Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, the books, the character, the movies, or anything else related.
Disclaimer #2: I do not endorse doing drugs or underage drinking. Or being a slut. This is fiction and not based on actual events.
A/N: Pansy is taking Ecstasy. When mixed with alcohol, it can be very dangerous. (DON'T DO IT!) When taken with cannabis, the experience is more psychedelic, and it helps bring someone high on X down smoother. (Thanks to "The Good Drugs Guide" for this information.)
The Truth of the Matter
Wouldn't it be just grand if the world want back to the way they used to be? Back when they weren't confusing? What's wrong with simple and straightforward?
Harry shuffled his feet along the rocky path by the lake. He was restless, as he had been for the past few weeks. It was a sort of deep-born unrest that left him apprehensive and melancholy all of the time. And what was more, he wasn't exactly sure why.
He'd taken, these past weeks, to meandering the grounds, the way he did when his parents were on his mind, or he'd had a row with Ron or Hermione. But at least then he knew what he was sulking about. Life in general was on his mind, I suppose one could say. And it was bloody annoying.
Up in Gryffindor tower, Hermione and Ron were sitting by a window watching they're friend. A table sat between them, books and parchment spread before them, but they were taking a concerned-friend break.
"I wonder what's on his mind," Hermione pondered. Ron shrugged noncomittally. Hermione glanced at Ron with a frustrated scowl. "Nothing bad's happened lately, has it? No death threats, more so than normal, anyway, right? Nothing terrible with a friend? I don't know why he's behaving like this. It's worrisome."
Ron just stared silently out the window.
Hermione sighed, and picked up a quill. "Come on, Ron, we'd better keep going with this essay."
Down in the dungeons, the Slytherin commonrooms were starting to heat up with one of the wild parties the students threw every once in a while, on a whim. Tables and chairs were pushed to the sides, still within use, though, and a wooden dance floor set up in the center of the room. Off at the back of the room, a bar had been constructed. (No alcohol to third years and below.) The mood was perfect: dark lights, loud music, girls in revealing clothes. Draco Malfoy came down from the dormitories. He grabbed a firewhiskey from the bar, flipped a sickle to the distraught-looking house elf behind the counter, and headed for Blaise Zabini. Blaise waved the hand not around his current love-interest, a skinny blond fifth year with long legs.
"Draco! Finally! Where've you been, mate? The music's been going for a half-hour!"
He dropped into the chair next to Blaise and took a swig of his firewhiskey. "Well, sorry," he replied sarcastically. "But I had to get ready."
"Whatever. You care too much about your hair to be quite natural for a bloke," Blaise kidded. The blond on his leg giggled. Draco made a noise in the back of his throat and took another drink. Blaise looked around. "Hey, where's your woman?"
Draco shrugged. "I'm sure she'll be here in a bit. She's usually one of the first ones to get wild."
Sure enough, a few minutes later, Pansy Parkinson stumbled over and fell into Draco's lap. Her shirt was unbuttoned a few buttons too low for it to have been down on purpose (by her, in any case). "Hey, babe," Draco smirked, not surprised by her state. "Want a firewhiskey?"
She shook her head vigorously. "Can't. 'M high," she stuttered. "Got any weed? I wanna use it for the comedown later."
"Ecstasy?" Blaise guessed. Pansy nodded. "Sure, I've got some grass up in the dormitory. We'll get it out later."
"Thanks. Oh! And I've got some extra E if anyone wants some." She stood up clumsily and pulled an expensive-looking velvet bag from her pocket. Blaise and his blond extended their hands enthusiastically. After she distributed a few pills, she turned back to Draco. "You want some, Honey-fuck?"
He chortled at her latest nick-name for him. "Sure. I could do with a fun night." He reached into the proffered bag.
Draco popped the pill into his mouth, and washed it down with his firewhiskey. Pansy squealed, pulled him up and screamed, "Let's dance!"
Harry sat at the shore or the lake and threw stones into the water, watching the ripples spread over the surface. A blank look lay on his handsome features. He wondered briefly what was going on up in the common room that he was missing, but only briefly. He was sure it wasn't anything exciting; it almost never was. And perhaps that was a good thing, what with his life being what it was.
He threw another handful of pebbles out onto the lake and sighed. But maybe his life needed more excitement.
A/N : First real post in over a year! Huzzah! Short chapter, yes, but this is just the beginning. It'll be longer next time, I'm sure. I've got plans...