chapter x risky bets and sullen hearts

***

ON QUIDDITCH MATCHDAYS, THE RAVENCLAW COMMON ROOM seemed to be bursting with a euphoric warmth, an enticing laughter and an erratic hooting. Sometimes, Avery is reminded of the times when Jeremiah was the captain of the Ravenclaw and managed to help them win the House Cup for her treasured house. She knew Jeremiah idolised the man he modelled his captaincy methods after (Billy McNeil, Celtic Football Club ex-Captain and current manager, nicknamed 'Cesar' — which just so happens to be Avery's middle name, courtesy of Valerie's admiration for the man.) and that him bringing the Cup into the hyped common room, on the bumbling shoulders of two of his companions, bouncing upon them with the trophy being thrusted ecstatically in the air, was the best feeling for her house to have endured.

And after the older boy's departure four years ago, the Ravenclaw quidditch team seemed to... dip. They'd never gotten lower than third place in the House Rankings, but they wanted better than that. Slytherin may have been the ambitious house, but it didn't stop the determination that surged within the devoted eagles at wanting more house glory. And they hoped that maybe, with Rowan Hamilton on the reins, as of the most remarkable and eager captains to have taken charge of the intelligent team, that Ravenclaw may be granted another chance at glory. They hoped.

It's difficult to pinpoint a time when the celestial, royal blue common room isn't bursting with life on a normal day. So, for the atmosphere to be buzzing and bubbling jovially on the morning of a quidditch match day came as no surprise to the stereotypically intelligent house. Especially when it's against a house who often rivals in terms of intelligence: Slytherin.

     A bright, excited smile is on Avery Carmichael's face as she, along with Dominique and Juliet, make their way out towards the quidditch stands, a cool breeze wavering throughout the thrilled faces. It was a chilly day, students burrowed in thick, woolly scarves of colours red and green, yellow and blue, and the gusts of wind were sure to benefit and cool down the many sweat-ridden quidditch players. (The wind would come at the cost of the warmth of the spectators, but what's the problem if it would be worth it in the end? Unless...)

"Where's Hannah?" Avery asks the two next to her, for Hannah Liu had not been present in their venture towards the stadiums, Rowan having been down in the Quidditch changing rooms getting her team ready.

"She's down in the Quidditch rooms with Rowan and Eric," says Dominique with a light grimace, "Apparently she's doing palm readings now and making them out to be all good things for them, and she's ignoring the bad things which is... something. But she said she was gonna try and make them do three hundred jumping jacks each to elevate their minds." The pretty redhead sniggers.

"Where did you hear this?" Juliet asks.

"A birdie." Dominique smirks. Avery guffaws at the irony of this statement — Juliet still has no idea that Dominique knew of her and Tonks, but the implication of a birdie was enough to remind the tan-skinned brunette of her and Avery's conversation a few weeks prior.

Juliet narrows her eyes. "A birdie?"

Dominique smirks further. "Yes, a birdie."

"Okay..." Juliet averts her eyes from this suspenseful conversation, landing on a Slytherin a small distance away in the crowd leading towards the quidditch pitch. "Hey, Valdez!"

Nico Valdez turns around in a flurry. The Slytherin, also Avery's Care of Magical Creatures desk partner, was a strikingly attractive guy, with flaxen light brown tresses tousled skilfully. It wasn't uncommon for a smug grin to be sprawled across his chiselled face, charming most personas in the midst of his presence. He grins, taking long strides towards the three and throwing an arm around Juliet's shoulders.

     "Juliet!" He bellows exuberantly. "Great to see you! You're looking ho–"

     "Don't, Valdez." Juliet throws his arm of her shoulders, falling to his side limply. (In a way, Nico reminded Avery of Roy Rothchild.) He frowns. "Is it true you're commentating the match today?"

     "Right you are." Nico says, a toothy smile on his face. "Minnie — well, McGonagall — wanted to give me a chance to see how I'll do of the job. And seeing as how Slytherin will obviously win, I admit I'll be so good, Minnie will have me be the commentator for the rest of the year!"

     Avery arches an eyebrow disapprovingly at what the Slytherin said. "Come again?"

     "Ah, so she speaks!"

     "Nico, shut up." Avery rolls her eyes. "We're desk partners. That shouldn't come as a surprise."

     "It does," he adds. He held his hands up in surrender at seeing Avery's vexatious state. "Okay, I'm kidding. We're besties, right?"

     "Sure," muses Avery. "Anyways, what was that about Slytherin winning the match?"

     "Oh, that? It's a no-brainer! Slytherin are the more experienced, superior, tactically-stronger—"

     "You realise you're talking about the house that specialises in tactics?" Avery poses.

     "And the fact my brothers taught me how to do a four-point elbow strain lock?" Juliet adds incessantly.

     ("Okay, maybe calm down, Jules," soothes Dominique. Juliet was a ticking bomb.)

     A complacent smirk remains on Nico's face. "You get the point," he says, "Slytherin are gonna win. That, I promise you."

     "Bet on it, then."

     All eyes averted Avery's way, looking at her serious, dead-set, competition-focused face. Avery was a competitive person in many senses, so a proposition like this wasn't exactly something for her to frown upon. And neither did Nico.

     "I mean it," says Avery. "A price. Whoever is wrong has to pay up. Slytherin wins, it's yours, Ravenclaw wins, it's mine."

     He sticks out a firm hand. "Five galleons to whoever wins."

     "Ten," Avery grins.

     "And a date with Hannah." At their perplexed looks, he shrugs his shoulders. "What? She's cute."

     "Fine," Avery says. She shakes his hand, rivalling his strength in trying to inadvertently break the other's hand. "You're on."

     "Deal," says Nico.

     "Deal."

     Nico smiles definitively. "Enjoy the game, you lot. And Avery, expect to pay up soon."

     Avery gives a throaty chuckle. "No way. I hope you're not too pouty when your date with Hannah falls through."

     Nico scowls her way, before he departs from the three Ravenclaws. Dominique turns to Avery.

     "What was that?"

     "What?" Avery retorts.

     "You and Nico Valdez!" Dominique exclaims in a somewhat breathy voice. "That's — you just bet against him going on a date with Hannah. That's, like, risky."

     "I have faith in Rowan! And that team." Avery comments. "Honestly, Nico will be real sad when he doesn't get his date. It's okay, though. We're still "besties"." She smiles.

    Juliet looks unconvinced. "But when he puts it that way... Slytherin do have better chances at winning..."

     "—I have faith in our team!" Avery bursts out. "It may not be like it was when Jem was the captain, but Rowan and Eric and the rest of the team are amazing. So, Hannah's love life will remain untarnished."

     "What about my love life?"

     Avery flinches as Hannah comes into view, her sleek black locks in a high ponytail bounding after her, a bright smile on her face.

     "I was helping Rowan and Eric and the rest of the team with their mindset for the game." Hannah exclaims happily. "Well, at first they told me to come back after but I'm stubborn, as you all know, and refused. And they let me work my magic after I promised not to make any star references. You'd never have thought it, but I'm amazing at being a therapist!" She gives a pleasant smile before turning her head unknowingly between her three friends, appearing curiously. "What about my love life, then?"

