What is there to say about a broken girl who's life collapsed before her at the tender age of 15? A lot, but she would never admit to that, because the wall that protected her grew taller and taller with each passing day.
"ANOTHER BRICK IN THE WALL"...
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chapter twenty three; the kiss
word count 4219
Oh, how McGonagall did love her Gryffindors. The pride, the courage, the tall, shiny gold cup that's stowed proudly in the display case against her office wall every year or so but, dear merlin, as they threw another end of the year rendezvous in the common room, she wondered how they were so bloody loud.
They'd regret it in the morning, the pints of booze being chugged down their throats, the out-of-tune stamping off feet as they pranced around to music, the drunken mistakes: kisses, jokes, insults, the small touches, the volume- especially the games.
The Gryffindor common room was packed full of people. Crowds bustled against each corner of the room, trying to shimmy enough space for dance moves in between the slurps of the Firewhiskey that Sirius and Remus snuck in from Hogsmeade earlier that day. The makeshift dance floor was almost too slippering to even dance on since, as Remus and Sirius snuck into Hogsmeade earlier that day, they dropped three of their beloved drink on the floor and, since guests had already begun to pile into the cramped room from as early as six o'clock, they had no speck of time to even begin to think about clearing it up. Therefore, some had taken to dancing on furniture. Couches, armchairs, wooden tables apparently sturdy enough to hold four people, not to the surprise of any of the Marauders, who had claimed to have started the trend of dancing on tables as early as their third year.
It was the end of the year party. The official celebration. The 'second-biggest party of the year' of course not counting the parties they held in June, the 'we are almost free, let's just get a shit ton of hangover's parties.' People had been whispering, gossiping, sharing every tiny detail that they could wiggle out from James, who loved to boast about the nature of the parties, for the past week which didn't help any of the boys' egos at all. Of course, the four of them, besides Peter, who still seemed to cower in his friend's spotlight, had been walking around as kings for the past week as well, telling anyone that asked that the party was going to be ' the biggest shabang in the fucking century!' Not helping the rumors, of course, nor their far from pristine reputation.
The only thing Lily Evans had noticed, which she whispered to Sylvia about in their sixth-period History Of Magic lesson, was that James, still newly appointed head-boy, had been getting in too much less trouble than he had in the previous years and, had not even begun to have been such an arrogant git than just months beforehand.
Yet, this streak had seemingly come to an end as Head-boy, idol, responsible James Potter chugged down another glass of Firewhiskey, setting his party record to be as high as four pints in six minutes, and thirty seconds but he had chosen to ignore that. Sirius Black, notorious for his rule-breaking abilities, had taken to tattooing himself, and anyone that dared to ask for ink on their skin, on the leather couch. At the current moment, in his very intoxicated state, he tattooed an innocent Hufflepuff fourth year, merely fifteen years old who had requested his boyfriend's name on his forearm.
