Start 2-16-13 at 212am
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Characters belong to JK Rowling. Nor do I own the two songs mentioned in here. They belong to Lady Antebellum, and to Hinder.
Warning: I am feeling pretty good right now. I just came home from the bar, after helping my cousins' friend to celebrate his 21st birthday. Ohanas is a karaoke bar, and this chick sang these 2 songs mentioned in this story, and they're literally songs that remind me of my ex (a song I played on repeat when he cheated on me and we broke up, and a song he hated that I loved to play all the time) so that's how I came up with this quick little idea…
She was drunk again. It always happened this way. They fell into a forbidden love when they were both only sixteen years old. She was the golden girl of Gryffindor – the impure Mudblood bookworm, and he was the Slytherin prince – the pureblooded blonde who hated everyone beneath him. They didn't know how it first began, they tried to explain to only a few of their friends – Ginny for her, and Blaise for him – but they couldn't find the correct words to describe what they were. She loved him, and he claimed he loved her, but he was the one who fucked it all up. He fucked everyone else… all the girls that he claimed he had never noticed had all been fucked by him before. She ended it with him, breaking it off before her heart could break completely.
It never worked though. No matter how hard she tried to make it work, it never did. She was drunk again. She went out with Ginny. It was some girl's birthday – a girl from Ginny's year, who was once in Hufflepuff. The girl was twenty-one now, and she went out with Ginny to help celebrate. They went to a muggle bar. It was a karaoke bar. Luna was there, along with Colin. There were a bunch of other people that she knew, and she was having a blast. She brought the twenty-one year old a bunch of shots, taking one with her. She didn't know they girl, but she still made sure to have a bunch of fun. She didn't think about him. She kept her phone in her bra all night, making sure not to call anyone. Harry and Ron both texted her, making sure she was alright, but she was good – she didn't think about him.
It had been a year since they ended things for good. No, not really. It had been nearly three years since they ended things between them. Only a few people knew that the two of them even existed – Ginny and Blaise – and they made sure not to tell anyone else. It wasn't as if she wanted people to know she was cheated on by him, and he wasn't about to start boasting that he fucked things up with her. She was drunk again. It started with a beer for her. Then a birthday shot for the birthday girl, and another shot, and another… then another beer… soon there were about ten beers, and three more shots. Her vision was still intact though. She drank so much in her life that she was still sober enough. But then more beers came, and then some sort of fruity drink that Romilda thought she would like. And then Colin brought her a drink. Seamus was there because the birthday girl was his little cousin, and soon Seamus brought her five drinks. Dean brought her a drink too. Then she brought another round of shots.
She was drunk again. Her phone was out of her bra and on the bar. She had a shot in one hand, and a beer in the other. She told Seamus something she's pretty sure she'll regret in the morning. Some random muggle girl is singing that song. It's that bloody song. The song that she used to play on repeat when she first caught him cheating on her.
Another shot of whiskey, can't stop looking at the door It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now
Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind
For me it happens all the time
Said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now
And I don't know how I can do without
I just need you now
She growled when she heard the girl singing it, trying her hardest to tune it out. Neville was talking to her about the time when she got drunk and puked all over Bill's dragon boots, but all she could hear was his blasted laughter in her mind. She was drunk again. Another shot was brought, and her hands were moving towards her phone already. Ginny was already gone – the only one who knew how dangerous it was for her to be left with her phone. Ginny had to take Luna home because the blonde girl was puking up her drinks already. Seamus brought another shot, and now a second song played. This song also brought back memories. This song made her feel the buzz of her alcohol. Oh Merlin, he used to hate this song so much. He used to try to change it every time she would play it.
I wanna lay you down in a bed of roses
For tonight I sleep on a bed of nails
Oh, I wanna be just as close as the Holy Ghost is
And lay you down on bed of roses
She was drunk again. She fell against one of Seamus's muggle friends when she jumped off of the stool. She gathered her phone, card, and money, and she walked right out of the bar. She didn't even tell anybody goodbye. Her house was only a minute away, and she swayed the entire time she walked there. Unlocking her front door, she kept singing the son in her mind – annoyed with the fact that that bloody muggle would sing the two songs that reminded her of him so much. Slamming her front door shut she stumbled her way to the shower. She turned it on as hot as she could and she stripped naked.
Stepping into the shower, she thought back to that night. She had started out sober, but she got drunk again. Allowing her hair to get soaked, she quickly scrubbed herself down, not bothering with washing her hair. Once rinsed off she dried off and quickly dressed in a pair of cottoned knickers and an old t-shirt that belonged to her cousin. Feeling the alcohol taking full effect of her, she fell onto her bed and started to play her music – that same blasted song. Not even a minute went by before she sighed. She was drunk again. She pulled out her cellphone and dialed the number that she convinced herself she forgot.
