In the evening, there was going to be a party in the Gryffindor common room, since Gryffindor won the match. When I was getting dressed up, the music was definitely so loud, that it was audible through the closed door. I walked out of the boys' dorm, and it confirmed my suspicion. The common room was blaring with music.
People were dancing. The floor of the common room getting converted to a dance floor. Luckily, none of the teaching staff had any idea, otherwise we'd be in big trouble for partying after curfew hours.
Ron approached me, a glass of firewhiskey in his hand. He was definitely speaking something, since his lips moved, but I couldn't make it out in the loud noise. "I CAN'T HEAR YOU RON!" He walked away, while I stared at him, frowning. Did he think I heard him? Nevermind.
"Excuse me, yeah, let me get through."
Merlin, whose idea was to keep drinks for people and blast the music in the speakers tonight? They must be complete idiots. Is anyone even sober tonight?
I managed to get to a corner, the music audibly low, and even though in the darkness, I spotted Y/n, with a glass of some kind of drink, which I assumed was butterbeer, for if I knew her correctly, she wasn't someone consuming heavy drinks. I seated myself beside her.
"Y/n?" I called out. I noticed she was wearing a knee-length black dress. The fabric looked velvety, but the fact that attracted me more was that, that was the first time I saw her in a dress. The way the dress hugged her and the way her hair, which she usually tied up most of the time, was let down this time and it slid down her shoulders gracefully.
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She turned to me, "hi," she paused, "someone needs to turn down the music."
I chuckled, and couldn't help but notice how her words were slurred. She's drunk. It was true the thought of apologising had crossed my mind twice before, but I wondered if it was the right time. She wasn't sober, and she wouldn't understand my words well.
"Who arranged the party anyway?" I asked.
She immediately replied with her slurring words, "could be either of the twins." It seemed she didn't remember we had an argument earlier.
"Did you get yourself checked at the Hospital Wing? Anything concerning?"
"What check-up? I'm going there every week."
I frowned, every week? What did she mean by every week?
Before I could counter-question, Fred approached her. "Y/n, come on, champion of the day! We need a dance from you!"
"Fred, why? I can't dance."
"Rubbish! Ok, surely you can sing, swiftie."
Y/n gasped dramatically, the effects of the alcohol completely taking over, "No-"
