more than his presence and an offhanded comment.

The weight that had sunk in her abdomen when she had first seen Dolohov that evening now lurched from the pit of her stomach to the back of her throat. Daffodil felt panic ooze within her, her body tingling with an odd numbness that extended to every appendage. Her face grew warmer and her eyes felt hot in their sockets. She needed to get out of there.

She needed to get out of there now.

Daffodil had mumbled out a flirtatious comment to Travers, hoping she could leave this party with some semblance of held-togetherness. If he led her out, then that meant she was simply succeeding at the purpose of a party. If she fled out on her own, all eyes would be on her. Even his. And she simply couldn't have that.

His lips pressed against hers lightly, a cold sensation against the hot panic that built within her. Soon after, his arm pressed against her waist and they walked together toward the exit. She stared hard at the door, her vision darkening around the edges so that all that remained was her goal: the corridor. Daffodil's heart was racing and she wasn't quite sure how she was making it toward the door. She felt foreign in her own body, as if she didn't belong in the skin she was in.

All because of a stupid comment about a stupid dress.

The moment they stepped into the corridor, she felt relief wash over her. Nary a moment passed before Travers kissed her passionately, and Daffodil melted into the moment. The hot panic disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced with a combination of passion and consolation. She returned the kiss wholeheartedly, her arms wrapping around his waist, placing her hands on the curvature of his back.

At this very moment, she was ready to dissolve into reckless abandon and give into every desire he invoked in her. Daffodil wanted little more than to go to his dormitory and end the night in drunken, drugged passion. But then he pulled away from the kiss, and she looked up at him curiously, her cheeks now warm with desire.

His words made her pause. Could it be that . . . Travers cared about her? It was an odd feeling, to interact with a man who actually wanted to know if she was willing to do what he wanted. She wasn't used to it; she wasn't sure how to react.

She certainly wasn't expecting tears to well up in her eyes in response to his statement that he wouldn't want to push her into doing anything. Daffodil gave an embarrassed laugh, trying to quickly dry her tears before he would notice. Then, they were too obvious to hide, as she all but started crying in the corridor in front of Travers.

"I-I'm sorry," she managed through the tears, her voice rather pleasant despite her appearance. "I've just had a really weird day."

Daffodil hoped the explanation would suffice as she wiggled out of his grasp and curtseyed politely. "You should go back to the party," she suggested, "I'll go back to my room. I'll be fine," she lied.

[mandygurl71]

XXXXSandra JoycelynXXXXX

The cool night air felt good on her face as she stood facing the lake, the moon high in the sky now as it reflected off of the lake, her eyes trying to find some kind of peace in the night with every deep breath she took in. It would have worked too if not for when she closed her eyes and saw his face. Every single time she did his face appeared in front of hers and the amount of detail she could remember about him, from the way his smile lit up his face, to the sound of his laugh, and even his smell, was enough to tell her that she was not ready for this.

All the time that had passed between them, one would think she would at least be able to avoid him at a party, and maybe she would have been able too if it were anywhere but Hogwarts. The place where she had become friends with him, day dreamed about him, fell in love with him, this was the place for all of their firsts. It was when they left the school that things started to go down hill, the reason things had gone sour. If it were only so easy to blame the outside world for what had happened.

"Creighton, can we talk...?" she asked as she approached him, avoiding looking at him as she did so.

"Yes, actually...there was something I needed to tell you." It was his tone of voice that made Sandra look up to meet his eyes. Whatever he needed to tell her wasn't good, that much she could see, just by the pained look in his eyes.

"Oh...you first." she said, knowing, hoping, that whatever he had to tell her wasn't as bad as what she had needed to tell him"

That was the night he told her Hilaeira was pregnant. The event that sent her spiraling down until she decided she had enough. The night she told him she was done and he needed to stay with Hil was one of the hardest things she ever had to do.

Only because she never told him what she had intended too that one night.

Sandra knew that someone was behind her, but she did not say anything to them, and judging by the fact that they had not said anything to her yet, she only needed one guess as to who it would be.