     Avery grimaces. Perhaps it hadn't been the best idea to accept the bet from Nico. Either way, a deal was a deal...

     "Nothing...." Avery trails off. Hannah didn't look too bothered, thankfully.

     Hannah gallops ahead happily, linking her arm eagerly through Juliet's as they tried to find a spot in the increasingly populating quidditch stands. Dominique turns towards Avery, an eyebrow raised.

     "You best hope Rowan has a good amount of tricks up her sleeve," Dominique whispers, though her voice could have been easily concealed by the deafening crowd. "Imagine how Hannah would react at having to go on a date with Nico Valdez.

———

"WELCOME TO THE FIRST QUIDDITCH GAME OF THE SCHOOL YEAR!"

     Nico Valdez's voice emanated through the ears of every single occupants' in the circular quidditch ring like the resonant, reverberating noise of a hammer to a gong. It seemed to reflect in the excitement of those waiting anticipatedly and anxiously for the game to start, provoking everyone to stare wide-eyed into the stadium, where the players were mounted on their brooms.

     "It's a showdown against my own team, Slytherin, along with the mighty smart Ravenclaws — though I fear Slytherin rivals them massively myself! Slytherin, by far the more stronger, better-looking and more experienced team—

     "Valdez—" says McGonagall warningly.

"What, Professor! Anyways, as I was saying, it's a first for the new Ravenclaw captain, the beautiful yet spirited Rowan Hamilton who has taken quite a risk and done a near-complete swatch for the team members! Her lineup consists of herself, Davies and Monroe as Chasers, Osborne and Mitchell as Beaters, Cunningham for Seeker and Eric Feng as Keeper.

"As for my own team, captain McQuade, now in his last year of captaincy, has introduced new first year prospect Adrian Pucey for Chaser, also including McQuade himself and Marcus Flint. Beaters are Gilbert and Ross, Seeker is also a new first year prospect by the name of Terrence Higgs and Keeper for Slytherin is O'Connell. It seems that Madam Hooch is making her way into the pitch now!"

Madam Hooch, the eagle-eyed Quidditch instructor had in fact entered the pitch carrying the crate of Bludgers, Quaffles and the Snitch. She gets Captains Hamilton and McQuade to shake hands before the Quaffle is thrown up high into the air and—

     "THEY'RE OFF!" Nico bellows from his reverberating megaphone. "Would you take a look at Davies? He may be young but he certainly has spirit, the second year will do wonders for the team in the future! He's off with the Quaffle and — oh brilliant, Pucey has gotten the Quaffle, passed to Marcus Flint... oh, he's pushed past Beaters Osborne and Mitchell and — TEN POINTS TO SLYTHERIN!"

Avery groans in displeasure as the scoreboard levels up 10-0. Okay, it was only the start of the game. They had this. The Slytherins seemed to be ramping it up at their end.

"The Quaffle has found its way straight to Rowan Hamilton! Oh, look at her go, she certainly is an entirely different captain to Jeremiah Carmichael, the remarkable, handsome, spectacular —"

"Why does everyone fancy my brother?" says Avery exasperatedly. Dominique sniggers while Hannah blushes.

"Speaking of Carmichael's, Avery Carmichael will be owing me ten galleons and a date if Slytherin wins and I have faith that my team—"

"You're meant to be commentating, Valdez!" McGonagall shouts from behind.

"—Okay, okay, Professor, I'm sorry." Though it didn't sound like Nico was sorry at all. "Speaking of Professors, we have Professor Minnie — Minerva, I apologise — of Gryffindor, and Professor Snivell — Severus, I mean, I sneezed, excuse me, Snape of Slytherin house." There was a chorusing laughter reverberating from the audience, but none seemed to be as powerful as that of Professor Snape's glare. Nico nervously clears his throat. "AND WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT! What a narrow miss from Slytherins' bludgers for Ravenclaw Chaser Monroe, and Adrian Pucey has made the score 20-0! Keeper Feng needs to get his game together! Have you heard there's a superstition that says any team—"

"Valdez!" McGonagall warns again.

"Okay, okay, Professor, excuse me, oh yes! McQuade makes it 30-0! This is brilliant news for me, I'll finally have a chance at a date with—"

      "COMMENTATE, VALDEZ!"

"And Roger Davies has taken the Quaffle — oh wow, what a narrow miss from Slytherin Beater Ross, surely that could have lessened the chances and — he's passed to Captain Hamilton and — ROWAN HAMILTON MAKES IT 30-10! Perhaps there is hope for Ravenclaw's new team after all! Oh, what a brilliant hoop as well if I may say so myself, soared right over O'Connell's head! Hope this doesn't cost us too much!"

     Rowan's remarkable attempt at shooting the Quaffle through the hoop did not go unattended by from the Ravenclaws, whooping and cheering with enthusiasm at the prospect of them still having a chance at winning!

     "They're off again! Captain McQuade has the Quaffle, he dodges Beater Mitchell — oh, would you look at that! Slytherin Beater Gilbert just knocked Ravenclaw Beater Mitchell off her broom!"

     There's large gasps in the crowd as Ravenclaw's Beater Mitchell falls to the ground in an emphatic fall, the broom falling hard and fast alongside it. Unfortunately for them, Madam Hooch doesn't deem it a fowl of any sort, erupting large noises of disapproval from the Ravenclaw end.

"Ravenclaw are getting violent!" Nico exclaims in surprise. "Munroe has just came and ripped the Quaffle out of Flint's arms and he's taking it towards the hoop! He's making good progress and passed it onto Davies and — oh Merlin! Terrence Higgs has just spotted the golden snitch just as Davies scores! And it looks like Ravenclaw Seeker Cunningham has followed suit! They're both wracking their way through the stadium but look! Chaser Pucey has just made it 40-20 for Slytherin! He may be young but he certainly does have flair! The Quaffle finds its way into a determined Munroe, who's outrunning all the Beaters and — what a fantastic throw! Chaser Munroe makes it 40-30! Now, about that golden snitch—"

At the mention of the prized snitch, most people's attention fell upon the two Seekers rampaging side-by-side in the air, arms out and groping for the stubborn Snitch. Joshua Cunningham for Ravenclaw, sixth year, was by far the more experienced player, regardless of what Nico Valdez had to say about the team itself, and his reach was much longer and his agility was more enhanced than that of first year Terrence Higgs. This only meant Cunningham had the advantage, and soon enough his extensive reach meant—

"JOSHUA CUNNINGHAM HAS CAUGHT THE GOLDEN SNITCH!" Nico shouts through his megaphone, through the massive whooping and cheers of Ravenclaws and students alike.

"ITS A FIRST FOR THE REFORMED RAVENCLAW QUIDDITCH TEAM AND NEW CAPTAIN HAMILTON, SETTING THE TONE FOR THE REST OF THE YEAR! Rowan Hamilton certainly does show them a new light and potential for this new team, and we can only hope they continue to show such teamwork throughout the rest of the team! It's Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff next week and we can only hope both Charlie Weasley and Elyria Salzburg bring an interesting result! As for me, I must deal with the blow of a lost date opportunity—"

"What's he talking about? Date opportunity?" Hannah asks innocently over the excitement and chatter in their stand. Little did she know.

