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────────────── 'TRY ME' ──────────────
tw: attempted drugging, attempted assault
♡
Hours later at midnight, the party remained as alive as ever—despite the dwindling numbers of students as the fire whiskey started to catch up to them. Mina watched in amusement as a tipsy Charlie threw a handful of lollies in his mouth and, no longer than a second later, floated a few feet above the crowd with steam coming out of his ears.
As those around her erupted in laughter, she felt a bit out of place as seemingly the only sober person left in the room. Although, it was amusing to watch as even the most reserved people start to yell and dance around on the chairs like little kids, all from various houses. Mina even spotted Draco Malfoy getting into the loud muggle songs blasting from the floating speaker, using his wand as a microphone.
"I'm gonna take a breather," she said to Charlie once he was back on the ground, but he didn't hear her as he started debating a drunk Ravenclaw on why trolls could be taught ballet if they tried hard enough, actually. He slurred a bit on his words, his cheeks flushed pink, too caught up to notice her slip away.
Squeezing through the crowd, Mina felt suffocated by the amount of glittery people brushing against her shoulders and sloshing their drinks. The air was hot and thick with sweaty body heat and a bit of smoke from god-knows what. It felt like years of holding her breath until she finally reached the outskirts of the crowd, finding refuge by the back wall beside the drink table.
Mina grabbed a cup and eyed the punch bowl filled with a pretty, alluring pink liquid. She had never really had alcohol before—aside from a small sip from her dad's glass one Christmas—but maybe just one drink wouldn't hurt. There was an array of different shaped glass bottles strewn across the stained tablecloth, most almost empty. But as she reached for the ladle on the side of the punch, she remembered Harry's warning those days ago: never drink the punch at a Gryffindor party.
"Hey, you showed up!" speaking of the devil, Mina turned to face a tipsy Harry. His glasses askew on the tip of his nose, the glitter on his face was even better up close—like he was some sort of art piece under the colourful lights. "Everything okay?" he asked, taking a sip from his cup.
"Uh, yeah," Her face heated up as she caught herself staring. Surprisingly, Heather was nowhere to be seen. "The glitter suits you," she motioned to his face, but her voice was drowned out by the music—and Draco's attempts at high notes.
"Eh?" Harry leaned in closer, fixing his glasses. Her lips almost brushed his ear as she repeated herself—trying to focus on her words and not the way she caught a whiff of his cologne.
