attached | james potter

twenty-four: going home

Chapter Twenty-Four

The next morning, Brooklyn woke up to the sunlight literally blinding her eyes. Groaning, she sat up and immediately winced as a sharp pain shot through her head. Her throat felt dry and her head was throbbing uncontrollably. For a moment, she simply sat there and tried to orient herself in her jumbled thoughts. Why was her head hurting so much?

She tried to recall the previous night's events but her mind was frustratingly blank. Did she pass out? The last thing she distinctly remembered was dancing with the Prewetts. Everything was a haze after that.

Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, she stood up, regretting it almost instantly when black spots danced in her vision and her head throbbed even harder. She pressed one hand onto the wall for support as she made her way to the bathroom, stumbling slightly.

The dorm was empty except for her, which wasn't surprising, seeing as it was pretty late. The girls were probably already on the train headed back home, they'd all taken the first train in the morning, whereas Brooklyn would be taking the later one in the evening— with the marauders. She was starting to have second thoughts about James' plan, but there was no backing out now.

Speaking of James, what the hell happened last night? The last she remembered seeing him was while she was sober, right before he'd left to talk to McGonagall. Then, she'd went and gotten herself completely hammered.

It was official, she was the worst date ever.

Merlin, she hoped she hadn't done anything too extreme. She tended to be quite... blatant while she was drunk. Well, whatever it was, she'd deal with the consequences later. Right now, she had to go puke her guts out in the bathroom.

;;;

"Morning, Brooklyn."

Brooklyn winced, pressing her fingers to her forehead as someone sat down beside her at the table. Even the slightest sudden noise was enough to trigger a migraine. "Don't talk to me," she mumbled without turning to look at whoever it was as she took another gulp of hangover potion from the flask in front of her (not that it helped much anyways.)

Remus regarded her with an amused expression on his scarred face. "I take it you had fun last night."

She groaned, leaning forward to rest her head in her hands miserably. "I'm never drinking again. My head hurts like hell, and this stupid potion isn't helping. I feel like burying myself ten feet underground."

"Don't worry, I don't think you did anything too embarrassing," he assured, trying to suppress a smile. "Not as bad as last time."

"Don't remind me," she moaned, recalling what had happened the last time she'd gotten drunk. She'd ended up falling down the stairs and breaking her left leg, resulting in three days spent at the hospital wing. Remus chuckled, shaking his head as he reminisced. "It was actually quite funny."

"It's nice to see that my pain amuses you."

The sandy-haired boy smirked. "Luckily for you, James was there to take you to the hospital wing. If I recall correctly, he fussed over you for the entire week."

She rolled her eyes playfully, hoping he wouldn't notice the scarlet tinge mottling across her cheeks. "I remember. He wouldn't stop pestering me, he offered several times to carry me around for the next month. I think I threatened to push him off the Ravenclaw tower."