the siphon | h. potter

~nineteen~

cassandra

Although July was Paris's warmest month, it also brought many rainstorms. Tonight was no different. Cassandra groaned as she pulled the fabric of her wet dress away from her body. The thin satin clung to her skin and it was starting to become an annoyance.

"If you don't like your dress, I'd be more then happy to remove it for you," smirked Julien. He was one of the muggle friends Cassandra had made during her month in France. Julien was quiet a flirt, but she didn't mind. He helped Cassandra take her mind off things.

"And spoil the fun so soon?" Cassandra played along.

"I can not possibly see how that would spoil any fun."

"Come on, we're here," Cassandra rolled her eyes and pulled his arm.

Through the doorway was a large room filled to the brim with people. Artificial fog billowed toward the high ceilings in clouds and the beams of many different colored lights illuminated them. Music shook the walls and windows, but the voices of partiers were still audible. This was one of Cassandra's favorite nightclubs, and she was ready to enjoy it.

The dance floor was hot and sweaty as hundreds of bodies rolled and swayed across each other, the music guiding them. Soon enough, Julien joined her with a shot glass in each hand. He handed her the glass and they drank the burning liquid. After a few more, the night became much more enjoyable.

The room spun along with her hips as Cassandra danced. She was pretty far gone, but it was nothing new. Cassandra had spent the past few weeks in a haze of drinks and drugs. It was better than other things. Better than facing reality.

Cassandra was dancing with another one of her French friends when a man walked up behind her and pressed his body against hers. She turned her head around and pushed him off. The man stumbled backwards and Cassandra smirked triumphantly.

However Julien wasn't satisfied. He lunged forward and began throwing sloppy punches, hitting the drunk man. He only landed one or two before the crowd successfully separated them. Julien stepped toward Cassandra, but she turned away with a huff. She didn't want to see any more violence.

"Where are you going?" Julien drunkingly pleaded.

"I'm going back to my flat, you've spoiled the fun."

"Putain! I don't understand why you're so angry."

"Maybe because you started a fight with that loser! If you couldn't tell, I had it handled."

"But he was-"

"We're not dating, Julien. We're barely even friends," Cassandra repeated. Her heels scraped against the stone pathway as she exited the club. The absence of music left ringing inside the drums of her ears. For a moment the whole world was silent. Until Julien spoke again, but she ignored whatever it was he said and instead tried to get rid of him, "bonne nuit."

"I'm not letting you walk home alone," Julien argued, "you can barely walk."

"Fine, but you must keep your loud mouth shut."

Thankfully, Julien listened and didn't talk for the rest of the journey. They stumbled in silence all the way to the entrance of her flat. Cassandra raised her hand to turn the golden doorknob, but she hesitated.