"Nothing, Han," says Avery, hiding a snigger amidst the other two with her. Hannah didn't delve over it.

"—And we all know Avery Carmichael certainly won't be giving me a break about this anytime soon. Good day, everyone!"

Avery grins to Dominique and Juliet. "I told you both to have faith."

———

BY NIGHT, THE RAVENCLAW COMMON ROOM IS TRANSFORMED INTO AN EXUBERANT PANDEMONIUM. Their first win of the quidditch season was, by any means, an excuse for ramping up the music, sneaking a hoard of snacks and food out from the kitchens and for many to become intoxicated off the basis of throat-burning amber bottles of Firewhiskey. Which also meant that none of the younger students were allowed to partake in the rowdy celebrations, though some managed to sneak a muffin or two before the prefects shooed them away.

     (Yes, that's right — the prefects were in on the party too. You can't blame them, though, when all they want to do sometimes is have some unprecedented fun!)

     "Don't move, Aves! You'll make me smudge your eyeliner!"

     As the entire party was raving on downstairs, Dominique Hawthorne was busy doing Avery Carmichael's makeup, both sat on one of the beds in their dorm room, Dominique holding Avery's face firmly by the chin with her other had angling the eyeliner pen over her eyelid. For the party, Avery decided to wear a pair of blue jeans with a black tube top and a cream-coloured knit cardigan with buttons. She'd opted to wear her own canvas trainers instead of the scary thigh-high boots Dominique suggested, because Avery was simply more at ease.

Avery tries her best not to frown as Dominique forces her head into place, until Dominique sits back, basking in her eyeliner masterpiece. (Eyeliner was the one makeup item Avery could never master: the coordination was just too difficult for her.)

Dominique sighs contentedly. "There. Brilliant. You're all ready."

"Great," Avery smiles. She looks to Juliet, waiting with an eager expression as she rocked back and forth on her bed, her knees brought up to her chest. "Are you not doing your makeup, Jules?"

Juliet shakes her head. Half of her hair was tied up in a small ponytail, the rest of her incredibly wavy hair swishing beneath her. "Makeup's not really my thing, you get me?" She answers. "Didn't seem to be Rowan's either, by the way she immediately went down to the common room before she'd even gotten her shoes on!"

Avery grins. "From what I've heard, she started drinking as soon as she entered the changing rooms. Apparently had a bottle of Firewhiskey stored in her locker for emergency reasons."

"I don't blame her!" Dominique says, enthused. "She deserves it. All those times out teambuilding seemed to have done the trick!"

"You know what I've heard?" Hannah says with a childlike beam, leaning forward eagerly. "I went to the changing rooms after the game because I was their lucky charm, obviously, and Eric said something about Rowan saying she could have kissed him after that goal he saved. So, if anything.... Rowan plus excitement plus Firewhiskey plus Eric equals... something good."

"I sure hope so!" Juliet remarks. "Oh, and Dom?"

"Yeah?" says Dominique.

Juliet smiles. "You're on drunk friend duty, don't forget."

The redhead groans. "How could I? It's all you've been reminding me of ever since I drew the short straw when our sticks were practically the same length." Dominique sighs. "But mine was shorter."

     "And you know it," says Juliet complacently. "Come on, lets get down. We've gotten ready long enough."

     Juliet and Hannah filed out of the door, and Avery was about to follow suit when Dominique grabbed onto the material of her knit cardigan, yanking her back. Avery looks to Dominique, scowling.

     "What?" She exclaims offensively. "You could've put a hole in my cardigan! Jem sent me this from Copenhagen!"

     "You're so dramatic," says Dominique, scoffing, "I'd never intentionally ruin a cardigan that nice. But, you're gonna have to help me on drunk friend duty."

     "Why? I have way better things to d—"

     "Because, Aves, Hannah hasn't yet found out about you gambling on her with Nico Valdez and of someone were to tell her...."

     "You wouldn't dare! I can't believe you, my best friend, are threatening me!"

     Dominique sighs as an act of surrender. "Okay, I tried," she says, "But I'm desperate! We have six of our friends out there drinking tonight and I do not want to handle them all on my own. I just — please can you help me tonight? No threat involved. Just one best friend desperately in need. Please?"

     After a moment's deliberation on the spot, Avery nods. "Fine," she says, "I can help you. It's not like I was even planning on drinking that much anyways."

    With Dominique's exclamation of joy, they both bound down the stairs of Ravenclaw Tower down into the thronging and vibrant common room, the stars decorating the astronomical ceiling like miniature disco lights, having been somehow enchanted to flash with multicolours, blinking down onto tables filled with delicacies, bottles of Butterbeer and other substances. The best word to describe it was... chaotic. A record player was emitting loud, discordant jazzy songs, to which most occupants were dancing along to, their bodies giddy with excitement and swaying along enthusiastically amidst the swarm. Rowan Hamilton was certainly deep within the dancing crowd, her hips swaying curvaceously from beneath the miniskirt and bralette hugging her figure, a euphoric smile on her face as she grew more intoxicated by the second with the bottle of Firewhiskey held in a flimsy grip in her hand.

"Okay — wow, what a party," says Avery, her eyes widening in surprise at how quickly the party managed to take off. Lucky for her, there were no fourth years or below present to oust. No teachers would dare interrupt the party anyways — unless it got really out of hand (wasn't that what the Head Boy and Head Girl were there for?) and if anything, Avery was sure that if the Ravenclaw Head Professor Flitwick had the chance, he would join in on the party himself. Well, if there was a chance his poor dwarf figure wouldn't get stampeded on or be used to crowd-surf.

"Yeah," breathes Dominique. Her eyes widen as she spots something far off in the chaotic scene, "Oh, shit, Julian's gonna attempt to climb on top of that bookcase, I—fucks sake!"

Avery raises an eyebrow with amusement as she sees exactly what Dominique was talking about, and how the redhead was grasping through the teeming crowd and over to the clearly drunk blond, who was in fact trying to use a chair to get on top of the ornate bookcase for whatever reason was inside the intoxicated mind of Julian's. Her eyes wander over to a sofa and for a moment confuses herself when she recognises the handsome, flaxen-haired male sat slumped on one of the sofas. She furrows her eyebrows as she strides over, dropping herself on the sofa opposite the Slytherin.

"How on earth did you, Nico Valdez, a Slytherin, get into a Ravenclaw party?"

Nico looks up. There was a bottle of Firewhiskey in his hand and he was absently flicking the cap of the bottle, as if debating to open it up and chug it down into the warping cascades of his mind. He grins, flaking a hand through his already matter hazel tresses. But his smile lacked the usual smug air that usually flew through him so effortlessly.

"I have my ways," says Nico with an effortless shrug.

"Your team literally lost! To my team!"

"Exactly," Nico quips, tilting the bottle her way. "Exactly my reason to drink."

Avery frowns. "Why do you seem... sad?"