When he spoke, his voice went through her like a knife that cut deep into a wound she thought had closed. Her throat hardened and she closed her eyes again, her memory astounded her, she had even remembered how he sounded. The only difference was the pain that came with his voice now.

Not long enough. She thought truthfully. If she did not see him again for a hundred years it still would have been too soon.

"Say it again. My name." She did not turn to him. She was being greedy, she knew it, but he did come out to her...so she was going to take advantage of what little time they would have while she could, even if she knew it was going to break her later.

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[LittleStevieHorseAndPhone]

With Liesel on the dance floor with her half-blood Saukerl and Daffodil whisked away by that underdressed, classless Travers boy, Antonin was left with nothing to screw--ahem, do. Not that he'd try anything on the school grounds...then again, security had always been notoriously lax, and he'd gotten away with worse in his own school days. Daffodil would be riskier, but he didn't see why he couldn't have Liesel in an empty classroom, maybe on the third floor where nobody ever really went, at least, as he recalled it.

He helped himself to a drink--the punch wasn't as innocent as it seemed, and he'd expected no less. He still remembered the things he and his friends would get up to. They used to spike the punch bowls, too...

The Firewhiskey in the punch was cheap and dry, and it went through Antonin like a lightning strike. He'd always been a terrible lightweight, and shockingly, alcohol hadn't seemed to have increased his tolerance at all.

He'd have liked another glass, but there was no reason to black himself out so early--not like that friend of Liesel's, the hapless Greyback girl who, at the moment, looked like she was going to be hauled off by a Prefect. Antonin sighed. That Lise really didn't know how to choose her friends...

"Ah, Hilaeira." He wasn't particularly fond of the woman, but she was standing around, and he ought to at least appear socially functional. It was how he got by day by day. "Or should I say, Madam Potter. Although I don't see your husband anywhere around."

He smiled and his backhanded words sink in--it was kind of a running joke, how Tom had made the former Gryffindor scream and beg.

Funny, how the things that happened years ago stuck with you. His group of friends had gone neck and neck in quite the rivalry with Hilaeira's in their school days, and even though it shouldn't have mattered now, he doubted they would ever even try to be friends.

"You might be interested to know," he went on, "that my daughter's stepped up into your old shoes around Hogwarts." And not his eldest daughter, mind. Wilhelmina was here, too, Merlin knew why, but she was just being as big a disappointment as ever, chatting up the very same Auror that had been giving him and his closest comrades so much grief lately. Saumensch--that she wasn't his own child was a big part of the reason he so despised her, but most of the time, he was glad she wasn't his, anyway.

"Queen of Slytherin, they call her. There--"

He scanned the dance floor for the unmistakable bell-shape of Liesel's gown--she really should have worn the green one, he lamented once more--and his lips pursed into a thin line when he saw her with her lips locked with that half-blood scum.

Then...

She pushed him off and fled, just like that.

Antonin could only guess at what was going on in that head of hers. She was usually so disgustingly affectionate with the boys she brought around in front of him. Maybe the guilt had finally gotten to her. Maybe from now on she'd show him a little more gratitude and loyalty.

A flicker of a smirk turned up the corner of his lips as he reveled in the first small victory he'd had over her in a long, long while.



location: the Great Hall with: Hilaeira Potter



▇ ▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇ IT'S BEEN THREE YEARS SINCE YOU'VE SEEN THE SUNLIGHT BUT I KNOW YOU'RE HAVING FUN ▇▇▇▇▇
BOUND, GAGGED, AND CHAINED UP IN MY BASEMENT.

[what sara said]

location: the Great Hall talking to: Phillip

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"What kind of girl do you take me for Davies?" Marilyn muttered over her shoulder when Chris leaned in with his questionable offer. If he and Tiffany wanted to roll around in bed with a third that was their business, but Marilyn was not about to be used once and cast aside. She didn't take her virtue lightly and was saving it for the man who would marry her, whisk her away to fortune and foolishly throw the rest of his life away on her.

In the meantime, she did have time for boys who wouldn't give her quite as much, but not the kind of time Chris Lloyd Davies was looking for.

