Addicted to the Shindig [M] [CHECKED]

Posted: Wed Mar 04, 2009 9:52 pm

Title: Addicted to the Shindig
Author: Everybody's favourite admin, meeeee.
Rating: M just in case. Will definitely be not suitable for children under 13. Probably some self-harm, definitely lots of innuendos, haven't decided about actual sex yet though.
Fandom: HP.
Type: Chaptered/Incomplete.

Y'all ready for this?

--

Prologue:

They were five when they first kissed each other on the lips. His parents had hosted an elaborate dinner party at their manor, and they were the only two children in attendance (being wintertime, all the other underage socialites were at school). Having spent the evening gallivanting around underneath tables, it was time for her family to go home. They entered the front hall holding hands, smiling as only children can, while her parents donned winter cloaks and thanked his parents for having them over.

She was standing in front of her father, chin up, allowing him to clasp her fur-lined cloak at her neck when his father told the golden-haired boy to say goodbye. Grinning, he had sauntered back over to her and taken hold of her hand once again, tugging so that she turned to look at him, silvery ermine cloak now securely in place upon her shoulders. He had puckered his lips and leaned in, allowing her to cover the rest of the distance and meet his mouth with her own. Then, giggling, they had both drawn back, relinquishing their holds on each other's hands and backing away.

Cheeks now tinged with pink, the dark-skinned girl took her mother's hand and allowed herself to be led out the door. At the last moment, she turned back and waved, a shy smile crossing her delicate features. He waved back, standing a little behind his father, and then the door closed and she was gone.

Chuckling, the white boy's mother petted his hair. “I take it you liked her, then,” she murmured to her son.

He grinned like the Cheshire cat, and crossed to the stairs leading to his bedroom. He was three stairs up before he deigned to answer. “When we grow up,” he informed her, looking smug, “we’re getting married.”

Posted: Fri Mar 06, 2009 12:30 am

Chapter 1:

“Hey, Hermione.”

“Yes, Harry.” The caramel-haired girl didn’t look up from her book, A Thousand and One Ways to See Rome, but she was really listening to her friend. Really...

Harry nodded in the direction of a bench across the square, upon which a girl was seated, sucking oh-so-relaxedly on a cigarette. “Do I know her from somewhere?”

Hermione glanced up just long enough to take in the pretty girl and her bench. “Yes, Harry, you do,” she muttered, returning to Way #243: Have sex on, in, or under anything and everything. “She's in our year at school.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right,” the teen spoke absently, too busy eying the way she was practically filming a porno with her cancer stick. “What house is she in, again?”

Hermione looked up again, this time at her friend, and smirked. “You'd know, Harry James Potter, if you stopped drooling for a moment and took a look at who's got his head in her lap.”

Jerking, the accused boy took a moment to glare at his best friend before looking back towards the bench. “Oh, for fuck's sake,” he growled upon seeing the white blond head stationed more than a little suggestively upon her upper thighs. His friend snorted, an amused smile sitting on her lips, but didn't look up from her book, especially when Harry turned angrily to her. “And what the bloody Hell d'you think you're laughing at?”

Shutting her book, Hermione stood and patted her friend on the cheek. “Only you, my dear.” Then, taking his hand and ignoring his disgruntled grumble, she dragged him to his feet. “Come on, then, we've got to get to the museum before it closes for the evening. Mrs Weasley will be offended if we're not back for supper.” She pulled him in the direction away from their classmates, and paused thoughtfully. “Not to mention Ron might have your head.”

Posted: Mon Mar 23, 2009 10:49 pm

Chapter 2:

“Now, Draco, that's not very nice,” the girl murmured, gently swiping a strand of silky hair out of her best friend's face. “They're probably here for that Muggle Studies project, just like Terry Boot and that other boy we saw earlier.”

“I don't care,” the boy ground out, his body language somehow entirely separate from his voice. To anyone out of earshot (like the Golden Boy and his filthy friend, across the plaza), he seemed calm, perhaps happy or, more likely, just supremely lazy. “He's a big fucking prick and I don't want him to be here while I am.”