"What makes you say that?" retorts Nico. "For all you know, I could just be moping because my team lost—"

"You look like my next-door neighbours sad puppy when they refuse to give him doggy biscuits. And you lack the conceited smirk too."

"You saying I look like a dog?"

"I'm saying you don't seem happy." Avery tells him. Perhaps it could've been because his team lost and he lost ten galleons, but to Avery... it seemed like something more. "And we're "besties", as you loved to put it earlier. Tell me what's wrong!"

Avery pauses for a minute, and a look of revelation overcomes her as her mouth parts open slightly. "Unless..." she says, "Unless you're sad you... didn't get your date with Hannah?"

Nico looks up for a second, a deprecatory chuckle escaping him. "Is it that obvious?"

"Wait," says Avery, "You... like her? For definite?"

The other boy nods, a sigh escaping him. "Yeah... I do. We both have Astronomy together and I see the way her face lights up in the night and... wow, she's amazing. She's adorable, she's gorgeous, she's hardworking... Even if she treats stars like they're real people and her best friends she's just... I don't know how but I really, really like her."

A smile breaks out across Avery's lips. This was somewhat... touching to hear. Hannah was all of those things, and it was quite... sweet for Nico to have had such regard for all of them. But she couldn't understand what made him so doubtful... If he wanted to go out with Hannah, surely he could just ask her rather than counting on a bet?

"What, then?" Avery asks him. "If you want to ask her out, just do it!"

"It's like you said!" Nico says regrettably. "I'm conceited! She'd never want to go out with me!"

"Nico!" She scolds, frowning. "That might be the case, but you'll never know until you ask her!"

Their conversation is interrupted when a figure is plopped onto the sofa beside Avery — the figure namely Julian. Dominique stood beside the disheveled boy, seemingly exasperated.

"You need to watch him, Aves," pants Dominique. She frowns in Nico's direction, "Valdez, what are you doing h— Never mind. I think Ben's about to reach for another bottle of alcohol."

The redhead left them with a heaved sigh before either of the three sat on the sofa could retaliate, leaving Avery to quaintly pat the blond's shoulder as he pouts, slouching into his stance.

"I wanted to fly!" Julian says with a petulant pout. "That old hag just had to keep me from making my dreams come true."

     "What happened to becoming an Auror?" Avery asks amusedly.

     Julian frowns. "Flying is more important." He reaches for a spare bottle of Firewhiskey laying on one of the side tables. Before he's able to lay his hands on it, Avery smacks them and snatches the bottle out of his grasp. Julian's eyebrows turn in furiously. "What was that for!"

     "You aren't drinking a single sliver more of Firewhiskey," reprimands Avery. "Here—" she picks up a nearby plastic red cup filled with liquid and after sniffing it, satisfied it didn't have a trace of alcohol and was purely water, she thrusts it in his face, "—Have some water."

     Julian huffs a puff of breath through his mouth. "But water is bad!"

     Avery rolls her eyes. "Just drink it."

     The other boy had no option but to abide, taking sheepish, grudging sips from the cup, slouching back into the navy, plush material of the sofa.

     Turning back to the bemused, waiting boy, Avery smiles at Nico. "Where were we? Ah, yes. You thinking you're not good enough for Hannah!"

     Nico furrows his eyebrows. "And you think I am?"

     "Nicholas Valdez," says Avery dramatically, "I think you're only as good as you make yourself out to be. Why should my opinion matter when you can be whosoever you choose to be?"

     Nico furrows his eyebrows again. "So you think I should ask her out?"

     Avery smiles, sighing. "Yes, Nico. At least do it before she's convinced the bunnies have started asking her out. Or even worse, the stars!"

"That would be good, Aves... only problem is, I've never actually asked someone out. Or been on a date."

The question takes Avery by surprise, that her eyes widen and her mouth drops open. She couldn't believe that someone like Nico would have never been on a date. He was handsome! Surely he wouldn't have had much girl trouble...?

"You're joking?" Avery poses incredulously. "I... find that hard to believe."

Nico shrugs his shoulders sheepishly. "It's... the truth. As embarrassingly exposing as it is."

Avery looks contemplatively at Nico, her hands fumbling with the amber bottle that somehow made its way into her grasp when Julian attempted to take it for himself.

"Well," says Avery. She smiles. "We have to do something about that, don't we?"

"Yes," says Nico. The infamous smirk returns to his face and Avery feels herself elate slightly. "And I know just the thing."

"Oh, yeah?"

"A bet."

"Oh?" Avery perks up an eyebrow. For Nico to bet against something with Avery did not come off as absurd itself, but rather, the situation it's been brought up in.

Nico grins. "Me and you. Whoever finishes their bottle first... the other has to be the one to ask out Hannah for me."

It took Avery a few moments to realise that Nico was referring to the bottle of Firewhiskey nestled in her hands, the amber tint of the glass contrasting brightly against the textured beige fabric of her cardigan. And she thought there was one big error with his proposition: she wasn't meant to drink. She was meant to stay sober and help Dominique voluntarily (though completely by force) with drunk friend duty.

But nonetheless, Avery sniggers. "That's the cheat's way into dating, Nico. Since when have you had to resort to such tactics?"

Nico shrugs meekly. "Since I've always been a cunning Slytherin, not a courageous Gryffindor. And since when have you been one to shy away from a bet?"

"Touché." Avery says with a helpless grin. "But... I'm not meant to be drinking..."

"Since when has that ever stopped you?" Nico snorts loudly. "Oh—wait—I know!" He grins slyly, before saying, "Since you became Head Girl you've lost your touch."

Avery's mouth shoots open, then closes. Then opens, then closes again. "I—" she begins, "Thats not true. I've not lost my touch. I—you—"

"Ah, excuse me, then." Nico remarks complacently. "You've simply become boring."

"Nico!"

"Okay, okay. But still, when have you ever shied away from a bet?"

"I— well—I just," Avery sighs. Nico wasn't wrong. Avery had never been one to shy away from a bet, and perhaps she did feel bad for the boy and his personal doubts... But looking at the bottle grown inadvertently in her lap, and the pleading though provoking grin of the boy in front of her, Avery couldn't help but think it might not have been such a bad idea... Perhaps one bottle wouldn't do much damage... And anyways, if she was able to down the bottle first, then she'd be exempt from asking Hannah out for Nico and the boy would have to do it himself... The idea didn't seem too terrible. . .

———

. . . THE IDEA WAS ABSOLUTELY, COMPLETELY, AND UTTERLY TERRIBLE. Despicable, even.

That was the thought racing through Dominique Hawthorne's mind as she exhaustively clambered through the blinking, multicoloured lights of the Ravenclaw common room, tinted in an aquamarine shade through the bustling of bodies playing enticing, provocative games huddled up in inclusive circles on the floor, or having to scrunch her face in disgust at a making out pair. Rowena, Dominique hates Avery right now.

     But, yes. It was a truly horrible idea. Avery was meant to be the one helping Dominique reining in all their drink friends when she'd gone off and gotten drunk herself! She didn't know where Avery had gotten to, but Dominique has a foreboding thought in her mind. An exasperated sigh left Dominique's mind as she continued to scramble through the rambunctious common room, searching out for the intoxicated Head Girl.

