arcturuslestrange

[arcturuslestrange]

Artie rubbed at his eyes, hardly able to believe the sight before him. Little bits and pieces of the night before were coming back to him in steady trickles of regret as he glanced around the room; taking in the other dormitory beds, the school books spread haphazardly across the desk. "No. We didn't..?" He trailed off, head snapping back to the girl, a look of horror on his face. "Shit. Oh shit." Jumping up, he wrapped the cover around his waist, hiding the fact that he had clearly misplaced his trousers at some point that previous evening. "I mean, it's not like you're.. I mean, you're beautiful. But we can't.. This can't have happened. Oh crap, how old are you?" 

Annabelle had always forgotten how much homework is involved on a daily basis at Hogwarts. The first week of school had started easy and relaxed with barely any homework assigned but then by the time the end of the first week back had rolled by, professors were assigning homework and essays left and right. Initially, Anna had every intention of staying in that weekend, what with the workload and such but she had always pride herself on being able to balance work and play, unlike her brothers who were either all work and no play or all play and no work. In the end, she decided to drop by the party and have a little fun.

It was well into the afternoon, hours since Anna had gotten up, gotten ready, had breakfast and finished half of her essay already before hearing stirring coming from her bed. She swirled toward the noise. “Morning Stranger, last night was great.”

[arcturuslestrange]

It had been a wild first weekend back at Hogwarts, and even Arcturus had found himself swept up in all the chaos, drinking far more than he really should, feeling elated to finally be back in the safety of the castle, away from the house he was forced to call his home.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like his parents, just that he never knew how to act around them. They didn’t understand him, and although they made an effort, he couldn’t help but notice the forced quality behind all their assurances that they loved him no matter how he turned out. He felt displaced wherever he went, whether it be the halls of Hogwarts or his own home, and this wild partying was just another excuse to take his mind off that. It was hardly his fault that he took it a little too far, but when you have to down half a bottle of firewhisky just to have the courage to talk to someone.. well, you could hardly blame him for taking it over the top. 

He woke with a start the next day, in a dormitory he didn’t recognize, under sheets that smelt disturbingly unfamiliar. Was it roses or vanilla? The important distinction seemed to be that it was not the smell of boys, meaning only one thing. Sitting up, he ran a hand through his ruffled dark hair ( usually so neat, his father would kill him if he knew of the state it was in ), and blinked owlishly at the person in the room with him.

"Oh merlin." He started, stammering a little and making to get out of the bed as quickly as possible. "I’m so sorry, is this your…? How did I get here?"