Addiction (D.M)

Chapter 3

The bathroom was filled with students of varying houses, all mixed together just simply existing regardless of blood status, house affiliation, and general dislike of the other. You could tell everyone was enjoying themselves, they felt good.

The smell hit me as though a bottle of apple cider vinegar laid right underneath my nose — the potent smell of weed. There was a small group in the corner of the room taking large rips from a bong that was about a foot long. In the opposite corner, there were several chairs and couches randomly placed, as though that had been inched in varying directions from the movement of the people on them. Making out, grinding, practically fucking with their clothes on. Then there was a large round table in the middle of the room, right in front of a large stain glasses window — where the circle of sinks used to be, but they seemed to have have figured out a way to either vanish them or lower them flat into the ground — where at least 12 people were sitting, 8 of which had a small pile of cards in their hand. Poker would be my guess. At least ten others randomly standing about the table in observance of the game, most likely placing bets.

Some of the betters sporadically turned towards the wall behind them, which drew my attention to where there was a visible ledge jutting out from the wall that went from one end of the wall to the other, sitting just under the bottom of that window. This ledge held various drinks on one end including a keg that held a beer that no one cared to ask what it was, and on the opposite end of the ledge, there was a stack of muggle pizza boxes from some place called Martina's. The stack was probably the height of a 1st year.

And on the ledge directly behind the poker table, there were people slightly bent over, snorting lines of coke. As soon as i spotted this, i knew exactly where i wanted to be. Smiling slightly to myself, i say, "catch you boys later," and make my way in the direction of the poker table.

As i'm walking in that direction, i take the opportunity to survey some of the poker players and others sitting around the table. The player with the most chips in front of him happened to be Slytherin's star seeker, Miles Bletchley. We momentarily catch each others eye. I raise my eyebrows in question, and he smiles back cockily in reply, which tells me exactly how that game is going to play out. I don't bother to look beyond two more players; the one with the least amount of chips, who looks to be a 5th or 6th year Gryffindor based off the red and yellow tie loosely hanging around his neck. Whom I can tell is nervous about playing his hand because he has the worst poker face i've ever seen. And then to another sitting a couple chairs down on his left, a red head named Fred Weasley. He has the second largest pile of chips from anyone at the table, along with a small baggie of my favorite powder and another slightly larger baggie filled with a couple blunts worth of weed in that same pile. His cards lay face down to the side of his pile, all while he makes an under the table deal to the player adjacent to him on his left, a younger blonde boy, looking to be about a 4th or 5th year. A quick exchange of one hand each, one grabs a small bag, and the other — Weasley — grabs the two silver sickles, all happening simultaneously. It happened so quick i could have blinked and missed the transaction. Judging by the other players faces staring at the cards in their hands, they haven't the slightest clue what just took place.

A fleeting thought popped into my head about where the other Weasley twin could be, but then i realized he was most likely somewhere else in here doing similar tasks as his brother, or at a different party altogether, no doubt making money in some way regardless.

I finally reached the ledge where the other students were snorting lines, and make my way up to be the next one. They practically part like the Red Sea, as if i'm royalty. These parties were bought by elitists' money via the children whom they sire and didn't give a shit what they used it on, so there was no shortage of drugs in this room. No one even cared who took the next hit, snorted the next line, or if one person did too much at once, because they knew there was more where that came from.