As anyone could attest, the sun rises in the morning. On this particular morning, the sun shined in on a rag-tag band of misfits, lying in various states of slumber and hygiene. There was not a peep to be heard, save for the mouse wiggling its way through the remains of the feast that had gone on the night before. The word “feast” really belongs in quotations, as it occurred late in the night and hardly consisted of anything a normal person might consider food. It looked almost as if the mouse and a few of his mates had made the feast themselves.

Several hours later, the sun quite comfortable in its spot amongst the clouds, one Frederick Dodger yawned and without opening his eyes, slid out of his bed. The ground was particularly squishy today, and particularly loud -- it yelped “hey!” and Freddie looked down to see an irritated man with frizzy blonde hair and a Hawaiian shirt. “Sorry mate,” Fred apologized, turning to crawl off his bed the other way. That way consisted of an obstruction as well, although this one was far less hairy and was only squishy in the right places.

   The girl on Freddie’s bed had light, almost white hair and dark brown roots. Glitter was dusted across her shoulders and cheeks and her lipstick was smeared in a way that implied what Freddie was already remembering rather fondly.

   Roger, a friend who had never once been to Hawaii but owned a disconcerting amount of shirts in their style, would have to tolerate a foot to the stomach so Freddie could leave the glittery lady to her slumber. Freddie leapt from the bed quickly and Roger let out an outrageous squeal and glared in Freddie’s direction, his face displaying obvious outrage. Before Roger had the chance to voice his complaints, Freddie put a finger to his lips and pointed to the bed. Roger’s face became quite serious and he glanced over discreetly, just as the young woman was rolling over so her backside faced Roger and Freddie. When he turned back to face Fred, Roger shared an over-dramatic look and gave a thumbs up. He then proceeded to roll over and continue snoozing.

   Rolling his eyes and stretching, Freddie made his way to the bathroom. He had on only boxers, but privacy was a concept never really introduced into his life. He made his way into the bathroom, where his brother was sleeping in the bathtub. He still had his shoes on - shameful. To save the family name, Freddie de-booted his younger sibling and pulled the curtain round. Once he used the facilities he wandered down the hallway, peeking to see who else was left after the festivities from the night before.

   Nobody else was in the bedrooms upstairs which made Freddie exceptionally curious as to why Roger had decided to crash in Freddie’s room. Freddie made his way downstairs, where there were a few people milling about in the aisles of bookshelves. They looked rather alarmed by Freddie’s appearance, which reminded him that he was still wearing boxers. Clearly they weren’t regulars, but it probably was a good time to put on a shirt. The glitter hadn’t stayed only on his female companion, it seemed.

   He grabbed a sweater from a hook on the wall and put it on. Although he wasn’t entirely sure it was his, Freddie didn’t know of anyone else who would wear such an ugly jumper that was also rather moth-bitten. Now that he looked more like an upstanding citizen, he could make his way into the kitchen. Lu was already there with an apron on, whipping up eggs and tea. “Ah, bless you woman,” Freddie said, holding her shoulders and kissing the side of her head. The frizzy-haired cook smiled at her boss and made no comment about his outfit. A few people stared from the seats they were in, but Fred walked around with such confidence that they didn’t question him. Freddie poured two cups of tea and grabbed a piece of toast, put it in his mouth and let it hang there, then winked at Lu on his way out. He also winked at the patrons who were ogling him -- they looked like they needed a good shock.

   Freddie returned to his bedroom just as glitter lady was beginning to stir. He quickly kicked Roger, who again looked affronted. Ignoring this, Freddie nudged his head in the direction of the door and Roger nodded in understanding. He got up and reached for one of the cups in Freddie's hands, to which Freddie responded with a darkly incredulous look. Even with a slice of toast hanging from his mouth, Roger went stumbling quickly for the door as Freddie walked towards the bed with the teas. He put one down on his bedside and pulled the toast from his mouth, holding the other out for the girl. She sat up, completely nude but apparently uncaring of this fact. After stretching and mussing her hair, she grabbed the tea and sipped it up gratefully.

