unhinged ↠ 𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞

Party

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F O U R
M O N T H S
L A T E R

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Kitioma Hadlee

I believe that Gryffindor hosts the most exquisite parties out of all the houses. I may be biased, but none of the other houses could hold a candle to the nights Gryffindor provides.

I grip my boyfriend, Sam's, hand as we walk down the hallway. I had only met Sam two months ago, but it was clear that chemistry was between us. He's quite smart, and I believe that our ideals match with one another. Not a lot of things make sense at Hogwarts, but Sam did. His consistency was refreshing.

Well, at least, that's what I thought.

"You said you wanted to talk to me before the party?" My words are light, tentative. I can't judge his demeanor, so I choose the middle ground of tone.

Sam doesn't speak, pausing in the hallway. He leans forwards, his lips skimming my own, but there is an unspoken hesitancy in his actions. It is not the kind where he is nervous, or hiding-- it feels like a goodbye.

"Sam, what-" I start after he breaks the kiss, but all he does is slip a note into my hand, and he is gone, leaving me to the empty hall.

Dear Kiki,

We have been dating for two months after I write this. I had to say goodbye to you one last time. I had to, or I never would have lived with myself. Kiki, it's not your fault, it's mine. Don't blame yourself for my actions. I don't feel the connection between us anymore. Maybe I was blinded by you, being so famous as the transfer student. But I don't want to keep hurting you anymore. So this is goodbye, Kiki. It was fun while it lasted.

-Sam

I stare at the note, my mouth agape. There is absolutely no way that man I had praised for being exceptionally intelligent had the audacity to break up with me through a letter. We always prided ourselves on communication, and where writing was always a good alternative, this was not the time or place.

The hallway feels too hot as I pace, my jaw tight and my breath heavy. I have never been broken up with, being only seventeen, as Sam had been my only relationship, but even I knew that a letter was not the way to throw down entire months of history. Besides, he had been my first kiss. My first love. He could at least respect the sentiment.

A choked sob escapes my lips and I break down, hurling the now-crushed ball of paper across the hallway. It hits the wall with a faint thud, rolling a few inches from the force of my throw. Tears stream down my face and my labored breaths get heavier and heavier. I feel like I'm going to have a panic attack, like my heart is beating out of my chest.

I can still taste his lips on my own. Why would he kiss me if he was just going to leave, anyways? It made no sense. Did he really ever love me? Did those kisses mean anything?

Did he even care that I'm not ready to say goodbye?

The tears turn hot as my anger boils.

No.

He doesn't care.

He never did.

I stand up, swaying on my feet, wiping the tears away hotly. It may have only lasted two months, only two months, but Sam had left a lasting impact. I grab the note, slipping it into my jacket pocket in a rough motion.

I don't really know why he broke up with me. I probably will never know why. But I do know one thing, and that is the fact that alcohol is distributed, and I am not above underage drinking.

I weave through the scattered crowd in the hallway outside of the portrait. After murmuring a few words, the portrait swings open and I am greeted with the smell of perfume and smuggled alcohol.

How the teachers never broke up these parties, I don't really know, but it didn't really occur to me that I might get into trouble as I grab a cup of firewhiskey.

"Kiki, my girl!" I hear a voice from behind me and turn with a smirk to my best friend, Gabriela, the sixth year who introduced herself at my arrival. "What's up?"

"Oh nothing much," I say hotly, chugging the dark drink. It burns my throat, but I don't cough. I swallow, grinning. "Sam dumped me."

Gabriela's face twists into a confused half-grin. "What now?"

"He decided to leave me with some note, blabbing on about how he didn't feel a connection. It genuinely pissed me off."

Gabriela embraces me, muttering curses to Sam under her breath. "Is there anything I can do? Hex him?"

I shake my head, a small smile tugging on my lips. "Get wasted with me?"

Gabriela smiles slowly. "I think I like this side of you," She hands me another few shots, which I gratefully accept.

Maybe minutes, maybe hours later, I find myself wandering the Hogwarts hallways, giggling and stumbling around. I decided to leave the party after to many drinks to count. Why, I don't really know, but one thought swirls around my head.

I should go to the library.

I shakily bring out my wand as the hallways ahead of me go dark. "L-lumos," I hiccup, and my wand illuminates the hallway. I stumble around for a few minutes, run into a wall, and giggle. "This isn't the library!"

"No, in fact, it is not," A cold voice says. My vision is starting to go blurry, and I can't see who it is. "What are you doing up past curfew?"

I snicker and poke the talking wall with my finger. "What are you doing up past curfew?"

"I'm Head Boy, and if you do not get back to your common room, I will..." The talking wall-boy trails off. "Wait..." He leans forward and I catch a wonderful smell of wood smoke, a rainy forest, and pine.

"You smell good," I hiccup, and a long sigh sounds out from the wall in front of me. "You're a funny wall."

"Christ, I am not dealing with a drunken teenager at this hour," I hear the wall curse, and suddenly, a realization pops into my head.

"Hey! You're not a wall...you're a boy!" I whisper the last word, as if anyone who might hear it would be horrified to know that the wall is, in fact, not a wall.

The boy in front of me sighs once again. "What's your name?"

I shrug. "Who cares about that? Hey, is that you Sam?" I peer into the shadows, thinking to see my ex-boyfriend's face to pop out of nowhere. "You never let me kiss you back, Sammy. You never...you..." I lean forwards, thinking that Sam would like me to kiss him back before we part.

My lips meet someone else's, and they feel warm, soft, and quite surprised, nothing like Sam. However, I have had too many drinks to quite process that this may not, in fact, be Sam. The smell of wood smoke and pine needles surrounds me, and I wrap my hands around Sam's neck, playing my fingers through his hair.

I pull away after I feel Sam not kissing me back. Maybe he doesn't like me anymore? I pout, then lean my head on his chest, thinking that maybe he'll take all the words he wrote in the letter back if I show him affection. "Well Sam, maybe you can give me a kiss tomorrow. Good night."

A grunt of protest and a small "hey!" rings in the hallway as I collapse on the boy's chest, my lips still tingling with the smell of pine.

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