- underage drinking
- a bit of violence

domitilla peyton

'Come play with us, Peyton.'

My head twisted round to face the small group of Slytherins sat by the couches. Music blasted throughout the chamber, pulsating out everyone's drunk shouts and laughter.

Lyra had dragged me along to one of our house's weekend parties, and despite my weak excuses of having homework, still, I'm here; wrapped in a short, tight black dress that she had for me in her wardrobe.
At the start, she stuck around, but a guy named Noah Faris started making out with her, so I think she went back to our dorm. Which meant I was stuck here.

'Oh- I- I don't know-' I stammered.

'Come on. Join. We don't bite.' The boy shouted at me through the booming music.

He looked a year above, but I may have seen him before during quidditch. I couldn't really tell, or remember; I was drunk.
It was the fucking beer pong. I always won that stupid game. And I might've won too much.

Everything felt fuzzy and my feet just barely held my small figure up, but I still could see my line of vision, so that was something.

I groaned inwardly, making my way as slow as possible to the group.
Pansy and a few other girls sat beside them all, and as I rested on the couches, I spotted the platinum blonde boy, opposite me. He eyed me curiously.

'What game are we playing?' I asked to the guy, who was sat beside.

'I know what we should play.' I heard Pansy's voice coo.

She plucked herself purposefully off the couch, setting down onto the floor, legs crossed. She then grabbed a nearby empty, disposed beer bottle and placed it in front of her, smirking at everyone,

'Whoever it lands on, gets a kiss.'

All the boys whistled and made their way beside her, settling into a small circle. The girls joined too, leaving only me and Draco still sat on the couch.

'Not joining, Dom Dom?' Pansy chortled, 'Too scared you're gonna cheat on Diggory?'

What? How did she-

Draco.

My eyes shot towards him, and he was already staring at me apologetically. I knew he'd spill.

The alcohol burned in the back of my throat. The dizziness from beer, complimented with the stuffiness of this chamber made me collect off the couch. I soon eventually found myself sat along everyone else. Draco also made his way over, looking fairly grim. He didn't look too drunk, but you could tell was tipsy, with the way his nose flushed at the tip.

'Your turn, Parkinson.' one of the boys nudged at her.

She carefully took the bottle, giving it a good push. It spun round for a few seconds, before halting to a short stop, pointing directly at... Theodore Nott.

A wave of relief suddenly washed over me. I didn't know why, but something inside me was glad. Glad the bottle didn't pick Draco.

Pansy gave a sly grin to Draco, and then turned to Theo, who leaned in, colliding his lips firmly against hers. She grabbed the back of his head, locking him in place as they both continued their heated PDA. I knew she did it purely to make Draco jealous. She never payed any attention to Theo, and she was obviously never interested in him.

I glanced over at Draco, who had the most disgusted face plastered on, and his body tightened uncomfortably.

After a while, they pulled away, both a panting mess. She wiped her lips cheekily, and went back to her spot like nothing even happened.

'Your turn, Peyton.' she raised her brows at me.

I gulped. My fingers trembled as I reached over to the bottle. I grabbed it, finally giving a strong push.

The bottle spun and spun.

And spun.

Round.

It passed through everyone, waiting to pick.

Time slowed as the spinning lessened.

The music blurred out all my senses, the only focus was on that bottle.

My eyes kept track on it as it finally pointed to...

I looked up.

Theo.

Again.

A wide smirk played on his cocky face.

'I'm getting all the girls tonight.' he boasted.

I rolled my eyes, taking in a deep breath through my mouth.

I really didn't want to do this.

It's fine. It's not like you've never kissed a guy before. Well, you did once. And all my irrational thoughts were numbed out from the alcohol.

I leaned forward, and he went over to me. His face closed the gap between us, and my breathing became uncontrollably ragged. The swirls of beer intoxicated my nostrils. My heart thudded anxiously, and I closed my eyes, waiting...

He crashed his firm lips against mine, pulling me closer by my back. My spine shivered as his fingers dug into the skin. Everything became a blur, the only feeling was the warmth moving fast against my mouth. I didn't know how long we had been kissing, but it was long enough, that by the time I pulled away and opened my eyes, the bright light blinded me, making me feel woozy. I wanted to vomit my insides out.