"Hullo?" his voice was full of sleep, and she didn't blame him. It was two in the morning after all.
"Are you tired?" that was what she always said. He always answered his phone with his sleeping voice, allowing her to know that she woke him up, but she always asked him the same thing.
"Where are you?" it was always the same question, as if expecting her to one say that she finally followed her dreams and left London for good.
"At my house," she replied in a low voice. "I just got home. Are you tired?"
He was silent. He was always silent. He always acted as if he would one day tell her that he was tired and he wanted to sleep, but like always he sighed, "I'm on my way, love."
Love. That was it. He always called her that. He fucked with her heart too many times, and he broke her to the point that she couldn't even hear certain songs without bursting into tears, but then there were moments like this. Moments when one shot turned into ten shots and one beer turned into twenty beers, and a song turned into a mantra. He was there. She could hear the loud cracking sound that followed his apparition. He was there, and she was drunk.
"Where did you go tonight?" he asks her, entering her darkened bedroom.
"It was one of Ginny's friend's birthdays," she replies, already flying her t-shirt off, and slipping out of her knickers. "She turned twenty-one."
He reaches her bed, and he climbs onto it. "I thought you weren't going to call me anymore. I thought you wanted to stop this."
"You didn't have to come."
"I'm always going to come when you call."
"I wasn't going to call, but then I got drunk."
"You can't keep using that as an excuse."
She could feel his breath on her, and she reached out for his long blonde strands, "They played your bloody song."
She pulled him to her, and she gasped when he entered her. They did this so many times. He wasn't the only one she fucked before, but it was as if he was the only one who ever fit her perfectly. Her arms wrapped around him, and he held her tightly to his body, knowing that this couldn't last forever. He pushed in deeply and she whimpered with the feeling of him inside of her. Her nails scratched at his back, wanting an excuse to mark him as hers even if they no longer belonged together. He pushed in deeper, and she opened her mouth. Her hips met his with every hard thrust, and her voice was raising in a high pitched squeal. She knew she sounded ridiculous – she was one of those screamer girls that most blokes grew annoyed by. He was panting above her, and she repeated his name as if this would be the last time she got to speak it aloud. She told herself it would be, but that's what she always said. She always told him she wouldn't call him again, but then she would go out and drink and the night always ended like this.
She was drunk again, and she made sure he knew it. He hit that one spot inside of her, pounding against it repeatedly as if he would win a prize. He would though. He always won a prize at the end of the night. He pressed his lips to hers, wanting a kiss, but she pulled away. She would allow him to fuck her in any way he wanted to, but he wasn't allowed to kiss her. If he kissed her he would know she still loved him, and she didn't want that. She would rather be some slut who used him for a quick shag than allow him to know she still loved him. She fucked some other guys before, taking them home from the bars or the clubs, but she never loved them. She always thought back to him. Him and his stupid blonde hair. She always blamed the alcohol.
He tried to kiss her again, but she pulled away like she always did. Groaning in response he lowered his head to her breasts instead. He bit on one nipple while one of his hands pulled on the other. She arched her back and tightened around him, screaming his name as loudly as she could. He stilled for a second, spilling his seed into her. Continuing to thrust her hip forward, not wanting to lose the sensation of him inside of her just yet, she enjoyed it for as long as she could. After what felt like hours, but was only a minute, he finally pulled out. He climbed off of the bed, dressing himself. She laid there still naked, not bothering to cover herself up. The alcohol was starting to kick in, and she was no longer horny – he took care of that for her – she was now just extremely tired.
He whispered a goodbye to her, apologizing for everything that he'd ever done to her. She nodded her head in a drunken response, curling up with her pillow. Her eyes were already shut, and her mind was starting to blank out, but she waited until she heard the loud cracking sound to let her know he was gone. She was drunk again, and she just did something she knew she would regret once she woke up. He was always her drunken mistake – the one call she made when she wanted a quick fuck.
"I'm not going to drink anymore," she told herself, already knowing she would break that promise. She was always getting drunk now.
Pau 2-16-13 at 255am
It probably would have been longer, and it would have had more smut. I planned on more smut, but I'm trying my hardest to not call my ex right now. I think drunk writing smut isn't a very smart idea… This story was originally written out to keep me from calling him, but now it's only making me want to call him up… I didn't edit this, so sorry for any mistakes. I'll probably regret this in the morning…