When she reached the Great Hall she was left to her own devices. Everyone either wandered off with their dates or went for a drink at the refreshments table, but Marilyn had no need. The buzz had come on fast after she took that shot in the vein and now the edges of her world were pleasantly fuzzy. It was a good high, clear and bold. She could hardly wipe the smirk off her face even as Liesel disappeared onto the dance floor with the boy she had a crush on.

It was strange not to feel so bitter for once, but she was in a mood she felt nothing could kill. Not when some ignorant fifth-year bumped into her from behind, and not when she saw Ivan Travers go off with that fat sow of a Hufflepuff. Normally she would have been annoyed, but right now she could care less about Travers' low standard. It wasn't like she wanted anything to do with him, anyway.

She was wandering through the crowd looking for something to do, when Liesel sped past her, her wide skirt brushing Marilyn's legs as she went. "Well," Marilyn muttered with a shrug.

And when she saw Phil standing all alone on the dance floor the hungry shark in her woke up.

She walked up to him with her hips swaying, gave a small scoff and asked, "What did you do to the poor girl? And I thought you were such a prince charming." She tilted her head and looked up at him innocently. "Ah well...whatever it was, maybe she's just not your Princess Aurora after all." She put a hand on his shoulder, sighed, and gave him a look that was meant to appear sympathetic, but beyond its layers of pretense was suggestive. "Anyway, I could finish out the song with you if you wanted...you're a pretty good dancer."

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[NightisDark21]

Garrett's eyes lit up when she said she would do it. His lips creeked into a large smile but quickly caught himself as he glanced away scanning the place again, anything to get the large grin off his face. Which after meeting gazes with some of his partners did just that.

She was going to interview him. Hell if he knew that they wanted him so badly he should have just demanded that she give the interview. But then again that might have been a bit more desperate move. And he didn't want pity that he never got over her. It was enough just for him to read her paper every time he came in. In his dark world he lived in right now, she seemed to be the only light in it.

While he was wondering a bit that if this would be an uncomfortable talk for her, since he had been wanting to sit don and just talk to her for so long now. While a part of him knew that she was lying a bit, he was too hung up with the fact that after two years of doing nothing but reading her work, he would actually sit with her. Crap he sounded like a stalker...."Sounds good, we can work around my patrol, shouldn't be too hard"

As she mentioned his work he blinked a few times recalling where he was.

Right he was an Auror, he was on the job. He really shouldn't have been using his time talking to her. "I am on duty..." his voice trailed as he met eyes with one of the aurors patrolling the dance floor. This one he had confided in on his lost love. of course she was recognized with the way Garrett actually stopped working the way he did.

He saw the man shake his head and point to the dance floor. He shook his head slightly before giving a small cough. "But...I think I can afford one dance?...for old times sake at least?" he asked as he held out his hand. It was a long shot but what the hell. Everything else seemed to being going right, why not take a shot at it? Besides if he didn't ask he woudln't hear the end of it from his collegue.

The Great Hall: ♞ L o c a t i o n
X:♞ A t t i r e
Billie :♞ W h o ' s W i t h M e
bit excited : ♞ F e e l i n g

[what sara said]

location: the Great Hall with: Tom and Antonin > James

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Schoolmates was putting it lightly; Tom Riddle had never been a friend to Hilaeira or Creighton. She knew she couldn't speak openly about it in front of the children and Tom himself though.

Growing up Tom may have seemed charismatic, but Hilaeira had always seen him for what he really was: pretentious and fill of bullshit. He was also a bit of a sociopath. Once, when the tension really heated up between them, she'd punched him in the face, alright, she was no angel, but he turned the tables on her and instead of taking out his vendetta personally, he threatened Creighton.

That had put a strain on their relationship to make an understatement.

"Oh and I suppose she teaches here too?" she asked as she caught a glance in her peripherals of a woman she had hoped never to see again. She and Sandra Joycelyn had had quite a bitter rivalry over Creighton's affections back in school. But she had won him fair and square so she supposed there wasn't much to think about…it still irked her a little, somehow, that she was here.

