BET FOR YOU; 𝗱.𝗺

we've got to stop meeting like this

domitilla peyton

𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥. 𝗙𝗨𝗖𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥.

My head throbbed as I became conscious, the squawking birds greeted my ears as they flapped about in the foggy sky. What on earth were they so excited about? It was bloody 6:00am in the morning, for fuck's sake.

It was Monday, and I had to get ready soon. I couldn't risk being late for class again. I didn't know what punishments the other professors had up their sleeve. Plus, my cuts from Umbridge were just starting to heal, and the flashbacks of my recent detention made me sick to my stomach. But it was too early. Too early to face my problems. Too early to face him.

I contemplated setting the whole school on fire, but eventually found myself heaving up from the pillows.

I forgot how narrow my bed was, once I slipped off the edge, tumbling down, my body slamming onto the wood.
Fucking hell.

I scrambled up and frustratedly slipped on my uniform, stepping into my shoes. I don't think I have ever been arsed to do my hair after a drunk night, so I decided to follow that tradition.
I was about to head out the door, when I remembered I had Herbology first thing. I hurriedly grabbed my One Thousand Magical Herbs And Fungi textbook, and scurried off down the corridors. This was about to be a bloody perfect day.

The great hall was a madhouse. Full of people yelling and screaming across the halls. First years squealed like dying pigs, and the sounds of activity deafened my ears. Ollie sat in the corner with a couple of his friends, and looked over at me concernedly.

As I tiredly strolled down past the hall, I noticed Lyra sat at the Slytherin table, frantically waving at me. She was sat alone, eating a plate of buttered toast.
I smiled at her through my fatigue, and sat opposite the table.

'Are you ard?' She asked worriedly, as she noticed my ghastly expression, and the bags under my eyes.

'Hm?'

'You seem...a bit fucked up.' She furrowed her brows.

I chuckled at the obvious statement, resting my chin on my palms.

'I was drunk last night.' I said.

She gaped a little. A grin perked at her lips, and I knew she was going to open her mouth about something so I quickly hurried to say,

'Don't ask.'

She pressed her lips together, nodding slowly, before buttering another piece of toast. She offered it to me,

'Here. It will soak up the alcohol in your stomach.'

I smiled gratefully at her, taking the piece, and shoving it into my mouth. I didn't realise how hungry I was until I scoffed down the entire thing like a ravenous seagull. I gulped down the remaining food, and wiped the crumbs off my lip with a crumpled up tissue.

'Didn't know you still had that drunk in you.'

'It's the last time I'll ever drink.' I groaned.

She gave me a look, and I shook my head profusely.

'I'm serious.' I said.