1: Trouble - Fred Weasley

2. bang bang bang bang

monday morning, lousy morning, what a day to see                                                                                        

in the morning i will hear it on the bbc

don't you want to? don't you want to be the one?

-

Mo was on her fourth outfit by the time Imogen was putting down her quill.

"See, these jeans are the right colour but they're not high waisted enough for the top," Mo said, turning around in the mirror.

"Yeah," Sitting on the end on her bed, Imogen was reading the last paragraph of McGonagall's late essay she'd written and noticed she'd forgotten an 'and'. As she picked up her quill to correct it, Mo groaned.

"I'm going to look like a complete idiot!"

Imogen spotted a misspelling, and scribbled a correction. "Mhm."

"Immy! You're not even paying attention."

"I know, just... one second."

Her eyes gave the paper a final scan and she put it on her bedside table, smiling to herself.

"Done! Now I don't have to wake up early tomorrow."

Mo scowled. "Great. Doesn't help me with the fact that I have nothing to wear."

Imogen looked properly at her outfit and agreed the jeans weren't high-waisted enough for the silvery cami she had on. Opening her wardrobe, she found a pair of dark jeans crumpled at the bottom and cast a quick ironing spell on them.

"Here, try these. They might be better."

Mo accepted the jeans, her stressed scowl only alleviating slightly as she muttered a 'thanks'. Once she'd buttoned them up however, she gave a reluctant smile, twirling in the mirror as she admired herself.

"You're the best," she told Imogen, all her excitement for the evening back. Mo had had enough time to softly curl her hair and do her makeup fresh while Imogen had been in detention, and she was looking even more beautiful than usual.

After getting ready, Imogen couldn't say the same for herself. Not even having enough time to wash her face, she pulled on some clean clothes and brushed her hair, sliding on her silver rings and bracelets over her ink stained hands. She looked presentable at least and anyway, it was Mo's night tonight, not Imogen's.

At a cool twenty minutes past eight, once they had been able to hear R&B bleeding through the floorboards for a while, Imogen and a giddy Mo made their way down to the common room. With all of the first to fifth years shooed away upstairs, the older Slytherin students were scattered amongst the room, chatting leisurely as they draped themselves over chairs. Someone had cast a colour changing enchantment on the fire, so that as it crackled slowly, it illuminated the room with intense colour. Most of the boys were drinking dark liquor from tumblers; the girls pale bubbly from flutes, and Imogen gave an inward shudder at the fact that she'd thought to bring her half full bottle of cheap vodka leftover from summer, glad she'd forgotten to.

At Imogen's side, she saw Mo scan the room for Victor and laid eyes on him the same time she did. Sipping from his generous whiskey, he sat in the middle of the room, accompanied by Adrian Pucey, Ben Reverend, Lucy Grey, and Claudia Wim.

"Why does he have to be sitting with her?" Mo grumbled.

Imogen didn't know which girl she meant, but agreed all the same. Both Lucy and Claudia were forces to be reckoned with. She took a look at Mo's nervous face and clasped her hand.