"Creighton? Oh, what is the meaning of this?" she snapped as Creighton up and left. She sighed. Perhaps she shouldn't expect any more from him since Tom was here; she would have done the same thing in his position. Later she would make sure he was alright. For now, Tom was approaching.

"Hilaeira. What a surprise. It seems your husband had to step out?"

"You tortured him," she said bluntly through clenched teeth.

She could have taken him fair and square, but he had robbed her of the chance to fight her own fight. He attacked what she loved to get to her. He was nothing but a conniving sack of dung and she didn't know why Dumbledore didn't see it.

"You belong in Azkaban, not at a desk behind a nameplate," she hissed in a hushed tone.

"Hello, Antonin." Perfect, another man she didn't want to see right now, or ever, another one of those charismatic 'gentlemen' from her school days who was nothing more than a spineless fool halfway up Tom's a**s. "Yes, your Liesel fills the throne nicely. She gets that from Ari," she said venomously. After their fallout Hilaeira had lost a lot of affection for Ariadne but she'd never lost her respect. Antonin on the other hand was a different story.

"Excuse me gentlemen." As she walked off she felt almost like the Queen atop her throne again. She might be dying but there were plenty of worse things in the world than death. Just look at Tom, with his little job, alone--she hadn't seen a Mrs. Riddle around. And Antonin, deathly thin and bitter, with the baggage of a late wife who'd never loved him (Hilaeira would know), and two children out of wedlock. If she felt smug with the two men she had every right.

"James!" she called to her son after she'd gotten away from the two. She helped herself to a glass of champagne from one of the servers and beckoned James over. "Both of you, come here!" she insisted. She wanted to meet Lily at last, even just to say hello.

What if I don't make it to my son's wedding?

It was no good worrying about it in advance, she tried to remember.

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[LittleStevieHorseAndPhone]

"Sandra." The syllables spilled forth from his mouth as if she was operating him by a lever.

He would have said it forever if she wanted him to. It had been so many years, and yet, the spark in his heart for her had never died. He thought about her every day--some days, he could hold her memory at bay, remind himself that his life now didn't include her, and it wasn't okay, but it was just what he was going to have to deal with.

Other times, his heart burned like an open flame for her, even though she was out of reach, and it woke him up in the middle of the night, even after seventeen long years.

He never thought he was going to see him again, after the night she left him.

And if he did, he never thought he'd be as floored as he was, but it was true. She unraveled him. He felt like he was fourteen again--fourteen and a happy fool for her. They were both fools for each other, sneaking around the corridors and Hogsmeade and giggling, foreheads pressed together in the nooks and crannies he'd found under the Invisibility Cloak.

And they were happy..

Until they had it ripped away from them bit by bit. Class divisions, Creighton's family, society's expectations...bit by bit, it wore them down, until Sandra finally drew the last straw when he came clean about his impending child.

"I know about you and that half-blood girl," his mother said to him, coming up behind him in the corridor after he stepped out of the main hall during one of his family's parties. He was married by now, with plans to duck his way out of it, but it looked like those plans had fallen through. "Honestly, Creighton, Hilaeira is pregnant! I would have thought you'd learn."

"Sandra and I aren't together anymore, she's left me," said Creighton.

"I can only imagine what you've done to her, then."

Creighton's jaw clenched. It was always he that was the ********, wasn't it? As if it couldn't be framed any other way. "Well, Merlin, Mum, nice of you to treat me like a little boy...as always."

"You stop being a little boy when you grow into your responsibilities, Creighton. I've got nothing to do with it."

He approached Sandra and tentatively put a hand on her shoulder. He nudged her around to face him...

And seventeen years' worth of unspoken words and unlived memories hit him like an avalanche. He couldn't breathe.



location: the grounds with: Sandra



▇ ▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇ LIKE A FEATHER FLYING HIGH UP IN THE SKY ON A WINDY DAY ▇▇▇▇▇
I GET CARRIED AWAY.