Taking her smoke from between her lips, she flicked the ash off the end. “Well then, go buy us train tickets to somewhere else,” she snapped, fed up with Draco's whining. “Paris, or something.”

“With my luck, they'll be going there next,” the white teen grumped.

“For shit's sake, Draco,” Adrienne growled, stubbing out her fag on the green metal arm of the bench as the two Gryffindors walked away. “They only spend one day in each city. They'll be gone by morning.” She tapped her lip, thinking. “Or probably this evening. They're missing Ronald.” The girl’s grandfather, an African witch doctor, was the reason her skin was the colour of coffee with milk. She pinched her friend's cheek. She did not hold the same grudge against the Golden Trio as he, and was actually fairly good friends with Granger. This, of course, was the cause of much arguing between the pair, who were virtually attached by the hip even when angry with each other.

Muttering angrily to himself, the boy hoisted himself out of Adie's lap and stood. “Let's go get something to eat,” he suggested, refusing to quite meet her eyes but holding his hand out to her nonetheless. She took it and stood too, allowing him to lead her off in the direction of the apartment they were sharing. They walked in silence for a few minutes. “D'you think your granddad will make me a voodoo doll of him?”

Resisting the urge to slap her friend, the semi-black girl yanked her hand from his and crossed her arms over her chest. “Fuck you, Draco.”

Knowing he'd hit upon the sorest spot she had, and only because he was too busy being irritated at Scarhead, Draco sighed inwardly and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He spent the rest of the walk home trying to decide how best to beg her forgiveness, because in the case of Adrienne Sonoro, she could be severely damaging when angry, and he had no desire to incur that wrath; he had seen it too many times aimed at others. And, he knew, she kept voodoo dolls of her own.

Posted: Mon Mar 30, 2009 7:42 pm

Chapter 3:

Adie yawned and flopped down onto her bed, ignoring the clanging sounds of Draco, who she'd left to his own devices in the kitchen. Idly, she wondered what she could do to him for that jab about voodoo. Using a voodoo doll on him (she had her Mini-Draco in the top drawer of her desk) would be perfect irony. Besides, the Malfoys could do very little to her family; the Sonoros being a far more influential (and wealthy) pure-blooded family, she had virtual free reign over the entire wizarding world, compared to Draco, who could barely keep the British Minister of Magic under his thumb.

Besides, voodoo was one of the uncontrollable, untraceable magics. She could kill her best friend and bring him back to life, and not only would she be unpersecutable, but completely undetectable to anyone trying to persecute. Not that she would kill Draco. Severely wound, perhaps, and mend, but never kill (not that she wasn’t capable of it). Death seemed rather a harsh punishment for not thinking about his words before speaking them. Perhaps she would simply dangle him off the balcony by his feet for a while.

Rising, she went to her desk and opened the top right drawer, where four little dolls lay, very innocent. She picked the blond one up by its left ankle, brought it up to eye level, and whispered a spell to activate. She gave a rather sadistic grin as she heard more clanging and a rather girlish shriek from the direction of the kitchen. The doll began flailing its arms and free leg, a miniature adaptation of her tormented best friend.

Still smirking evilly, she walked out of her room and down the hall to the cooking room, where Draco was suspended in midair, yelling like it was the end of the world.

The dark-haired girl spun the doll, causing the very white boy to rotate, still upside-down, to look at her. Taking in her wicked smile and the little version of himself, he began kicking more violently, which just caused her to cackle. “You bitch!”

A strange glint lit her aquamarine eyes, and she took one step closer to her friend. “Oh, no Draco, you haven't seen anything yet,” she murmured, the tone of her voice sending shivers up (or down, in this case) his spine.

Turning and exiting the kitchen, Adie twitched her long fingers, causing the blond boy to float along behind her as she crossed through the living room and threw open the French doors onto the balcony. Moments later, he was screaming again as she dangled him over the busy street below.