     (Merlin, it was difficult to believe that this girl was the Head Girl at this point in time.)

     Alas, she was found crouched intently in a huddle of students she wouldn't likely interact with had she been sober. She looked far from sober, if anything, her doe-like, glazed eyes paying attention to the game of Truth or Dare in the corner of the room.

     Dominique had no idea how on earth she would be able to get her best friend... away. From the party, from human contact. It was a brain-racking choice, but it seemed like the only thing she could do was trod her leather thigh-high boots all the way to the Head's dorm in the dead of night, where she was sure to get aid from the roommate of her best friend.

     (Charlie was nice, okay? And he was Head Boy... technically, this was his responsibility.)

And this is exactly what made Dominique leave her common room momentarily and in front of the portrait of the vexatious Sir Cadogan, slumbering against a patch of grass, making her question just the types of things she would do to fulfil a message, especially to that of her traitorous best friend.

"Sir Cadogan," says Dominique.

No answer. The horse, also resting, made a movement of unrest.

"Sir Cadogan," repeats Dominique.

No answer from the knight himself. The horse however, got to its feet.

"Sir Cadogan!"

Again, no answer from Sir Cadogan, despite the tries of his trusty horse.

Dominique sighs. She was exhausted. She was only left with one option.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," mutters Dominique into her palm. "Sir Cadogan, I challenge you to a duel!"

As if automatically, Sir Cadogan hops to his feet, seemingly having not been asleep moments ago. He puffs his chest up, looking to an exasperated Dominique firmly under the eye.

"You're up," she breathes in relief.

"And who are you, fine maiden?"

"Dominique."

"You, Lady Dominique, of Clan...—"

"Hawthorne—?"

"Lady Dominique of Clan Hawthorne challenges me to a duel at this ungodly hour of the night!" Sir Cadogan exclaims triumphantly. "I accept!"

Dominique sighs, rubbing a hand across her face. "Great," she says, "Let's pretend I won and open the portrait as my reward so that I can help my completely undeserving friend, Lady Carmichael. Please can you let me inside?"

"This is an atrocity!" He exclaims hotly, thrusting his sword high in the air. "This is not a technicality I am partial to! I won't allow it! Either you tell me the password or—"

Dominique doesn't wait another second listening to his incessant threats. "Password, what's the password..." The redhead mutters to herself. "Something about a whistle... splatterwhistle? No, that's stupid. Swordwhistle? No, something sounding like splinter... splint... spint... SPINTWHISTLE!"

Sir Cadogan stops dead in his ramblings. He looks Dominique furiously in the eyes. "I am disappointed in your tact. You may enter, but know this — the courageousness of your Irish ancestors as shown by the colour of your tresses is no match for your behaviour. You're a coward—!"

As Dominique briskly enters the common room, she takes a money to glance at her deep red locks, thinking, I don't have Irish ancestors—?

The common room was firmly lit when she entered. She hardly had time to marvel in it's extravagance when she immediately spotted a kindred head of red hair with his body laying down longways on the maroon sofa, a book open between his hands. Charlie's head turns sharply towards the door when he hears someone enter, and his eyes furrow upon seeing Dominique.

He begins to find himself into an awkward sitting position, still looking at Dominique as if she were an alien.

"Erm—Dominique?"

"Hi, Charlie," Dominique replies, having no awareness until now of how out of breath she sounded.

"Um—is everything okay? What — what are you doing here?"

"I need your help," says Dominique, "It's Avery."

"Oh," says Charlie. He frowns. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine." Dominique grimaces. "Better than fine, actually. She's... drunk."

"Oh," says Charlie. His eyes widen as the realisation hits him. Drunk Avery... that would be a spectacle. "So... we need to get her here?" He estimates.

"Yeah, we do." Dominique breathes a long inhale. Charlie arches an eyebrow at her. "It's been a long night, Weasley."

"...Okay." Charlie says. "Just... give me a minute. I'll get a jacket—"

Dominique narrows her eyebrows, scanning up and down Charlie's jogger bottoms and T-shirt, "You're fine like that, I don't really think people will car—"

"It's nearly twelve, I'm wearing my pyjamas while you're wearing that outfit with those death contraptions you call boots. Not to mention, we're gonna be carrying a drunk girl back with us. Forgive me if I want to seem... decent."

"Okay, okay." Dominique concedes. "Just... hurry up. And were you reading Pride and Prejudice? That's Avery's favourite book."

"Yeah, I know." Charlie snorts. "It's her book. I'd never let any book of mine get that demolished. It's... falling apart."

     "That, indeed," Dominique chuckles.

     Charlie grins, zipping up his jacket. "Let's go rescue a steaming Carmichael!" As they leave the place, Sir Cadogan shouting incessantly after them, Dominique finds herself turning to the boy beside her.

     "Um—does Sir Cadogan ever call you... Irish?"

     "Actually... yeah, he does!" Charlie answers pleasantly. "It must be the—"

     "Hair?"

     Charlie frowns. "I was gonna say freckles but sure, that too..."

     The walk to Ravenclaw Tower wasn't that long, and before long they were stood in front of the majestic eagle, standing tall above them. As usual, one had to answer a riddle before being permitted entrance into the eagle's nest. Charlie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at what was supposed to happen, until a glossy, matured voice erupted from the eagle:

     "You live in a one-storey house made entirely of redwood. What colour would the stairs be?"

     "Redwood," Dominique says to herself, "Redwood, redwood. It would be too easy to say red but I'll just say it to clear it out?"

     "Incorrect," came from the metallic structure.

     "Okay," says Dominique. "What, then? Brown wood?"

     "Incorrect."

     Dominique huffs in aggravation. "Can you repeat the riddle, please?"

     "You live in a one-storey house made entirely of redwood. What colour would the stairs be?"

     "Um, okay. The stairs... it's not red, but—"

     "There wouldn't be any stairs?" says Charlie. "It's a one-storey house... it must be a trick question. There's no stairs in a one-storey house." He looks uo at the largs statue of the eagle. "Yeah?"

     "Correct."

     Dominique looks at Charlie in astonishment as the passageway opens, leading in with the faint sound of music booming ahead. "You are a genius, Charlie Weasley."

     He grins. "So I'm told."

     "And cocky. No wonder you're a Gryffindor," Dominique rolls her eyes, as they enter the common room. She takes notice of the way Charlie's eyes revolve around the room, widened, taking in every set of decorum, from the large statue of Rowena Ravenclaw to the streamers and banners flailing uncharacteristically across her chest.

     "It doesn't always look like this," says Dominique. "Usually people aren't drunk."

"Figured," says Charlie. He's dodging many of the people surrounding him, most of which have clumsy footfalls, dopey, lope-sided grins as they laugh inharmoniously loudly, in the stuffy common room, the lighting blue, dusky and murky. He's hoping no one is here thinking that the Head Boy is getting them into trouble. That would be the start of trouble in its entirety. Charlie didn't exactly think this would be the circumstance that he'd have to be in to see the Ravenclaw tower.

