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𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗜𝗡𝗙𝗔𝗠𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗨𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗢𝗥𝗚𝗔𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗔 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗬 in their common room on the weekends, and being the gits they are, they purposefully did not invite Slytherins.
Everest and Scarlet were chattering as they woke up, yawning heavily from a good night's sleep. She was excitedly talking about a Quidditch Practice planned for two days.
"And I absolutely love my position," Everest told her. "Poor Evan, people bombarded him with different demands, it must be a nightmare—trying to keep everyone's wishes."
"It's fine, Evan knows how to get his shit done," Scarlet mumbled, staring at the ceiling. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Everest sitting up with a slight gasp.
"Miss Scarlet Bridget, who taught you to speak in such an impolite manner?" She scolded in a mocking, posh tone.
That earned a chuckle from the sleepy blonde. "Stop that, you sound like my mama."
"I don't know why you complain, I saw her and she seemed like a very kind woman,"
"I doubt it was my mother you saw, then, Eve," Scarlet sighed.
"I'm quite serious," Eve raised a brow. "She's quite beautiful, even."
Scarlet shot her a glare, "Don't even think about it."
Everest frowned. "Don't worry, S, I'm not making a move to your lovely mother."
Scarlet was braced for it. She knew exactly what Eve was going to say next.
"Although, if—"
"No." She deadpanned, snapping back.
Everest groaned as loudly as she could which was cut short by a small knock against the door, and a letter slid under the door with such force that it flew and landed on the blonde's bed. Grumbling, she sat up and took the letter in her hand.
Dear Blondie,
Gryffindors are throwing a party tonight and as you've heard, Slytherins are not invited. Unsurprisingly, it was totally my idea. Why don't you come and yell at me in secret whilst everybody else is invested elsewhere? A.T. at 9 p.m., sharp.