“You'll kill me!” he yelled, clawing at the air, “what if you drop me?! I'll die! Then what will happen? My parents will have your head!”

She snorted and leaned against the barrier. “No, they won't,” she said, not loudly, but Draco would swear later that the cars below had quieted specifically to listen to her. “My family wouldn't let that happen. Besides, if you fall...” she dropped the doll and caught it in the other hand, and the life-sized version jerked a few feet, shrieking once more. “I'll catch you.”

He had begun to hyperventilate by that time, staring at his best friend with desperate, frightened eyes. “Bring me back,” he pleaded, not screaming anymore, though his heart was still beating a million times a minute. “I'm sorry, Adie. Fuck, let me back!” His last words rose to a squeak, his breath coming in sharp, short gasps.

She pulled him back, finally, and placed the doll upon the patio table, causing Draco to land on the ground. She muttered the anti-activation spell, and the boy got shakily to his feet. Gasping, he crossed to his friend and let her gather him up into her arms. He whispered apologies, almost to himself.

Posted: Tue Apr 07, 2009 12:01 am

Chapter 4:

Twelve hours, two meals, and an appallingly difficult shower later, Draco was still shaking. Adie had had to get out her Mini-Draco again, just to hold him up, when he couldn't stand long enough to brush his teeth. And when he couldn't sleep without dreaming of falling, he had found himself cuddling up against his friend in her room, allowing her to knead her fingers into his skull in an effort to calm him.

When he had yawned so widely that she could count his teeth, the black-haired girl smoothed back his silvery hair and settled down to sleep. He didn't.

Okay, so Adie was crazy. He had known that. But she was still his best friend and he still loved her. He just had to remember not to say anything stupid.

Getting up, he took a cigarette from the packet on her bedside table, grabbed her lighter, and headed out to the balcony to light up. He didn't smoke much. Neither did his friend, really. He had never seen her do it on British soil, and never ever when any of her family was around. It was like her drinking habit: only at school. Why, exactly, she did none of this at home, he wasn't sure, except perhaps that she didn't want to get caught. Somehow, though, that didn't add up, because she frequently got caught drinking in the dungeons (that, he suspected, was why she hadn't been made a prefect the year before, like him). He rather thought it might be because of what high respect she had for her family.

He looked up when the balcony door opened and the blue-eyed girl stepped out, carrying her carton of smokes. She sat beside him and took the lighter off the table, holding it up to the skinny white stick between her curved lips.

The cigarette took fire, spouting bluish-grey smoke from its tip. She looked at him, her eyes a strange mix of green and purple through the haze and moonlight. “I'm bored,” she told him.

He raised his eyebrows. “Shall we play a game, or something?”

Adie chuckled and took a pull of the cancer stick between her fingers. She shook her head, still grinning. “No,” she muttered, and waved her hand through the air. “I mean, I'm bored of this. Of Rome.”

“Ah.” Stubbing out his own cigarette, Draco reached for another. “Shall we go somewhere else, then? I hear Turkey's marvellous this time of year.” He flicked the lighter, took a drag, and shivered pleasurably as the nicotine permeated his bloodstream.

The almost-sixteen-year-old girl smirked, flicking ash into the ashtray shaped like a melted light bulb. “No, I just want to go home.”

“England?! But it rains there. That's why we left in the first place.”

“No, silly, Ireland.” She rolled her eyes at her friend. “And we left to get away from our parents.”

“And you want to go back to them now?” he asked, incredulously allowing smoke to escape his lips.

She thought for a moment, tapping her lip with one finger. The nail was painted a bright, happy yellow, the kind that tended to be called Sunshine or Pineapple. Finally, she smiled in the most charming way possible. “Yes.”

“Why?”

She shrugged and took a last puff of her cigarette before putting it out and standing up. “Because.”

He sighed and called after her: “that's not an answer!”

Darling Joined: 22 Feb 2009 Posts: 19

Moar, plz.