"I think I see her!" Dominique shouts over the music. They're pressed in the midst of the crowd, and it's becoming increasingly suffocating. Charlie was glad Dominique found Avery, he wanted to get out of there. Lucky for him, most people were too drunk to figure the Gryffindor Head Boy, out of place in the Ravenclaw common room. And he could, in fact, see the persona of Avery Carmichael, in the blueish depths of the room.

Her back flush against a stone pillar, an eagle model at the top, her arms were folded loosely, and the cream knit cardigan she wore was slipping down the side of her arm, exposing the bare flesh of her shoulder, which jutted outwards slightly. Her strawberry blonde tresses, half of it tied up swiftly with a hair tie, straggled at the ends unkemptly, and her makeup had nearly completely vanished. There was a tinge to her cheeks, positively flushed, and most definitely a loose, half-minded grin along her lips. She giggles freely at whatever's being said to her, for there was a boy, completely irreverent to the situation, his weight against the side of the pillar, and an arm leans above her head as he whispers something into her ear, his smirk frisky. Charlie doesn't know why, but looking at this interaction made him feel uneasy, and he hoped something would happen to either get Avery out of the situation, or to distract the guy (Charlie recognises him as a Ravenclaw in their year, but at this moment, he didn't really care about who he was) away from the Head Girl.

     The guy edges closer to the slightly senseless Head Girl, and a tentative finger begins to move across, and its clear to anyone his intention to touch her soft, heated skin, until—

"Move along, Griffin," says Dominique. Her hand has caught ahold of the wrist of the boy — Griffin — and she's flung it away. "Go creep elsewhere."

Both eyes dart towards the female redhead. Griffin, who's eyebrows have knitted together, and Avery, who looks perplexed and still kind of calm. A thing about Avery when she's drunk: she's not a rowdy person. She's kind of senseless and has no idea of what goes on around her. But she laughs really easily. She's a bit of a... calm drunk. But Dominique and Charlie thought she didn't seem that drunk, by the ways he acknowledged their presence by pushing off the wall and inching towards her best friend. (A bit clumsily, given the wall was her main source of support as a result of not being able to walk straight.) Charlie releases a breath he didn't know he was holding when Dominique managed to prevent Griffin's hand from making contact.

"What's your problem, Hawthorne?" Griffin drawls out slowly, attempting to stand tall though stumbling when his arm dropped from the pillar.

"My problem," Dominique retaliates, "is you perving on my best friend. So please, go off and find someone else to creep on. In fact — creep on no one, Griffin. Have some fucking respect."

(Dominique knew that Griffin probably wasn't in his best senses and that the alcohol did bad things to him too. But to hell was she going to let her best friend get creeped on, when she hardly had any idea herself.)

Griffin takes a step backwards, colliding with a table. But he doesn't move, and instead stands tall again. So it's Charlie who moves forward. He, the actual only sober one, is physically capable of standing tall. Though Griffin is the taller one of the two, Charlie has this look on his face that's able to make your senses pale and think that yes, this boy has it in him to become a dragon tamer. He takes another step towards him, and Charlie stares Griffin dead in the eyes.

Charlie clears his throat. "You heard what Dominique said, Griffin. Have some respect, and move along."

     It takes a couple of seconds for Griffin to react. But his expression does seem to die down, and after seeing Charlie remain prominent in his imposing stare and with no intention to back down, he begins to stumble away, taking slashing glances back at them as he does so.

     "Phew," says Dominique, as she takes one of Avery's arms and loops it around her shoulders. "Now we know why you're the Head Boy." She turns her head to look at the dazed Avery, "Let's go, Aves."

     Avery frowns, resistant in Dominique's pull. "Where?"

     "Your room," Dominique tells her. "It's bed time."

     "No, it-it-it is not!" says Avery. "The party is s-still going on—"

     "And you can't even walk in a straight line, Aves. We need to go."

     "Is that why you brought Bir-dee over?"

     Both Dominique and Charlie take a second to realise she was talking about him. The Birdie, obviously. Avery giggles a little at his bewildered look.

     "Pretty much," says Dominique, nodding. "Come on, Aves—!"

     "No!" Avery huffs. "I'm fine. 'M havin' fuuuun! I have to staaaay—"

     Dominique sighs exasperatedly. "You're impossible, Avery!"

     Avery only lifts her chin, her head held high. "I'm fine, Dom-en-eeq, see—" She snatches her arm from around Dominique's shoulders and attempts to proceed forward, her cardigan falling off of both shoulders, only to have her ankles fold over and crashing down to the ground. Another groan escapes Dominique, and she punches the bridge of her nose, internally cursing herself and the deities who ever allowed people to drink.

Meanwhile it's Charlie who descends down to the ground. With a grimace, he looks to her, seated and with her legs folded on top of each other as people are dancing and crowding all around them.

"Point proven?" says Charlie.

"Point proven," Avery mutters, reluctantly, petulantly, huffing under her breath.

She attempts to pull the arms of her sleeves back on, but they remain to sag off her shoulders, but gives up when this time, Charlie wraps an arm around her shoulders, and she doesn't retaliate. He also wraps his other arm around the bare flesh of her waist, and helps to pull her to her feet. Avery's skin is prickling hot to the touch, and it almost causes the heat to rise up his cheeks, but Charlie ignores this. Probably because of all the people in the room, he think to himself.

     "Come on," Charlie says, more so to an aggravated Dominique than Avery, who grew exhausted in all of her resistance attempts. She gave up, and now allows for her body weight to lean into the side of Charlie, and his strong, enduring frame was more than accommodating.

     Dominique eventually quits her small pity party, and trudges ahead, clearing a path for a forbearing Charlie and a limp Avery. When they reach the stairs going down, they figure it's best for Dominique to also hold onto Avery to avoid any further risk of unforeseen circumstances, and they manage to just get down safe. And as they enter back into the corridors, Dominique stops both Charlie and Avery from proceeding, the boy's arms still around the mindless Head Girl.

     "Wait," says Dominique, spinning around. She purses her lips, thinking for a second, before tugging her cardigan off, revealing her bare arms and midriff, clothed only partially by the cropped tube top. Dominique throws the cardigan on top of Avery's head, so that her face couldn't be seen. Avery didn't even retaliate at this point. But Charlie gave her a look, and she shrugs. "What? What do you think a teacher will say if they find out the Head Girl was drinking at a party? She should be hidden."

Charlie nods, humming in understanding. Dominique is their guide as she clicks her way through very indiscreetly through the noises of her massive boots, and she's on the lookout for any teachers. But the corridors are empty, and they make it to the portrait of Sir Cadogan unscathed and secure. Even Sir Cadogan hadn't questioned them as they uttered the password, and guided a blind Avery into the Heads' Dormitory.

"Okay," says Dominique, exhaling a relieved sigh. "I'm going to get Aves changed into her pyjamas. Where's her room—"

     "There," Charlie tells her, motioning to the slightly adjacent door to the right with the blue name plaque stuck to it. Dominique thanks Charlie, and takes Avery by the upper arm into her bedroom, the door shutting behind them.