My breaths were heavy, palms sweaty. I didn't know what to do. Or what to say.
Everyone looked at us in shock, and Theo still sat right in front of me, a proud smile smeared across his slightly swollen lips.

I looked down at the floor, gingerly scooting back to my seat in the circle.

I didn't know why, but all I could think about in that moment, was Draco. My eyes flickered over to him, and the stony stare he gave made my stomach flip. He looked so...disappointed.

'Can I just say something?' Theo grinned at me, 'You're even better than Parkinson.'

I noticed Draco's jaw clench hard, the little muscle on his jaw quivering. His misty eyes matted as he glared.

Theo turned to him, noticing his anger, and continued, 'You really think you're gonna win this, Malfoy?'

That was the last thing he said that night.

It all happened in a click.

Draco lunged forward, swiftly grabbing at Theo's collar aggressively.

He was thrown violently to the ground, where Draco scrambled towards him.

A hostile fist collided with his jaw.

Over. And over.

And over.

Theo grunted and winced at every fast punch, quickly weakening in his defence.

By the time any of us could react, it was done.

Crimson painted all over Theo's nose, looking like a murder scene. He was left unconscious on the dirty floor, his limp body carelessly thrown back.
Hues of deep purples and blues burst around his inflamed face from where Draco had punched.

I looked over at Draco, who was now standing; his platinum hair was rough, fraying over his eyes, and the tucked in part of his shirt was now lifted up messily. I noticed his fists were slightly split raw, and blood from Theo licked around his fingers and the edges of his metallic rings.
He nonchalantly sat back down on the couch, exhaling one last angered sigh.

My lips parted in utter confusion. Nobody said a word for a while.

It was hard to see through the dimmed lights, and the air suddenly became a lot more sticky. The continuous party music deafened the silence, as we all tried to collect this scene.

'What...the fuck.' one of the guys whispered across the circle.

Two other boys hurried to Theo, sitting him up and attempting to help his bruises by wiping them with a tissue.
There wasn't much medical help when you're drunk.

Pansy scoffed in disbelief, 'You just-'

Draco slammed his hands against the seats of the couch, raising up and towering over all of us, who were still sat in the circle. A vein on his neck pulsed and his jaw grew tighter. His knuckles revealed a pale white as he clenched them hard.
His eyes glared in pure hatred. Hatred of everyone. Hatred of everyone in this bloody party. They didn't once leave my eyes; his frosty blue pupils boring into mine.

'You're such a fucking slag, Pansy.' he seethed shakily through his gritted teeth, before hastily standing up and storming away from the chambers.

His saddened figure disappeared from my tunnelled vision, and I sighed heavily, deeply regretting ever going to this party.

-

𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗩𝗜𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗦𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚, like the breaking of glass, pierced through the walls of my dorm from outside. My heavy eyelids blinked awake, revealing the blank ceiling above.

'What the fuck?' Lyra groaned from beside me on her bed.

I groggily sat up, stretching out my weak 11pm back. My head pounded slightly from the dizziness of being woken up.

'I'll go check.' I mumbled, as I trudged my way from the mattress to the outside.
The sound had seem to come from the common room, and so I went towards the door, my feet shuffling ever so slowly, fighting past the fatigue.

Evidence of shattered, broken bits of thin glass greeted me on the floorboards as I entered, walking past the grand piano.
Candles gently dimmed a yellowish glow, but it wasn't too dark. I could make out pretty much all of the furniture in this room. My eyes glanced over to the couches.

There he sat.

His long figure hunched over, elbows placed on his lap, with a glass of half empty alcohol in his hand. Light illuminated across the ash blonde fringes of his hair, which loosely obscured his eyes.
Bits of glass, from what seemed like a broken bottle, ringed around him like a sea of water.

My mind whirred at what to do. I didn't know if he was mad at me from the party tonight. Should I stay? Should I just make a quick run for it and hope he doesn't see me?

His eyes flickered towards mine, slightly in shock, but his lazy pupils and poor form indicated that he was heavily intoxicated.

He hiccuped, taking in a limp sip from his glass, 'Come to watch the show, or are you going to sit down and talk?' he slurred.

I gulped slowly, and cautiously made my way towards the couches, sitting down beside him. I sat at least a foot apart, slightly concerned on what the hell happened.

