The Cursed Ones

Chapter Twenty Two: Punishment, Protection, and Affection

(This is a bit of a long chapter but...here is the smut chapter, ladies.)

I don't see Mr. Fletcher Senior all of the rest of Friday; nor do I see him over the weekend. Any unease I felt on Friday dissipates, and I'm able to enjoy the weekend. All is normal and usual. Draco, Pansy, and I are carefree, and if possible, closer than ever. It is a blissful thing.

Sunday night brings Slytherin's second party of the year, and as usual, it is packed to near overflow. Of course they had to plan it on a Sunday night, right before Monday morning, and therefore, a full school day. But no matter. None of us are fazed. We've put ourselves through far worse.

The Slytherin parties have an unspoken, unofficial formal wear dress code, and I had gone pretty much all out in styling myself. In my hair are enchanted sparkles that mimic the faint, pinprick stars of the real night sky. My earrings are diamond studded crescent moons. My silver dress is short, sleeveless, and classy enough for a wealthy wedding. It sports the same starry sparkles that are in my hair, and it winks in and out in the dim green strobe lighting. My high heels match with the silver theme, and they also are flashing gently with enchanted star-like sparkles. Strands of silver and diamonds encircle my neck, tumbling down to lay in rest on my torso, and matching bracelets grace my pale wrists. I have an exquisite thigh chain of diamonds and silver around my left thigh. My makeup is extravagant, my lashes long and distinguishable, which flutter like a butterfly's dainy wings when my eyes close or blink, and my lips are painted a deep wine red. My nails are of the same color, long and coffin-shaped. They are enchanted to bring a very light pleasure to anyone they brush against. They aren't enchanted to give off a sexual desire (as I have no business influencing anyone into love or lust, even in the slightest), but delicious all the same.

Mr. Saxobeat is booming around the room, and Draco is out dancing with some Ravenclaw girl belonging to the seventh year that I've seen in passing but haven't paid much attention to. They seem to have great chemistry, and I find myself wondering if they'll become a thing this year. Pansy is twirling me around to the music, and I'm almost unable to stop laughing. The effects of ketamine thunder through my veins, bringing me a sense of thrilling euphoria and a highly psychedelic effect. My body feels as though it is playing the music itself, like my blood is the music and I am flowing with it like a thrilling storm at sea.

Finally Pansy drags me to the side to sit down next to the table of snacks and a bunch of Gryffindors playing beer pong (of course it's the Gryffindors; they're the house of the school jocks). Darwin's buddies are nearby, but they seem to be making a painstaking effort not to look in my direction at any point. I smirk at their demeanors. They're damn right to be nervous and passive around me.

Pansy's hum of a whisper is tickling against my ear, causing a slight shiver. "I might leave with Blaise Zabini," she confesses huskily. I whip my head to the side to study her, a laugh once against tumbling from my lips.

"Blaise?" I echo. "I can see it. Fire away, girl, shoot that shot. He's a heartthrob, that one is." I drag my fingers through her raven black hair affectionately. "I don't know where I'll end up, so just call me or Snapchat if you want to meet up again later."

Pansy smiles seductively. "If you and Draco end up going to the village again, you don't have to worry about leaving me behind."

I nod. I do a quick overview of my friend to make sure she's lucid enough to consent, should anything happen between her and Blaise (which is precisely Pansy's intentions for tonight), understanding her microscopic signs of heavy intoxication or a heavy high. Once she's passed the test, I slap her on the back. "Have fun," I chirp merrily.

"Noir!" At that moment, the sound of my name being called out cuts through the din. I look around for its source, then manage to follow Pansy's gaze when she seems to spot them first. Her nose wrinkles a bit in distaste and disapproval.