   “Thanks babe,” she said, her voice husky from many cigarettes (and probably a lot of yelling, singing, and more). She looked at Freddie mischievously and he laughed and ran his fingers through his messy mop of brown hair.  "My name's Hadley," she added with a smirk. Freddie looked at her with a display of mock offense.

“I hadn’t forgotten,” he defended himself. “Hadley, Queen of Pixies.” Freddie smirked right back at her and felt a swell of pride as she laughed at his joke. She’d been the instigator of much of the mayhem that had ensued the previous night, including many shots of tequila and the introduction of a way of playing Exploding Snap that had never been seen before by any of the likes of the Artful Dodger.

As she slid out of bed, Freddie felt a strong desire to pull her right back in, ravish her despite the growing hangover. He watched as she crossed the room, keeping his mouth shut and reveling in what he knew would be the last few moments of her nudity.

She put her dress back on as easily as it had come off. Fluffing her hair again, she turned back at him and half-lidded her eyes. The devilish smirk on her face nearly sent chills down Freddie's spine, certainly causing tingling sensations in a few specific spots. He watched her as she looked in the mirror and used her fingers to smear her makeup into place. She yawned while Freddie attempted to figure out  why they'd ever gotten out of bed. Returning from a drunken romp in the land of fornication was never easy, and Freddie regretted its end. Somehow, it was a lot easier to talk to Hadley when her clothes had been off.

Luckily Hadley had it in her to speak first. “Something smells amazing.” Freddie found himself once again thanking the deities for Lu, the greatest thing to happen to the Artful Dodger since Alfie had finally catapulted the meanest of the gnomes from the garden.

“Breakfast’s in the kitchen,” Freddie explained. She gave a nod and headed towards the stairs. Just as she began to walk down the steps, Alfie emerged from the bathroom. At first he had looked hellishly confused, but one glimpse of Hadley shot his eyebrows upwards. Alfie look toward his brother with a questioning look on his face, and Freddie sipped his tea elusively but was unable to hide his smugness from his brother.

Alfie got the look of a housewife who had discovered that her rival across the street had gotten knocked up by the milkman mixed with a twinge of lottery winner. Rolling his eyes and shaking his head dramatically, Freddie began to shuffle down the hall behind Hadley, who was only a few steps down. Alfie began to follow Freddie, doing a little jig as he poked his brother repeatedly. Freddie flapped his arms at his brother, shooing him away before Hadley had the chance to see the foolishness. (Deep down he knew he would have done the same thing if the situation were reversed.)

There was a a pop, the sound of someone Apparating. It wasn’t an unusual noise to hear, but when Freddie got downstairs he realized that Hadley was missing from the scene.

“Did you boff a ghost?” his brother Alfie asked casually as he sipped his tea. Freddie glared at him, rather disheartened on the inside. He understood Hadley’s decision to escape from this scene. Freddie observed Roger eating cereal, some of the milk dripping from his beard. Now sober, this  would be a lot more awkward. What Freddie didn’t understand, though, was her choice to leave sans goodbye. His past included many one-night stands and flings, but no one had simply disappeared without saying goodbye. It was irksome, threw off Freddie’s mojo completely.

Freddie continued to sip his tea wordlessly. Hadley hadn’t just been sexy…. he’d been intrigued by her. She was reckless and carefree, a free spirit that looked bored by everyday life. He’d been attracted to her sarcasm, that biting wit reeling him in by matching him in banter, even at his most obscure.

Alfie was now walking around the kitchen, talking about Hadley. “I mean, what chick shags and splits? That’s a dude thing right? Maybe she just wanted a bit of rumby-pumby. Looks like you lucked out on this one, brother. Let’s just hope she hasn’t scrumped anything.”  Normally Freddie wouldn’t care; he was used to his brother and friends making fun of him. They all teased each other, mocking each other in everything from hairstyle to drink choice.

Without responding to Alfie’s comment, Freddie got up angrily and marched off-scene. He went back up to his room with his tea and locked the door.