Liar, Liar

30: Dumbledore's Office

Malfoy and I had ended up crashing on the floor of the Slytherin common room, Potter's cloak thrown somewhere in the corner of the room, the map crumpled on the couch.

We had drank our brains out.

Malfoy couldn't face killing my father.

I couldn't face the fact that the only man I had ever wanted all of would never give me all of himself.

I sat up slowly, rubbing my temples as I nudged Malfoy awake. It was a Wednesday morning and I had already missed my transfiguration classes.

I swore under my breath as I pushed Malfoy.

"What?" He grumbled.

"We missed our first two hours, idiot," I snapped, although I had been the one to suggest we get completely wasted.

He had only supplied the firewhiskey.

"Not my fault," he grumbled, getting to his feet, unsteady.

"Then whose damn fault is it?" I retorted with a laugh.

"Snape's," Malfoy muttered, making me crack up.

"Let's blame it on that old bat," I laughed, making Malfoy crack up.

"If anyone asks, he gave us the drinks," I egged him on.

He smirked.

"Let's clean this shit up," I said, starting to throw some bottles into the trash. "Riss is probably worried about me."

"I always thought she was hot," Malfoy yawned.

"Even when you manipulated her?" I asked.

"Yeah, even then," Malfoy sounded regretful.

"She's with Jack now," I informed him.

"Oh, really?" He snapped sarcastically.

Suddenly, an owl barged through the windows of the common room, pecking and clawing at Malfoy and I.

"We've got mail," Malfoy said observantly, running his hands through his hair.

The owl dropped four letters in front of us. Two were from Dumbledore. His letter requested to see both of us at the same time in his office, but specifically stated that we could take our time.

The second letter was from Snape.

"I'm not opening mine," I stated defiantly.

Malfoy shrugged. "Mine is about Advanced Potions," he said.

I shrugged, hoping mine would be about the same thing, although I had dropped it. He was probably sending me the last of my grades.

Nine O'clock.

That was all that was written in the letter. I knew exactly what it meant.

"Mine's about that too," I assured Malfoy.

I had a choice to make tonight. But first, Dumbledore.

"Let's get to Dumbledore's," I stated, brushing my hair out with my fingers.

Malfoy agreed, and we cleaned ourselves up as much as possible before going to see what he wanted from us.

I had a feeling that it had to do with last night or this morning. We had both skipped our first two classes, and Snape probably assumed it was Potter sneaking around last night, so I wasn't too worried about getting in trouble for that.

We headed up to Dumbledore's main office, snickering about the fact that every other student in the building was most likely in class. The corridors were quiet, the only sound being our quiet steps.