[mandygurl71]

XXXPrudence McKayla BakerXXXXXX

The kiss left as quickly as it had come and just as much of a surprise as he opened his eyes and looked down at Liesel, confused. The look he saw on her face was not one a guy wanted to see after kissing a girl, fear. "Wha-?' he wanted to ask what was wrong but before he could even get the words out she was gone, leaving him standing there in the middle of the dance floor alone...with everyone looking his way.

He did not really care what people thought, most of them were idiots anyway who were more than welcome to entertain themselves with whatever ideas they wanted too about his life and what he was like. Some of them he even lived up too just for the fun of it, but in the end, they did not matter. In the end they were just all playing their own little stories out the way they wanted or the way other people expected them too, it was all a game. A little game of who could have the best life and if you cared, you lost. Thankfully, Phillip did not care about much...

But the one thing he did care about just ran away from him after sharing a kiss and that did not sit right with him.

He had just let his arms fall to his side when another voice hit his ears, Marilyn. He sighed and looked over at her as she spoke, and suggested they dance when she clearly just watched someone she called a best friend run away distraught.

"She might not be my Princess Aurora, but that's okay cause I'm looking for a Cinderella." He shot back with a smirk.

"It wouldn't be very gentleman of me to turn you down would it? And even if I did I get the feeling that you won't take no for an answer..." he added with a sigh as he looked back in the direction Liesel had gone in, tempted to go after her but knowing what she was like...whatever was bothering her she needed time, and he would give her that until later when he could properly confront her on whatever that was about.

He looked back at Marilyn, putting a grin on, "Why not, like you said I am a good dancer, and it wouldn't be fair of me to not show off for you." extending his hand he waited for her to take it before twirling her around and starting the dance.

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[mandygurl71]

XXXPrudence McKayla BakerXXXXXX

Billie watched him more freely now, her expression not as guarded as they talked a little longer. It did not mean that it still did not hurt, no, it did just as much as when he first walked over to her, but when she realized he wasn't coming over for some kind of revenge chat from when she broke up with him or that he wasn't as bitter as she thought he would be, it became easier. She knew it did not change anything, but they were adults now and even if this was the only chance she got, she did just want one more nice talk with him before they couldn't see each other anymore.

"Yeah, I'm sure our offices can work together to set it up. Since this is my job I can do the interview whenever." she said honestly. "Though just a heads up, I'm going to be obligated for personal reasons to ask where those scars came from. They make you look...older. In a good way." she teased, glancing down shyly as she tried to keep the conversation light.

She stayed quiet for now, letting her eyes wander as she enjoyed the silence with him as she waited for him to tell her that he had to go back to work, but when he spoke again it was the exact opposite to what she thought he would say. Her eyes shot up to meet his again with a pained expression once more.

Dance? she thought to herself, she searched his expression for some kind of joke behind the question, or reason, besides the assumption that either he was just being nice or really did still have feelings for her, but she didn't see anything. Just a kind expression with hope in his eyes, and sadly as easy as it would be to say no, she did not want too.

"One dance? I think I can afford that...like you said, for old times sake." She smiled, reaching her hand out to his, hesitating for a second, realizing that this would bet he first time they touched since she broke up with him and it hurt, but when she put her hand in his it was like she seventeen again, and the break up hadn't happened.

"Just one though. Don't want to keep you from your duties." Don't want to get anyone's hopes up either...

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[mandygurl71]

XXXXSandra JoycelynXXXXX

Sandra let out a breath as he did as she asked, her name on his lips rang in her ears like an old memory coming back to her. She even smiled, just for a second, until his hand touched her shoulder and she opened her eyes again, having not even realized she closed them, before turning to look at him. The smile slowly fading as she looked into his eyes with a heavy heart.

"Creighton." She replied, her voice cracking.

She felt so...weak. Weak in the head, weak in the knees, just weak looking at him.

He always had done that too her though.

She pulled away as she turned to fully face him, the pain too much with his hand on her shoulder for her to deal with. She felt it all, all the words left unsaid, the feelings left not touched for years, all of it just sitting on the silence that floated between them in the breeze that had once comforted her just a few moments ago. Judging by the look on his face, Sandra could only guess that he was feeling the same thing as she was.

