The Slytherin Transfer

35: "Never a dull day with you."

Ten minutes after downing all of Professor Florier's flask, I'm seriously concerned about what was inside. Already the room is spinning, and as I stagger out from behind the curtain, I walk head on into Slughorn, who turns and beams at me.

"Cassidy! I was beginning to think you bailed on me!" He chuckles heartily, and I'm relieved to see he's much too drunk himself to notice my dire state.

"Wouldn't . . . dream of it, Professor," I say slowly, focusing on not slurring my words as his head slides in and out of focus. He says something else, but I barely hear it as the music increases and I get the sudden urge to dance.

I make my way to the floor, bidding a hasty farewell to my Potions professor and joining the crowd of people that jumps up and down as a new song comes on. Everything becomes increasingly hazy as I get jostled about, and soon I'm dancing wildly, barely noticing as a couple of guys who look to be in their twenties slide in next to me.

"What's your name, gorgeous?" Asks one of the men, a scraggly looking fellow with a sharp jawline.

"Cassidy!" I shout over the music, my voice wavering, "What's yours?"

"That'll be Charles," he says, kissing my hand as I jump up and down some more. He laughs, "you're quite the dancer, Cassidy."

"Oh . . . you think?" I slur, still crammed between the sweaty bodies around me. Charles's two friends somehow manage to push me closer, so I'm squashed in the middle of the three. I don't care, the music is so loud I can't think.

Charles grabs my hips and begins dancing with me, his body pressing against mine. I frown, trying to dance away but only getting pushed back by the two others.

"I have to . . . go . . ." I tell him, but my words are lost in the music, and I get jostled particularly hard by one guy, sending me stumbling into Charles's arms. He straightens me up, again grabbing my hips and tugging me against him, his hands rubbing up and down my dress. This time, I try to push him away forcefully.

"I don't want to dance with you," I manage to spit out, my arms folding against his hard chest, but he doesn't listen. I make to barge through a hole in the triangle, but the tallest of the three grabs my arms and spins me around, making my head spin and giving them the chance to press up against me once more.

"What the hell is this?" Asks an angry voice, but the three guys don't even seem to be listening as Sirius approaches, sees my arms being held by another man, and immediately steps forward so he lets go. Though he's several inches shorter, he stands with an intimidation that can take all three guys at once.

"Did she ask to dance with you?"

Charles looks at Sirius and laughs slightly, "She's just having fun, mate."

"I'm not your mate, so shut it before I break your nose," Sirius threatens, and I stop dancing, grabbing his hand.

"Let's go," I slur hopelessly, but he shakes me off of him.

"Now answer the question."

"Wha—"

"Did she ask to dance with you? Any of you?" He reiterates, turning to face all three guys, who look slightly uneasy but still highly amused.

"Look, chap," says Charles, "she's dancing, we joined her. Look at her, she's drunk out of her mind—"

"And so you took advantage of that?" Sirius turns on Charlie, eyes blazing.

"Well, who wouldn't?"

A pause. A short laugh. A thump. A shout. Several screams.

Sirius had slugged Charles straight in the nose, the latter had yelled in pain and fallen, blood rushing down his face as anyone surrounding steps back with shock and fear.