The wizarding wireless was blaring out something Ambrose didn't recognise, but he didn't care, it still had a bit of rhythm and he wasn't ready for the weekend to be over. Today was his 16th birthday -  one more year before he came of age in the wizarding world. He'd spent all of it avoiding doing any homework, and spending much of it with Cyhirae Trishna, his girlfriend from Ravenclaw. But even girlfriends had to study for tests in the morning as curfew loomed. Ambrose had just taken his celebrations back to the Gryffindor house common room.

Shimmying his feet across the common room rug before the fire, arms in the air, Ambrose had an enormous grin on his face. He'd eaten far too much sugar, crisps and whatever else he could purloin for the occasion (they'd been stocking up with the elves for this purpose) As the song came to an end, he spun on the spot and collapsed into a nearby space on the sofa amongst his housemates and gave a contented sigh.

"Can you turn it down a bit, trying to do Storm's essay here..." A fourth year complained but Ambrose waggled a hand in their direction.
"I refuse to acknowledge Monday. It's still my birthday until midnight. Everyone in this common room should be celebrating."

It was definitely the fizzy drink he'd consumed earlier that was making him so outgoing and blaze about the whole issue. As a prefect this year, he'd taken it more to heart and had tried to think before acting. It was definitely not anything the older Gryffindors had let him try.

"I love you guys." He exclaimed with a big soppy grin on his face. Ambrose extended his arms either side to those sat on the sofa with him and tried to hug them all to him.

Indi did not discriminate friendships based on silly things like gender or age or house.  The only way she really picked friends was based on open-mindedness and fun.  So, Ambrose fit the bill and he was pretty keen for a fifth year, so when it was his birthday Indi was not going to turn down the opportunity to celebrate.

Besides, it was Sunday and that meant the next day was Monday and that meant Indi would dream about casting Avada Kedavra on herself before the night was over.  She’d put that off as long as possible though, considering birthday celebrations needed to be had.  She’d even wrote her dad to send something to the school for the ocassion.  He managed to snack a bunch of pastries from work – just like the ones he always kept around the flat – and sent them. 

They sat amongst the rest of the hoarded food from elves.  And while she was controlling the music, Indica was not in a get up and dance mood.  She was mellow, her eyes half lidded and pastry in hand.  Probably the effect of what she’d decided to share with the party.  She’d lost track of it (figured it was gone), but hoped whoever wanted a bit got to it.  Indi munched happily as she may have lifted an obscene finger toward the whiner doing homework, but made no words.  Pepper had that covered. 

She just laughed, sputtering out a little bit of pastry dribbled onto her lip as he launched himself onto the couch and grabbed her.  “Oi!” she yelled through full cheeks, still grinning, and rushed to chew the rest of her food before she spoke again.  Swallowing hard, she threw her free hand (the other was extended upward to save the pastry), “Love ya too, Pepper,” she laughed.  “At least a little,” she leaned over and placed a very loud, unnecessarily wet kiss to his cheek (it did not even cross her mind to care) and leaned back into her seat on the couch. 

“Any last birthday wishes we can fill for ya?”

Mwah! Ambrose blushed despite himself at Indi kissing his cheek. She was proper pretty, and he was officially at the awkward age of liking a lot of girls and trying to keep his eyes on Cyhirae. It might be his imagination, but it seemed like the girls in his year had suddenly become a lot prettier since summer.

"Any last birthday wishes we can fill for ya?" Indi asked, saving Ambrose from too much further thought on that topic.

"Well, there's…" Ambrose raised one hand and extracted both arms from behind his housemates to count them off. "Causing Storm, Selwyn and Charms Donovan to come down with flu so they can't teach for a week. And Gryffindor to win both the house cup and the Quidditch cup this year." He pouted a moment in thought, screwing his face up on purpose.

"You meant simpler ones though, right? I'm good, short of my own hippogriff. That would be wicked."

"Indi, girl, you're gonna get the boy in trouble with little Trishna." Ariadne teased, observing Ambrose throwing his arms around the people on the sofa and Indi applying her lips noisily to the fifth year's face.

She jammed a fizzing whizbee into her mouth and raised her eyebrows as it lifted her off the floor a couple of inches. These never got old when your bum was a bit numb from sitting on the common room rug.

"How many do you think you got to eat until you don't come down again?" She asked, examining the packet. "Wouldn't need a hippogriff then, Pepper."

Indica rolled her eyes as Ariadne said she was going to get Pepper in trouble.  “Puh-lease!” she laughed, “I pose no threats to anyone…” she winked toward her fellow seventh year and dorm mate.  It was partially… not true.  Indi didn’t mean to get people in trouble.  It just happened sometimes. Apparently not everyone shared her ideas about commitment (or a lack thereof). 