As they stood in the silence, the weight of it all just sitting in the air between them, her eyes not leaving his as if it were some kind of punishment she was trying to put herself through. After a moment, she could not take the silence anymore. It was just too much...

"I'd say it's great to see you...but I think we both know that I'd be lying." She tried to offer a smile to lighten the mood in anyway possible, but at least for her it did nothing except maybe make it worse, the false pretenses that it came with...it wasn't her.

"You look good...James...he looks just like you. Of course he has to get something from her and the way he acts in my class clearly shows what but...he's a good kid." she was starting to ramble, and she knew she brought up the one subject she probably shouldn't have with him but...

It was easier to act like his son's teacher than an ex lover as they stood their together, so closely, with no one watching them. Safer.

"He's doing well in my class, when he pays attention, very smart. Too smart for his own good. Though I'm sure you know that." She was trying so hard to sound professional, but her voice started to crack and she had to look away as the tears filled her eyes.

No. She would not let them fall. This was not supposed to go this way, he did not get to see her cry, not again, not after all the time that had passed. She felt so pathetic...but of course he would be the one to do this to her and all he had to do was say her name.

You did ask for it. She reminded herself as she let out a gasp for air, not looking up at him again.

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[LittleStevieHorseAndPhone]

Kiera was pretty out of it, but she did manage to catch the shift in his expression. Well, it just figured, didn't it? He was a Marauder, and she was in with Liesel's clique. They were natural enemies, even if Kiera didn't go as hard against their rivals as, say, Liesel or Marilyn. She only got her hands dirty when she was acting on someone else's direct orders, and while she didn't care about social warfare for its own sake, it was nice to be included in something, even if that something was morally questionable. She'd take moral desolation over social oblivion anyday.

He didn't bring the fight, though--he didn't tend to. It was always Black or Potter, really. And Peter was part of their group, too, she supposed, but she knew he'd never do her any harm.

"I'm good," she assured him, nodding vigorously. "I mean, I've had a couple, but I can hold my liquor well, you know?"

While that might have been true when she was a few stone heavier and before she was horribly ill all the time, her tolerance as of late had dropped off a cliff, and she was clearly swaying, and furthermore, the furthest thing from good. Most of the time, everything hurt. She spent most nights out of the month in a state of complete dread, countless mornings curled up shaking under her blankets so no one would ask about all those bruises, her future and career prospects were shot, and to top it all off, her psychopath uncle expected her to join the 'family business' any day now. If he had his way, she wouldn't even be in school.

And while she could drown it all out by drinking copious amounts of alcohol, that made her puke and black out a ton, so her condition was not an enviable one in any sense.

But she was a pretty damn good faker--it was one of those Slytherin traits.

"What about you?" she asked. She swayed a bit, then caught herself by grabbing onto one of the little tables set with trays of hors d'oeuvres. "Don't you have, like, a girlfriend or something?" Too much? Probably too much, but her filter had been dissolved, for the night, by booze. "I mean, you and your friends are the most popular boys in school, and girls are clawing each other's eyes out to date you..."

She made to make a gesture with her hands while she spoke, but she lost her next sentence, as, when she pushed herself back upright, she accidentally pulled the tablecloth off the table she'd been leaning on, sending cheese cubes and little dried sausages flying. "Oh, holy s**t," she cursed under her breath. "Well, that tablecloth was askew anyway! Someone was bound do step on it and send the whole thing crashing sooner r'later," she rambled on, trying to save face.


location: the Great Hall with: Lupin outfit: back to black



▇ ▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇ I'M PERMANENTLY BLACK AND BLUE ▇▇▇▇▇
PERMANENTLY BLUE FOR YOU.

[mandygurl71]

XXXPrudence McKayla BakerXXXXXX

"Right..." he said when Kiera insisted that she was fine with the amount of alcohol that she consumed tonight, and while Remus did not have an exact count on how much that really was...he had a good guess that she probably had way more than she realized she could handle...

