The Cursed Ones

Chapter Fourteen: A Boy and His Book

Trigger warning: Non-consentual voyeurism. I promise it actually pertains to the story and isn't just some unnecessary dramatic detail.

The Slytherin common room is fully packed. Loud music reverberates deeply through the room, hitting the stone walls and repeatedly testing the strength of the silencing charms we have cast around the dungeon dormitories. Everyone looks particularly nice, but that's always the case with Slytherin parties. I myself have prepared for the part, spending an hour on my makeup and hair, and wearing a rhinestone chainmail top and skirt. My heels are a pale, dusty-toned pink, covered in satin and with ribbons wrapped up my ankles like ballerina shoes. Pansy and I are dancing together and attracting a crowd as we put on a rather sensual show with one another. Ketamine is electrifying my bloodstream, making me feel one with the music and energy of the room. I feel euphoric, and for the first time since the beginning of the school year, I'm completely relaxed and having fun.

As I'm whirling around Pansy, I spot a little clan of seventh year Hufflepuffs sipping at tall glasses of alcohol near the table of appetizers, dressed primly in pretty party outfits and trying to come off as cool. Once the song ends, I glide over to them, the ketamine bringing out the social butterfly in me. They smile at me, a little nervously. I grab a butterbeer off of the food and drink table behind them and sip at it as I look around at them.

"What are your names?" I inquire. "I think I've seen you around, but I don't think we've officially met."

A taller redheaded girl speaks up first. She's slender and pretty. A cream-toned silk slip drapes over her frame elegantly. "Lola," she tells me in an enticing and honeyed voice. She introduces the other two. She gestures to a curvy blonde whose face is wide-eyed and sweet, with freckles that smatter over her upper cheekbones and the arch of her nose. "This is Rosalie, and -" She points to a curly-haired Asian girl, whose bright smile seems to light her pretty face into a strong glow, "- this is Athena."

I smile. "I'm Noir."

"We know," Rosalie says, but then she stiffens a bit and her face deepens a few delicate shades of rose, as if she's embarrassed by her comment.

I feel a bit bad and try to put her at ease by giggling a bit. "Only good things, I hope," I tease a little. Rosalie bites her lip a little and smiles timidly. I'm not surprised by her nervous silence; my reputation is a bit trashed. I'm a mean girl, a villain of the school in the eyes of everyone else. It is a bit depressing, but with me being a Slytherin, it kind of comes with the territory. All of us have a reputation of being aloof and cold - only allegedly, of course, but truth and fiction hold no difference in this school. I laugh again. "Relax, it's cool."

I chat them up a bit, and soon enough, they've loosened up a little. It would have been a pity if they had spent the entire party nervously trying to avoid judgement. It is the first party of the year, after all. It is meant to be enjoyed. I find I quite like them. Lola is definitely a charmer, charismatic and likeable. Rosalie is endearingly kid-like in her bright outlook and innocent antics, but by no means immature. Athena is attractive, interesting, and witty, and quick to get into playful banter. She seems pretty adventurous as well, which is automatically a winner for me. I make a mental note to talk to them more often. I am nearing graduation, after all; I don't want to look back in a few years with regret over how I only socialized with other Slytherins. And I wouldn't mind being a kinder person in general. Stone cold bitch mode, if left on twenty four-seven, can get really old really quick, as well as boring.

Soon enough, we've exchanged amusing stories and I've exposed Pansy and Draco a bit. Pansy comes over, correct in her suspicion that I'm dishing out teasing stories about her. I smirk devilishly at her, but then she gleefully bombardes them with equally scandalous stories of me, and I ready myself to pull her through the crowd and away from the girls if her enthusiasm gets too out of control.