BETWEEN REVENGE AND LOVE

Friday, 20/09/1995

It's loud. It's stuffy. It's crowded.

The common room pulses with energy, with bodies swaying and music thumping in every corner. People are dancing - everyone is. And so am I.

I dance, or at least I think I am, though I'm far too drunk to tell where my arms, my legs, or anything else really is. All I know is that the room spins around me, and I'm lost in it, part of it.

It's loud. It's stuffy. It's crowded.

I blend into the crowd, into the haze of cigarette smoke, letting the mindless high wash over me. For once, I forget what or who I'm supposed to worry about. Right now, I'm just... here.

It's loud. It's stuffy. It's crowded.

"You're here." A voice cuts through the noise, pulling me from the fog. I lean into the person speaking before I even realise who it is. Draco Malfoy.

If I weren't so drunk, I might have responded, but words are lost to me. My tongue, my thoughts - useless.

It's loud. It's stuffy. It's crowded.

But words aren't necessary, not right now. His arms slide around my waist, and mine wrap around his neck. We sway together, moving to the music, to the beat, to each other. Melting into one.

It's loud. It's stuffy. It's crowded.

"I've been looking for you," he murmurs, his voice rough and close. "To tell you how fucking hot you are."

The comment surprises me, makes me laugh, even as I mumble, "How drunk are you?"

My face is inches from his, so close I can feel the warmth of his breath.

"Not as drunk as you," he smirks, his hands ride up my shirts, and that feels immaculate. His cold fingers on my bare skin send a rush of goosebumps along my spine.

It's loud. It's stuffy. It's crowded.

"Him? Seriously?"

A firm hand grabs my shoulder, spinning me around. Theo. His face is hard, darkened, I discover, as I watch lights play over it.

Out of despair I decide on ignorance, denial. This situation needs far more explanation than I'm able to give. He looks so disappointed.

I'm too drunk to feel bad. Too drunk to feel almost anything.

It's loud. It's stuffy. It's crowded.

They argue, their voices rising above the music, as if fighting here would solve anything. As if it could end in anything other than chaos.

"Read the room, Nott," Draco sneers. "She's with me now. Can't you tell?"

"You're easy to overlook, Malfoy. Not everyone's paying attention to you."

"I always knew you had a problem with authority, but that you're too dumb to understand what you can and can't do - that's sad. So let me make it clear: she's not yours to touch."

I stare at them, confused. What is actually happening here?

Theo smirks, cold and mocking. "Says the right one. I kissed her. And you really think you're in any position to tell me what I can and can't do? The only one who can do that is she."

"You think that means something? Pathetic. What's one kiss?"

It's loud. It's stuffy. It's crowded.

Draco steps away from me, leaving me to stand on my own wobbly legs, and I realise - too late - that this is spiralling fast. My hazy brain starts to catch up, a creeping dread filling the gaps. I should stop them. I should do something.

"You wouldn't know. You never actually came close to her." Theo's eyes flash triumphantly. "You're just scared she doesn't want you."

"She wants me more than she'll ever want you."

"You wish."

"This isn't your business, Nott." Draco hisses. "She's not yours. Don't touch her again."

"You don't tell me what to do!" Theo takes a step forward, challenging.

It's loud. It's stuffy. It's crowded.

And then, suddenly the first fists swing. Theo's at Draco's and Draco's at Theo's until there's blood on Draco's fist and blood in Theo's face - until there's blood everywhere.

Shit.

It's loud. It's stuffy. It's crowded.

My drunken haze snaps. The shock sobers me, adrenaline pumping through my veins.

"What have you done?" I whisper, my voice trembling as I stare at Draco. "Explain this to me."

Draco's bloodstained hand closes around mine, and he pulls me close, his grip tight. "I will," he promises. "Just come with me."