     He waits for a small while, unsure of what exactly to do, but clings onto the edges of his arms. And then he notices the book on the coffee table, the one he'd impulsively began reading, Avery's book. Pride and Prejudice. Perhaps it wasn't his exact taste in books, but he did find it... interesting. (Would've been better if dragons were involved, of course.) But he tore his eyes away when the door opened, and a disheveled Dominique appeared, Avery behind her. She was no longer in the black top or blue jeans, or the cardigan that she was barely wearing, but in a light blue T-shirt and grey pyjama bottoms. The hair bobble had fallen out at some point, but her cheeks were still flushed, and her eyes dilated.

     "Do you think you could take care of the rest from here?" Dominique asks Charlie. "I would, but Juliet is still out there, and so is Rowan, and Julian — you get my problem?"

     "Oh, um, sure," answers Charlie, looking awkward and out of place. He'd have to take care of Avery? "What do I need to do?"

     "Get her makeup off, brush her hair and her teeth, get her some water, but, most of all, make sure she gets to sleep." Dominique looks at Charlie hesitantly, with her withered, exasperated glance. "Is that fine for you?"

     "Yeah, yeah, it's fine," says Charlie limply. "Um, good luck with your friends."

     Dominique gave him a weak attempt at a smile. "Thanks. Good luck with Aves."

     Dominique's footsteps left his earshot quicker than he anticipated, and now Charlie was left to stare at the girl looking wondrously around her room, as if she'd never stepped foot in there. So he takes a few compromising steps into her room, clears his throat to garner her attention, and gestures towards her bed.

     "Let's go, then?" He says. His voice was undoubtedly uneven and hesitant. Charlie's never had to take care of a drunk girl before, in case you haven't realised.

     Avery doesn't move. Instead, she lets out a small bundle of giggles, her shoulders hunching at her ears. Charlie frowns.

     "I'm getting put to bed by a birdie," she muses, laughing quietly.

     Charlie rolls his eyes, and lets out a half-hearted scoff. He shakes his head as he puts a hand to the small of her back, guiding her to sit down on the royal blue covers of her bed. She drops her backside on the bed with small impact. Charlie scratches his ear.

     "Um, how do I get the makeup off?" He asks.

     Avery, with a face unfathomably sober given her current state, says, "You have to snog me to get it off."

     Charlie's eyes widen. Like, when a telescope has its lenses changed and everything is so much bigger — that's literally Charlie's eyes right now. Did he—

     "I'm only kidding!" Avery breaks into a fit of giggles. Charlie has to let out a relieved sigh. If Sober Avery knew what Drunk Avery was like, she would probably be mortified. "They in the —hic— drawer."

     Her hand reaches up to her mouth as she begins to hiccup. Charlie furrows his eyebrows, before reaching down to her bedside and finding some makeup wipes. And a hairbrush, too. He brushes her hair first. He tries to be a bit gentle, since he doesn't really brush anybody's hair. He thinks one time Ginny tried to get him to brush her hair, but she got Bill to do it instead. Avery sits patiently with her hands in her lap and making odd conversation, which Charlie mostly answers with a raised eyebrow.

     "How does your hair get so messy if it's so smooth before you sleep?" Charlie eventually asks. He couldn't help it. After the initial noughts, the brush ran so smoothly through the strawberry blonde tresses, almost as if it glided.

     Avery shrugs, looking down. "If only—hic— I knew. I think my mum got cursed when I was born. I think they cursed her so that I would always end up with really bad hair in the morning."

     Charlie raises an eyebrow. Okay... He sets the hairbrush down, and plucks a makeup wipe from the packet. They were both sitting beside each other on the edge of the bed, and he scoots a little closer to her. He turns to face her, and with a hesitant finger, tilts her face towards his. He begins to clear her face of the smudged makeup and looks anywhere but her eyes, because she's looking directly at him, with those dilated, almost prodding eyes. He didn't know he was holding his breath back until he moves away from Avery's face, and lets the makeup wipe drop down onto his lap.

"Um, wait here." He says. "I'm going to get you some water for the hiccups."

     Charlie gets to his feet, and avoids Avery's somewhat virtuous stare as he leaves the room
shortly to fill up a glass with water from the tap in the kitchenette. He walks back to Avery's side of the Heads' Dormitory, only to find that the spot where she sat was now vacant and there only laid a creased indent into the blue bedsheets. He frowns, not having a clue where she went until he heard a retching sound coming from the bathroom.

     He sets the glass down onto the bedside table, and hurried into the bathroom and rightly enough, Avery was there, bent over at the toilet bowl, spewing up whatever she'd consumed that day. The revolting smell lingered in the air, and all Charlie could do to offer support was gather the hair falling down the sides of her face. He scrunches his face at the sight of the vomit and the smell that accompanied it, but holds her hair above and rubs her back with his free hand, looking the other direction.

     "Let it out," he says, "let it all out."

It takes a few minutes of Avery hunched over the toilet and Charlie holding her straggled hair and patting her back soothingly, but she eventually stops and drops to the floor tiles, her arms heaved upon the edges of the toilet seat. She slowly lifts her head, looking up at Charlie with exasperated expression and her chest heaving up and down with every harsh breath. He presses his lips into a line, and holds a hand out. She takes it, and rises to her feet. Charlie keeps an arm supported around her back.

"You good?" He asks her carefully.

She nods. "I will absolutely hate myself in the morning."

Charlie can not help but let out a half hearted chuckle. He helps her to brush her teeth, and then guides her to her bed, helping her to get in between the covers and tucks her in safely. Charlie perches himself on the edge of her bed, and he gives her the glass of water to drink.

"How did you even get like this?" asks Charlie, referring to her drunken state.

"Nico Valdez," she answers with a sheepish smile. "We made a bet, and I—shit. I am really going to hate myself in the morning."

Charlie has no idea what exactly she's talking about, but she has encountered Nico Valdez before, in all of his coy, mischievous glory. But he lets her sip on the water slowly, and eventually she comes to the end of it, setting the tall glass on the bedside drawer.

"Can I tell you something?" She asks him.

     Charlie nods.

     "You have really pretty eyes."

     "Oh?"

     (He knew it was the alcohol talking.)

     "They're like waves in the ocean." She elaborates. "They sparkle. And they contrast against the hair. It's the same with Dominique, and with my Mum too. I'm jealous. I wish I had blue eyes."

Charlie can't help but smile. He looks at her eyes, the fern green, dilapidated, exhausted irises. "I take it your eye colour came from your Dad, then?"

"I think so." She admits.

"You think so?"

She shrugs. "It's probably true. But I haven't seen my Dad in years."

Charlie frowns. He'd never heard much about her Dad from her, ever. "Your parents are divorced?"

Avery shrugs again. "Something like that."

It's silent again, and Charlie looks down at his hands. Though she's more sober than she was an hour ago, Avery surveys him with an intensity that he knew would never have existed had she been more sober. And she looks at him in a way in which she could just see right through him. But it wasn't exactly... uncomfortable. Charlie didn't know what it felt like, being able to sense her watchful eyes on the side of his face.

"Can I ask you something?" She asks him.

"Yeah, sure," He answers, rubbing a hand tirelessly across his face. Taking care of people was difficult, he thinks.

"Are you happy in life?"

