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CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
the heavenly hand of fate
"BETTY! WHY ARE you back so early?" Aisling screeched as she shook Betty awake. Bleerily, Betty blinked and looked around alarmed, only to find her dorm mates trickling in. "You should've . . . you know. Gone a bit longer, maybe snogged, maybe—"
"Ashe! I'm not . . . I don't do that kind of thing!" Betty's face shone bright red as she gaped at her best friend.
Aisling teasingly smiled. "So how was it?"
Betty was quiet as she chewed the inside of her cheek and stared at Aisling. "If I'm being honest . . ."
"Oh no . . ."
"I was really boring."
Aisling cringed and sat down on Betty's bed next to her. "What about it?"
"I don't know, the whole thing . . ."
"He just didn't have that spark?"
Betty looked over at Aisling carefully, who merely smiled. "I guess." Her words were drawn out as she studied her friend's face, trying to figure out what she was hiding. Her narrowed eyes darted around Aisling's face. Her eyes were gentle and there was an expectant nature to the way her eyebrows curved up slightly. Betty pursed her lips and looked down. "Let's get ready for the party. As much as I may hate Kellan, I do miss the inside of the Ravenclaw common room and will take almost any opportunity to go back."
"That's the spirit!" Aisling grinned and hopped off of the bed, shedding her day clothes and searching around her trunk for something to wear. Betty carefully sifted through her trunk a found a red bell sleeve dress that she'd bought from an Oxfam the year before for New Year's. She'd grown a little, making the hem slightly shorter on her than it was before, but the trumpet bell sleeves still fit perfectly. It was lower cut in the front, showing off her chest nicely if she wore the right bra. She lifted the dress out and lay it on her bed and placed her usual white party go go boots on the floor below it. As she walked to the bathroom, she tipped her bottle of makeup remover onto a cotton pad and started to dab the makeup off of her face, wanting to start afresh. As she stood in front of the mirror, she brushed her hair, but immediately regretted it as most of the remaining curl from the morning smoothed out. A slight curl remained on the ends of her hair, creating a more tousled feel that hugged her face. She roughly applied her makeup, liking the disheveled look of her hair. Pressing red across her lips and swiping mascara on her eye lashes, she sighed as she finished. Girls came and went—adding to their makeup from the day—as they all giggled together as compliments bubbled around like the hearts above Amortentia. Their silky words popped and kissed the rosy cheeks of the girls as they flitted around their dorm.
