Restricted

Chapter 21. Halloween Pt. II

*a/n: Settle in for a long part two...*

"What are you doing here?"

Madeline raised her eyebrows, feeling a hint of mirth.

Despite mistakenly snogging her boyfriend back in September, she hadn't ever spoken to Sydney. And based on the angry witch in front of her now, this talk was evidently not going to consist of any introductions.

So Madeline shrugged, raising both cups of ale she held.

"Waiting for my friends."

Sydney took a step closer. "You're not welcome here, Slytherin."

Madeline couldn't help but snicker. If Sydney thought the nasty inflection of her House's name was an insult, she would have to do better than that.

"If I were you, I'd leave now," she added, curling her lip.

"Now, why would I do that?," Madeline asked amusedly, raising a brow. "I just arrived."

Any second now and Fred would return.

"Why'd you come in the first place?" Sydney hissed. "Sick of your own boyfriend already? Here to snog someone else's?"

Madeline let out a sigh as she peered over the crowd of dancing students, looking for any sign of her friends approaching.

"I never would have kissed him if I'd known he'd had a girlfriend—which he failed to mention, mind you."

Sydney didn't reply. Perhaps she knew very well of the truth.

Her face however, revealed nothing but continued disdain.

"Shouldn't you be mad at him?" Madeline added.

Sydney scoffed. "I don't believe you."

God. This was hopeless. A waste of her time.

All Madeline had wanted to do was enjoy the holiday. And where the hell was Fred?

Or Jolie?

Anyone?

She looked out at the crowd again, finally spotting Fred unsuccessfully attempting to drag Lee from the dance floor.

From Sydney's scowl and crossed arms, it seemed she wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. So despite the instructions she'd been given, Madeline made to move towards them instead.

She glanced over her shoulder one last time before taking her first step towards them.

"Believe what you want," she called to Sydney. "I'm not here to 'snog' anyone. Let alone your dickhead of a boyfriend."

Sydney's frown curved up into an assessing sneer.

"Dressed like that," she spat, her glare pointedly flitting over Madeline's costume, "I wouldn't be surprised if you or any of your little slag friends tried."

Madeline's feet halted before turning on her heel.

So, she would stoop to her level.

Without breaking their eye contact, Madeline held the cup to her lips and tipped it back.

It had gone down much easier than before. This time, she didn't even make a face.

But the taste remained on her tongue, the sweet hideous burning of alcohol coming on stronger as she exhaled through her reply.