The question took Charlie by surprise. It was a simple question, with simple words, but with the most complex of meanings behind it. And it made him think. Was he happy? He thinks so. He thinks that spending his last year in Hogwarts as Head Boy, with his best friends, being on the verge of pursuing his dream career. And being able to have gotten through to Avery and pursuing a friend made him happy too.

"Yes," he says. "I think... I think I'm happy." He pauses, before asking her, "Are you?"

     She purses her lips, and it's obvious she's thinking. There's something so childlike about the way her hands are folded in her lap, the way her head is pointed forward, the way she looks between her hands and Charlie with such doe-like eyes.

     "I think I'm happy, too." Avery replies, her lips still pursed. "I wasn't at first... I was so annoyed about being Head Girl and about having my life change so much in so little time. I think change scares me. It might be something to do with my Dad... I don't know. But I don't like change. I didn't like the idea of having to become friends with you. But... I don't think I dislike the idea as much, anymore. I think I've changed. It doesn't scare me as much. I'm glad that we are friends." She pauses for a moment, before a smile starts crawling up her face, an adorable, innocent, toothy grin, and she realises, "My hiccups have gone."

     "The magic of water," Charlie says, laughing. He smiles. "Are you tired?"

     Her yawn confirmed it.

     "Okay," says Charlie, and he laughs.

     "I usually read before I sleep," says Avery.

     "Okay," he says. "Do you want me to get you a book?"

     "Please," she says. "Pride and Prejudice."

     Charlie smiles. "I was reading that earlier."

     Avery's face lit up slightly. "Do you like it?"

     Charlie shrugs. "It's not terrible. I'll go get it."

     He returns quickly, the tattered, worn book in his hands. He outstretches it to Avery, but she doesn't take it.

     "Read it to me?" She asks. "Please?"

     Charlie gives her an inquisitive stare, before eventually nodding and saying, "Okay." Again, he can't help but smile. "Where from?"

     "Just read from where you left off," she instructs. Avery smiles timidly, "I know all the pages by heart."

     "Okay," Charlie smiles. Avery pulls the duvet up to her neck as Charlie sits on the bedside next to her, and she snuggles down, looking at Charlie with youthful interest.

     "The manner in which they spoke of the Meryton assembly was sufficiently characteristic," Charlie begins. "Bingley had never met with more pleasant people or prettier girls in his life; everybody had been most kind and attentive to him; there had been no formality, no stiffness; he had soon felt acquainted with all the room; and, as to Miss Bennet, he could not conceive an angel more beautiful. Darcy, on the contrary, had seen a collection of people in whom there was little beauty and no fashion, for none of whom he had felt the smallest interest, and from none received either attention or pleasure. Miss Bennet he acknowledged to be pretty, but she smiled too much."

———

     "...He listened to her with perfect indifference while she chose to entertain herself in this manner;" Charlie continued on, a chapter or two having passed in the midst, "and as his composure convinced her that all was safe, her wit flowed long."

     It was undeniable that Charlie smiled when he pushed the edges of the book together. Avery had eventually fallen asleep, her eyelids closed reminiscently, her olive skin appearing effortlessly tender and soft to the touch. Now that it was just him, Charlie, and Avery was in her own unknown fantasy world, he looks around the room. It was undoubtedly different to his own. The walls of Charlie's were red and there were Gryffindor merchandise all over, while Avery's contrasted with Ravenclaw's instead. While he had dragon posters and books alike, Avery had a few different artefacts across hers, like various classical books, a few plants and a couple of posters of men in shorts and a T-shirt and a ball at their feet. Football, Charlie thinks. Also there was various makeup items, clothing and flowery pillows in the room. And a pile of parchment and ink and other stationery at her desk, and opened textbooks. There was a scarf pinned to her notice board, filled with notes and reminders of upcoming affairs, and the scarf reminded Charlie of one of the Hogwarts ones. Only, the stripes were white and green, which wasn't a Hogwarts house combination. But the scarf had a small emblem on it, with a four leaf clover and around it there were the following words: The Celtic Football Club. 1888. And there was a star above the emblem, too.

     (Funny how a person's room shows more about that person than their own words can, Charlie thinks.)

     On her bedside drawer, there were a couple of pictures next to the lamp. There was one that laid flat on the surface and had the bouncing images of a man, with dark raven hair and onyx eyes, and a pretty lady with golden blonde hair that was voluminous and spiralled in curls. There was a baby between them, and she was adorable. She looked a few months old, if anything. They were engulfed within each other, the baby in the arms of the man and the woman tickling the baby's cheeks. Charlie turned over the back of the photo, and saw a message.

Hi, Avery!

Baby Abigail said her first words! It was Mama, obviously. She loves her mother more. Also, in case she hasn't already told you, you mother is sending a headpiece over for the Ball. She had my input, too. Uncle Doug misses you, and Abbie is wishing to see her big cousin again! We miss you loads but we're so so so proud of our Head Girl niece!

Laurel

     Charlie smiles.

     The other, in a frame, and it was in front of a pretty cottage with blue, pink and violet flowers, and ivy branches crawling all along the fence. Avery was there, positively alight with euphoria, and it seemed to be a recent picture. There were two other people. A handsome boy who looked a few years older than them, with mousy brown hair and a charming smile. He was, without a doubt, Jeremiah Carmichael, Ravenclaw's "miracle" quidditch team captain, who won them the house cup. If you were in school at the same time as Jem and didn't know who he was, you'd be considered a reject. Because the entire school loved him. And now, the Carmichael legacy has expanded and Avery Carmichael is now Head Girl.

     (Oh, to be a Carmichael...)

     There's one more person in the photo. A woman who looks much older than the two that preceded her, though still seemed youthful. She had bright red hair just as Charlie did and it was wavy, and long, and she was pretty. And she had blue eyes too. So Charlie figures this was Avery's mother.

     Eventually, he decides to stop being so intrusive and tears his eyes away from the pictures. He looks back to Avery, soundlessly asleep. So innocent. Charlie doesn't know what posses him next, but a hand reaches out, and one of his fingers gently caresses a strand of hair out of her face, and strokes her cheek... her skin was still pricking hot to the touch, and her breathing was now even, unlike that of when she was bent over at the sink earlier. He sets the book down on the bedside table with a pat, and stands up. He looks back to Avery once more, and sighs.

     "Goodnight, Avery."

     Drunk words were sober thoughts, they say. Avery had, without a doubt, freed her thoughts today, and let go of the boundary she holds herself behind so much. So it touched Charlie, in the soft, tender part of his heart, that Avery cherished the friendship between them.

     He cherished the friendship between them too.

***

THIS WAS SO LONG—

i apologise if there were loads of mistakes omg or like sloppy language i hardly had any time to check over this and wanted to get it done in time for mar's bday ❤️❤️❤️ this is for you my g💖💖💖💖💖💖

ive anticipated writing this chapter for so long but idk if it met my expectations.... I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED IT THO!!!! they have my ❤️

(also i hardly ever write drunk characters so i apologise if i didn't do it that well eye—)

i hope you guys enjoyed this chap and that you're all doing well💓💓 go wish mar a happy bday pls and thank you <3