Revenge ~ An HP FF

~ Chapter 4 ~

As Jessi pulled me toward the Slytherin common rooms, I knew it was over. Dressed up the way I was, there was no way I could face anyone. Especially not him. Why had I let her talk me into this again?

"Wait—" I protested, but Jessi kept dragging me along until we stood in front of the wall marking the entrance to the Slytherin dorms.

"Are you going to be scared of him forever?" she asked, grumpy and a little annoyed.

"That's not it..." I muttered. "But I look... slutty." And hell yes, I did. I had no idea how she managed it, but after the ceremony and dinner, she'd dragged me into her dorm. There, she'd rifled not just through her suitcase but mine too, determined to find exactly what I was wearing now. A short—no, scratch that, very short—sparkly dress. Silver. She insisted we had to match the colors of the hosts. 

My hair fell in soft curls over my shoulders, and it had taken forever, but in the end, she'd convinced me to keep my boots on, so I wouldn't break my ankles in her heels. In exchange, I'd had to promise her I'd dance. At least once. 

She'd also done my makeup, but only lightly. It looked like how I usually did it, only better. She had more talent than I did, no doubt about that.

Jessi, of course, had chosen a dark green velvet dress—Slytherin colors—with black heels and a few silver accessories.

"So what? You look a little slutty for once in your life. Big deal!" she said, but I knew she didn't really mean it. "Just because we're Hufflepuffs doesn't mean we always have to look sweet and innocent!" I grinned. She had a point.

"Aewyn, do you even have your ears pierced?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she held up a pair of long, diamond-encrusted earrings and a matching necklace.

"Jessi, I can't wear those..."

"Why not? Don't have your ears pierced?" Of course I did, but I knew myself. I'd lose them at the first opportunity, even if I just sat around all night.

"Don't worry, it'll be fine," she said. Hesitant, I took the jewelry from her and put it on.

"Thanks," I muttered as Jessi knocked on the wall. Twice short, once long, then three quick knocks. Suddenly, the stones began to shift, revealing an entrance.

"You know the password?" I asked.

She shook her head and gestured toward someone emerging from the passage.

"Ah, Jessi. And you brought—" I looked up, straight into Lorenzo's face. Crap.

"She wasn't invited," he said, his jaw tight, voice cold.

"She's my plus-one, Lorenzo," Jessi said, brushing past him, dragging me along into the massive Slytherin common room.

The other students were either packed onto the dance floor or gathered around a table with drinks. Vodka. So this was that kind of party. The air was heavy with the sweet, unmistakable scent of weed. And this—this was exactly why I didn't want to come. Drugs.

"Don't accept anything they give you, okay?" Jessi whispered, pulling me further inside. I nodded hesitantly.

Eyes locked onto me the second we entered. Whispers filled the room, and I could feel the weight of their stares pressing down on me. He had to know by now. The thought hit me like a slap. Damn it, coming here was a terrible idea. And I was right.

He knew.

Mattheo's gaze was fixed on me, his dark eyes boring into me from across the room where he sat in a green velvet armchair. His stare was sharp, unrelenting. I wasn't welcome. That much was clear.

"Loosen up a little," Jessi said, pulling me toward the drinks table. "One drink. It'll make you feel better, and you can actually have some fun." I bit my lip. I hated alcohol. Mostly because I couldn't handle it.

"Okay..." I said uncertainly. She handed me a glass of vodka and Coke.

"You have to chug it, or it won't work," she instructed. I nodded and downed the drink in one go. The alcohol burned my throat, but in a good way.

"Another," I mumbled, holding out my glass.

"Are you sure? Usually, one's enough," Jessi said, raising an eyebrow.

"Another," I said more firmly. She sighed but poured me another. 

And then another.

 And another.

"Okay, that's enough," she finally said, setting the bottle down. I wanted to argue, but she gave me a stern look and pulled me onto the dance floor without another word.

It didn't take long before she was swept away by some Ravenclaw asking her to dance. No one asked me, of course. No one dared, not with Mattheo sitting there, watching. But I didn't care anymore. The alcohol had taken over, dissolving every ounce of self-restraint I had. I danced. I didn't care what they said or thought. The alcohol had burned away all my inhibitions.

I didn't give a damn anymore. I stumbled through the room, heading straight for Mattheo. Somewhere deep in the back of my mind, the last tiny part of my brain that still functioned screamed at me that this was a bad idea. A terrible idea. But the rest of me? It didn't care.

The last thing I remembered was standing in front of Mattheo.

And then my hand connecting with his face.