With an exaggerated and bratty sigh, Indi sunk back and pointedly bit on her pastry again, keeping herself quiet for the moment.  She snorted again when Ambrose listed his wishes and she shook her head.  As much as she would love to make those things happen (and further make herself a hero at Hogwarts who would go down in history), she doubted she could maek that happen. 

Shaking her head, she finally swallowed and grinned.  “I think we can kiss the house cup g’bye this year,” she winked Ariadne.  It wasn’t really outside of the circle who had been involved in the Skinny Dipping night yet… so she was fairly certain Pepper didn’t know about the bucket list, so it was a little joke… for them.  Besides, he could probably guess Indi was going to lose tons of points anyway.  “And I can’t afford a hippogriff!” she stuck her tongue out and laughed.

“But if it’s flying you want to do – broom closets all over the bloody school,” she pointed out, “or other ways…”   She wasn’t going to get specific, little Pepper was a prefect now and even if he was cool, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to do his job.  “Besides, you’re telling me you aren’t positively levitating now that you’re back to making puppy eyes at Trishna?” she grinned, ribbing him in the side with her elbow. 

"Wha's'it? Who flying?" Lulah asked, an excited lilt to her voice as she raised her head up a little, hair spilling out of her ponytail and unto the floor. She squinted attempting to make sense of the upside-down faces sitting on the sofa. The armchair she was in creaked as she tried to right herself around, using her butt to push the rest of her body sideways, legs landing on the armrest with a thump as her red and white t-shirt rolled up, exposing her midriff and a pair of masculine shorts.

Her brows were high on her forehead and the corner of her lips up a ways, as if anticipating the possibility of fun in any way or form, but most preferably if it came in the shape of brooms. The red and white t-shirt was quickly pulled down with a grimace, having to arch her body away from the cushion of the armchair in order to do so. The front said Standard Chartered across the chest, the Liverpool emblem on the left and on the back in big white letters said Gerrard and an even bigger 8 underneath. As she swung her legs to the front, having finally righted herself in her seat, Lulah patted at her ponytail, wild stray hairs having escaped from underneath the scrunchie. The newspaper in her hand was abandoned on the floor, The Guardian's sport section surrounded by blue scribbles, circled areas, doodles and many impolite words. The pen was tucked under her ear with blue tinted fingers.

"And how come no one's doing anything about Trollovan? Uh, the other bloody Donovan?" she asked out of nowhere, eyebrows scrunched at the middle, eyes intent on Gamp and Kemp, as if it was somehow their duty, the older students', to make sure that new horrifying professors were met with the welcoming committee they deserved. Nothing but a pretty face - according to everyone else, honestly Lulah didn't see what all the fuss was about, he looked like someone that slept under bridges and ate cute little bunnies for breakfast, raw - and a shite-personality. "And happy birthday" she added as a quick after-thought, looking at Pepper her nose twitching nervously, while her eyebrows still held close together at the middle.

Nicholas was sitting in an armchair across from the fire, one leg tucked underneath him, enjoying the music and a bottle of spiked butterbeer.  It never took much for the Gryffindor common room to become loud and boisterous. He'd long since given up fighting it, and generally took part in whatever the occasion was, even when it was celebrating a younger prefect's birthday.  A younf prefect, who given the proximity of Indi, may have had more than just sugar.  But it was hard to tell and there were a number of magical substances, illicit and not, that could put anyone into a part mood.

"Indi, what did you give him?"  Nicholas said with a laugh, as Ambrose listed off, entirely impossible gift ideas.

"I wouldn't try that with those,"  He said to Ariadne, "Don't you remember second year when I tried that.  I was sick for a day, and barely floated after I finished the bag."  He'd never had them before, and had been gullible enough to believe a seventh year who'd told him it would work.  Closest thing to flying, he'd said.  But he just ended up vomiting weightless vomit.

"Wait, whats wrong with Donovan?  You could bounce a quarter off...well just about any part of him."  He said laughing and summoning a bag of crisps from a pile of food.  "I mean he's strict, but I'm going to get those points.  And keep my hand."  He was referring to the points offered for touching either Donovan's bum.  He figured it would be easier with the charms professor, since he was at least taking the subject.

Virgil didn't consider himself a competitive person by any means. However... considering that there were particular allures to the obtainment of these points, and not to mention the good company of Gracie Slant, he was amenable to slipping into the Gryffindor common room after quietly leaving their own. Easier said than done but that was a prefect perk one might claim to be worth those truly abominable night rounds.

As the portrait swung open to reveal the fair haired Slytherin and his infinitely more attractive accomplice, Virgil allowed for a lazy smile to slip through his ordinarily indifferent expression.