Posted: Thu Apr 09, 2009 6:15 pm

Chapter 5:

When Draco finally rose, early in the afternoon, Adrienne was sitting at the kitchen table, feeding an unfamiliar owl treats and petting its grey head gently.

“Whose owl?” the boy grunted, flipping back his straight hair and making for the fridge.

“Blaise's,” the girl replied, “she's his new one. The old one, Annette, died last month.”

Straightening up with a carton of orange juice and a package of sausages, Draco looked back at his best friend with a semi-interested expression. “Blaise, as in, Zabini? Why've you got his owl?”

“Yes, that Blaise,” Adie nodded. “He wrote to me.”

“Why?” His voice was muffled, his head stuck in a cupboard full of pots and pans.

“That,” she said, getting up and taking the pan he was looking for off the drying rack and tapping him so he would see it, “is none of your business.”

He looked at her as if she was daft and took the pan. “Yes it is.”

“Explain that to me. A letter from Blaise Zabini to me, and it's something you can stick your nose in...why, exactly?”

“Because.”

“Not an answer, Draco.”

He smirked at her. “That's what I said last night, when you used the same thing on me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “That was different.”

“Well, whatever. What did he want?”

“Nothing.” Adie returned to the table and held out her arm so that the owl could step onto her wrist, and headed for her bedroom. “Let me know when those are ready,” she called, just before the door closed.

Allowing the bird to fly up and join her own on its perch in the corner, Adie went to her desk, took hold of a pretty orange quill, and wrote a return message to Blaise that yes, she would accompany him to dinner at the lovely little pasta place he had recently discovered.

Once she had sent his owl back, she took out another sheet of parchment and wrote a message to her father to please come and take her and Draco home. She sent her own bluish-brown owl out the window, then sat back and set her feet upon the desk, waiting for her friend to come and tell her that lunch was ready.

Posted: Wed Apr 15, 2009 10:11 pm

Chapter 6:

Three days after their return to Ireland, the Sonoros hosted dinner for the Malfoys. The usual greetings were proffered, but it was quite obvious to Adie that there was something wrong with Draco; he gave only a tight-lipped smile and spoke only when necessary.

The moment the adults made for the lounge, she grabbed his arm and dragged him into the stairwell that led to her bedroom. They stepped into the empty space under the stairs, where they had spent lots of time playing as children on nights like this.

He wasn’t looking at her. Shaking him by his arm, she made him turn to her. “What’s wrong?” she asked, blue eyes wide.

“Blaise!” he growled, “and you!” He made angry, useless gestures with his arms. “Dating! It’s wrong! It’s all wrong!”

Adrienne blinked at him. “Wrong?”

“Yes! He’s...He’s Blaise and you’re you and it’s just wrong!”

She bit her lip. “I don’t understand.”

He growled again and began pacing. “I just don’t like it,” he grumbled, now advancing on her. “He’s...He’s Blaise and Blaise is...just Blaise.”

The girl pushed her hands into her pockets and shook her head. “I still don’t...Don’t really get it.”

Draco sighed and placed his hand on the stair just above his head. “He’s just...not right,” he mumbled, looking downtrodden, “I don’t know why. I just have a bad feeling about it.”

“Oh.” She looked away for a moment, then back at him. “How did you find out, anyway?”

He shuffled his feet. “I owled Blaise myself, yesterday.” He looked grumpy. “He was bragging.”

Adie raised her eyebrows and leaned against the curved wall of the stairwell. “Of course he was,” she stated, “he’s Blaise.”

“You’re not supposed to think that’s cute, or...or funny, you know,” Draco informed her, angry once more.

“I don’t.” The boy gave her his incredulous stare, and she shrugged. “I know what he’s like.”

“But then why are you...What are you...”

“Because, Draco,” – and here she smirked – “I know it really pisses you off.”

Darling Joined: 22 Feb 2009 Posts: 19

Moar. Plz.

Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2009 8:20 pm

Chapter 7:

I’m home now. Adrienne watched as her owl, Theo, fluttered out across the extensive grounds of her home, on his way to visit Draco, who had specifically asked that she send him a note after her date with Blaise.

Ten minutes later, Theo was back, carrying a scroll. And?

And what?

She could almost hear him roll his eyes as she unrolled his reply. How did it go?

He was startlingly gentlemanly, actually.

There was a hint of curiosity, now. Really? He didn’t touch you anywhere inappropriate? (I’ve sent Theo with a diagram of inappropriate places to touch.) Smirking, she unrolled the second page, with contained a sketch of a woman as if she were wearing clothing, though no clothing was apparent. A tiny legend in the corner stated that Red = off-limits to BZ. The girl’s entire body was a fabulous shade of crimson that rivalled the Gryffindor colours.

Giggling at her best friend, Adie wrote back a message. Only the places with stars. Then she went back to the picture and drew little stars all over the arms, neck, and lips of the drawing.

Remind me to kill Blaise the next time I see him.

Maybe try kissing him instead. He’s very good at it. Sending off Theo, the girl took the time while he returned to brush her teeth and change into her pyjamas. When she exited her bathroom, her owl was waiting for her on the desk.

He kissed you?! Now I have to hex him before I kill him! This is just creating more work for me!

They say it isn’t work if you enjoy doing it.

Draco’s writing had become untidy in his anxiety and haste to respond. You’re laughing at me.

You’re right, I am. Forgive me?

There was a pause, in which, Adrienne assumed, her friend was writing a tidy message of goodwill. But instead: I don’t know if I can. You kissed Blaise Zabini. You probably have AIDS or something nasty like that.

Not realizing that she’d been on edge about his forgiveness, she heaved a sigh, smiling at his amusement. You can’t discriminate against those of us with crippling diseases. Besides, I’m a pureblood. It’s just not fair.

Well, I guess I can forgive you. But you owe me, big time.

She snorted. How, oh great and mighty Draco?

I sense sarcasm.

That’s what I was going for.

His reply took a few moments extra. Theo was getting annoyed with having to fly back and forth so many times. Destroy that stupid voodoo doll you’ve got of me.

Before sending back her answer, the black-haired girl fed her owl a few treats. I guess I can do that. Send Meena back with Theo; he’s getting tired.

Two birds returned this time, a large eagle owl accompanying her own horned owl. Good. How does one go about doing such a thing, anyway?

She dipped her quill back into the grey-green ink, smirking. I’m not sure. I’ll have to ask my grandfather. I’ve never done it.

...How does that not surprise me?

Darling Joined: 22 Feb 2009 Posts: 19

omg more. pleasy please please.

please?

Posted: Thu Apr 30, 2009 7:27 am

i love it

Posted: Mon May 04, 2009 11:28 pm

Chapter 8

“Well, you’re looking cute today.”

Adie turned from where she was standing on her seat, trying to load her trunk into the rack above. “Yes – well – that is not important right now,” she grumbled, giving one more fruitless shove to her luggage.

Smirking in a very Slytherin fashion, Blaise climbed up beside his girlfriend of six weeks and gestured to the trunk. “Allow me,” he said, and pushed the baggage into place. “And now mine.” He leaned down and hoisted his own school trunk into the air and, ultimately, into the slot beside hers. Then, not getting down off the seats nor allowing his girl to do so, he smiled winningly at her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she replied, setting her palm against his chest. “And thanks.”

He shrugged one shoulder, black hair falling into his eyes, giving him that rakishly adorable look that got him in with most girls. “I’d do it again for a kiss.”

She rolled her eyes and gestured to the otherwise empty compartment. “There aren’t any more trunks left to load,” she reminded him.

“I see,” the tanned boy muttered, looking put out. “Well, can I have a kiss anyway?”

Adrienne sighed dramatically. “Oh, I suppose I can give you one. But just one.”

As she leaned close to press a kiss to his still-grinning lips, he murmured, “then I have every intention of taking more than one.”