It was not his place to judge though, no, his only place in this whole encounter was to make sure that she wasn't going to hurt herself, school property, or anyone else, either on accident or on purpose. Considering the way that she was stumbling around to try and lean on the table that he had happened to be standing next too, he knew he couldn't just walk away.

He reached out when she had swayed again, but she caught herself for the time being, and proceeded to try and ask personal questions for him to answer. He couldn't help but arch his eye brow as she asked about a girlfriend. Shaking his head, he responded, "You mean the one I've made up for the sake of dodging that very question, she couldn't make it, had the flu." he said with a smile as he tried to be funny.

Yes, he knew it was assumed that since he hung out with two of the most popular boys in school that he was popular as well, and sure he might be, but he did not like to bring attention to it like James or Sirius did. She sure as well did not want use that at some sort of way to get a date or a girlfriend. Especially since his unknown circumstance kept him from being able to ask out any girl if he wanted too anyway.

She lost her balance again, but he had no time to try to catch anything that fell over as she took the table cloth with her and all the trays of food that had been on top of said table cloth. "Oh...are you alright?" he asked as he tried to steady her without over stepping any bounds. When she tried to deflect what really happened and blame it on the position of the table cloth he just shook his head again. At least she was okay physically.

He could handle this one of three ways, Remus could either remove her from the party like he assumed the head girl would want him to do as a prefect, he could ignore it like he really wanted too since it would just be easier that way...or he could do what James or Sirius would have wanted him to do if this were any other girl.

He decided to alter that last option, since Kiera Greyback was not someone that James or Sirius would approve of, he did not really care because he did not need approval from them for this. The offer he was going to give Kiera was a one time thing and he hoped that nothing else came of this because...well because it couldn't. He wouldn't let it but he did not want to be the bad guy and make her leave when clearly she was just a danger to food and needed maybe a little help standing up straight.

"Why don't we save the rest of the food over here from meeting the floor like this stuff...and instead of the one option I'm sure you were assuming I would do, we could go all out tonight and break tradition by having a dance? Nothing more. Of course, you can even pretend you are too drunk to remember this tomorrow if you wish, but this way I don't have to make you leave, and I can try and...you know, help you not knock more food on the floor?" He smiled, to show that his intentions were genuine, and waited for her response as he extended his hand her way at the very least to help steady her. Almost glad that she was as light as she was, since he was not a strong as any other guy around here and probably wouldn't have been able to physically help anyone else.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

[LittleStevieHorseAndPhone]

"Ask me, that Dumbledore is a glutton for punishment, then," Dane smirked. "Between your Housemates, those Marauders or whatever they call themselves, us lot in Ravenclaw, and the Slytherin broads--and boy, are they ever a nightmare." And when Dane Callaghan said that about you, you knew you were some kind of ********. His favorite hobbies were setting fires and kicking down doors, but he was pretty sure Liesel and her pack of dogs were capable of murder.

"You'll want to look out for that Dolohov girl. She's already slept with one of Potter and Black's group, and now she's trying to dip a finger in ours--ask me, she's plotting something..."

Just then, she burst out of the Great Hall in a flurry of white mesh and lace, her eyes blown wide, shaking. "Or maybe I spoke too soon." Maybe Phillip had come through after all, come to her senses, and pranked her to send her running.

"Oi, I didn't know you'd picked up smoking, too," he quipped popping his head when Alistair lit up a smoke. He fiddled with the burnt-out end of his, glad not too many people had been around to watch him choke on the ash.

"Alright, maybe not all the Slytherin broads are nightmares. In fact, there's this one..."

He didn't think he had to finish his sentence for Alistair to figure out the rest.

"But she's come on the arm of another man tonight. You remember good ol' Amycus Carrow?" he explained, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And that explains what I'm doing out here, I guess. But come on! If this is your big welcome back, we've got to get you set up with a drink and a pretty witch!" With that, he threw an arm around Alistair's shoulders and dragged him into the Great Hall.



location: the Great Hall with: Alistair


▇ ▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇ THESE WORDS ARE KNIVES THAT OFTEN LEAVE SCARS ▇▇▇▇▇
THE FEAR OF FALLING APART.