Well. It looked to be true - all the makings of a party, and not a single brilliant soul to be found. Excepting Indi. He caught her eye as they stepped through into the common room and made all the appearances of perfectly belonging there without flourish. Pepper might be a prefect but how adroit a prefect remained to be seen. Virgil suspected that his reaction as such would be inverse to future social ranking.

"Would you like to get right into it," he had his arm around Gracie's waist (partly intentional, partly as a way of clinging to the security blanket of her brazen behaviour). "Or should we partake in the festivities first? We can't seem to be rude."

Gatecrashing. A hard-won skill for some, but for others – for Gracie – it came quite naturally.

As Virgil snaked an arm around her waist, Gracie ducked her head, hiding a laugh behind a ripple of hair before looking up, beaming. She looped her own arm around him, letting her hand hang off his hip. “ ‘Into it,’ ” she repeated, eyes dancing with mirth. “How sexy.”

But she was already glancing away, her free hand curled to her chest as she took in the food, the music—the rich, warm hues of Gryffindor marked by velvet red armchairs and matching wallpaper. Combined with the wireless’ steady beat and the faint whiff of weed, it all made for a very relaxed atmosphere the Slytherin couldn’t help but approve of. By all appearances the party seemed well under way.

And with Indi right there in the midst of it all, insinuating themselves further would only be a matter of simply walking over. Which, well. That settled it, then.

Gracie looked back to Virgil, that hand on his waist giving one last squeeze before drawing away, snagging on his hand. “Let’s go say hi,” she suggested, cocking her head towards the gathering of Gryffindors. A smirk tugged at her lips, daring and bright.

She was already leading the way.

Though neither were in uniform, given that it was a Sunday, a few double-takes were only to be expected. But with the common room as cozy as it was (almost stiflingly so), the pair reached the couches soon enough. Gracie slinked over to the nearest one, fingers still threaded with Virgil’s.


“Wait, what’s wrong with Donovan? You could bounce a quarter off… well just about any part of him. I mean he’s strict, but I’m going to get those points. And keep my hand.”


Gracie glanced at Virgil. It was all she could do not to laugh.

“In a bag, maybe,” she drawled, quirking the Gryffindor a grin as they approached. She made her way over to Indi, smile bright with amusement. “He’d probably hex you if you even looked at him wrong. Hullo, boos. I heard it was someone’s birthday?” She leaned in, pressing a kiss to Indi’s cheek.

Indi winked at Ariadne as she said they could kiss the house cup goodbye. Ambrose looked confused for a moment and then figured he'd never understand seventh years, perhaps even when he was one.

"How many do you think you got to eat until you don't come down again? Wouldn't need a hippogriff then, Pepper." Ariadne was examining the packet of fizzing whizbees. They were a banned sweet at home for Ambrose and his younger brother - he was accident prone enough without adding minor levitation into the mix.

"I wouldn't try that with those, don't you remember second year when I tried that.  I was sick for a day, and barely floated after I finished the bag." Bevans told Ariadne and she clicked her fingers on remembering, and muttered something to him about vomit that Ambrose didn't catch. 

"… besides, you're telling me you aren't positively levitating now that you're back to making puppy eyes at Trishna?"
"Yeaaah, yeah." Ambrose replied, but blushed a bit at Indi's teasing about how he looked at Cyhirae.

"Wha's'it? Who flying?" Lulah suddenly interjected from an armchair and wriggled round to look the right way in her Liverpool shirt.

"And how come no one's doing anything about Trollovan? Uh, the other bloody Donovan?"
"The revolving staff room door will before we might," Ariadne remarked, raising an eyebrow and sinking back to the floor, looking dejected.
"I'd rather we did it to Storm first, like." Ambrose muttered.

"And happy birthday"
"Thanks. Er, help yourself." He gestured to the food around them, watching a bag of crisps float out as Nicholas extended his wand.

"Wait, whats wrong with Donovan?  You could bounce a quarter off...well just about any part of him. I mean he's strict, but I'm going to get those points.  And keep my hand."

Nobody quite had time to reply as the portrait swung open and everyone who glanced in its direction took a second glance as Virgil Carstairs was definitely not a Gryffindor, and neither was Gracie Slant.

"What the-?" Ambrose managed, alarmed.

"In a bag, maybe," Slant replied to Bevans, grinning mischieviously, and leaned over to Indi beside Ambrose.
"He’d probably hex you if you even looked at him wrong. Hullo, boos. I heard it was someone’s birthday?"

"Mine." Ambrose chipped in, perplexed, "Though I hadn't realised you were interested in coming." What with us being fine friends and all he added silently, but swallowed the words down. Slant and Carstairs were two of the in crowd and he didn't want to make his fifth and final year at Hogwarts a misery by making himself more of a target.