Of course, it was just at this moment that Draco decided to enter the compartment, already trailing Crabbe and Goyle. “Oh, for God’s sake,” he said, quite loudly, “get a room.”

“We’re in a room, Draco,” his best friend pointed out, now hopping down from the bench and crossing to greet the others. “You just happen to be in the same one.”

The very white boy grumped and flopped down into a seat. “Blaise,” he muttered, jerking his head slightly angrily at the tall boy. “Had a good summer?”

“Yes, thanks.” Blaise sat too, across from Draco, and gently tugged his girlfriend into the seat beside him. “I went to Greece with my parents.”

“As I’ve been told,” the angry boy sniped, glaring daggers at Adie, who was allowing Blaise to snuggle her. She glared right back.

“Cheer up, Draco,” Goyle soothed, patting his agitated friend on the shoulder. Crossing his arms over his chest, he sunk lower in his seat, grumbling to himself.

As the train pulled away from the station, the atmosphere was tense. The only point where it was not quite so bad was when Draco took Crabbe and Goyle to find and abuse Potter. But then, Adrienne had to explain to Blaise just exactly why her friend was being such a prick.

“So you really think it’s just because he thinks I’m a womanizer?” he finally asked, anxiously winding strands of her hair around his fingertips.

“Well, yeah. What else would it be, d’you think?”

He twisted his mouth downwards. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Posted: Sun May 31, 2009 3:00 pm

Chapter 9

A lot of people at the Slytherin table whispered the first morning of term when Draco Malfoy slunk into the Great Hall three steps behind Blaise and Adrienne, who were holding hands. She tried talking to her best friend every once in a while, but he appeared very busy, staring at his plate.

The sixth years all practically leapt from their seats when Snape dropped a stack of timetables down in front of Goyle for him to pass out. “Oi, Greg, find mine first!” Millicent Bulstrode grunted, although everyone knew that hers, according to alphabetical order, was already on top.

“Oh, fuck yes,” Adie muttered upon receiving hers, and, when Blaise leaned over her shoulder to read it, she pointed out how, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, she had a free block first period, allowing her to sleep in a bit. Her two other free blocks were used up Tuesdays and Thursdays, after lunch.

Jauntily, she bid her friends goodbye and left the hall, heading back towards the Slytherin common room to nap before her first class, Advanced Transfiguration. Draco followed, also having the period off.

However, as soon as they had crossed through the Entrance Hall on their way back to the dungeons, the girl grabbed her best friend’s arm to assure he wouldn’t try to get away. “What the Hell is wrong with you?” she hissed, “I mean, I know you’re mad about Blaise, but honestly.”

“I thought you said the whole point was to piss me off,” he snapped back, “I thought you were going to break up with him when you proved your point.”

“What point?”

“That your love life is not my business.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, obviously, that hasn’t sunken in yet,” she growled, “and anyway, that may have been the point at the beginning, but I like Blaise. He’s very nice to me.”

Draco waved his hand dismissively. “A means to an end. He wants to sleep with you.”

“Perhaps,” she admitted, “but that’s later on. He’s very respectful for now.” She now looked away from her friend. “Besides, maybe eventually I’ll want to sleep with him, too.”

The boy blanched, turned, and kicked a wall. “You can’t,” he insisted, “you’re not ready.” He tried (and failed) to discreetly rub his now-aching toes against his other leg.

Adrienne stepped forward and wrapped one arm around his shoulders comfortingly. With her other hand, she tenderly petted his hair. “You’re right,” she murmured, “but I never said anything about now. I promise I won’t let him anywhere near me ‘til I want him there, okay?”

“Pinkie promise?” he asked weakly, holding his fist out, pinkie extended.

“Pinkie promise,” she nodded, hooking her own little finger into his. “And if he tries to screw me before I want him to...well, maybe I’ll teach you how to use a voodoo doll or two.”

Draco perked considerably at this notion.

Darling Joined: 22 Feb 2009 Posts: 19

Carmen. This is amazing. You should really post more often.