Now that I was closer, I noticed hour old tears which streaked across his tender, blossomed cheeks. A soft frown played on his lips, and just by looking at him, my heart ached.

He didn't quite meet my eyes, like he was ashamed of me catching him like this. Instead, he kept focus on his glass, tilting it forwards and backwards continuously, not saying a single word.

'What do you do when you're sad?' he finally broke the silence.

I paused a little, thinking, 'I'm not sure. I just talk with people, I guess. What about you?' My hands pressed on the seat of the couch, shuffling me a few inches closer to him.

'This.' he chuckled lightly, lifting up the glass, 'I like to drown my sorrows out. That way, I don't feel a thing. Not one thing.'

I stood silent, observing him. He continued,

'But why do I still feel? I can still fucking feel it. It's not going away.' his voice cracked, and I saw his hand tremble a little as he held the glass.

'What's not going away?'

'Didn't you hear?' he smirked weakly, still keeping his eyes down away from me, 'Great old daddy Malfoy is too busy with his little duties that he can't spend Christmas with us.'

My heart sank as I watched him closely, fire burdening in his miserable eyes.

'Not like that's a problem for me, but he can't even be fucked to take care of my mother. You should see the shit hole she's in. All alone, with only fucking house elves to keep her company.' his voice wobbled from the alcohol.

'I'm really sorry, Draco.' I softly spoke, not like pitying other people's problems was really going to help. I've understood from experience when my mum died. All this 'sorry for your loss' and 'she's in a better place' when it didn't really mean much. Still, there wasn't anything else I could say.

'Sorry,' he mumbled, tilting the glass back down his throat, 'At least my father's not dead.' he added sincerely, almost as if he read my mind. I didn't get offended, because I knew he meant it in a meaningful way. Besides, he was drunk, and what was that saying? A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts.

'Yeah.' I chuckled, pressing my lips together.

'How do you... handle it?' he finally looked into me now, with a strong, sympathetic gaze.

I sighed, 'I don't...not really. It's like...I still imagine she's here, you know?'

He nodded, so I continued,

'I like to live with the fact that she was a good mum to me, and that she watches over me no matter what. I distract myself with all these hopes and imaginations, but I don't think I ever...handle it.'

He smiled warmly. Blush bloomed across his cheeks and the tip of his nose, and he was slightly unbalanced on the couch.

'I'd rather I had a nice mum who died, than a wasteman of a father that's still alive, to be honest.' he admitted.

'You don't mean that.'

He shrugged carelessly, putting his cup down on the table beside us.

'I hate him. Sometimes I wish he was gone.' he said.

'You can still miss someone you hate.' I smiled.

'No, you don't get it, Domi.' he huffed suddenly, 'You had parents who-who fucking loved you. They listened to you, and took care of you, a-and I remembered you told me-' he paused to hiccup, 'You told me you did all these fun things together every weekend, and I- I got so jealous. Because...because I never had my father around do that with me. It-it fucking hurts. It fucking hurts.'

Thick tears pooled delicately on the rims of his eyes, before spilling out, running down his blushed cheeks.

I took him into my arms, wrapping them tightly around his neck. He hugged back, breathing out a strong sigh.

We stayed like that for a moment, the staggered breathing and thumping of his heartbeat echoing through my ears.

'You smell nice.' he sniffed.

I giggled, pulling away and awkwardly inching back a little, suddenly embarrassed by how close we were. He didn't seem to notice; he was still drunk and unaware.

'Why are you going with Diggory?' he murmured, resting his head against the couch.

'Because he asked me.'

'Yeah well, if I asked you first, would you have gone with me?' he stared above, at the ceiling.

'Depends if you were a dick.'

'What does Diggory do anyway, that is so special?'

My eyes blinked in shock, and I tried to piece together an answer,
'He is sweet, and...nice to me.'

'Nice...how boring.' he scoffed.

I rolled my eyes, biting back a grin.

He instantly sat up, staring a lustful stare at me, 'You know, Domitilla. You could do so much better.' he leaned forward, the waft of beer passing through his lips, as he lightly traced his fingers along my arm.

Electric sparks shot down my back, and I felt high from his cold touch.
I gulped hard, shaking my head profusely.

'No.' I breathed, 'You can't do that.'

He gently took his hand away, giving me a confused look,

'Do what?'

'Pretend you like me.'