Heartbreaker

“Well, that’s not true.” Fred glances over his shoulder to find Molly watching the proceedings and sipping at her drink with an impassive expression, her eyes fixed on Alfie with an almost frightening intensity. “I love him.” Her eyes flicker to meet his. “Hit him again, Freddie.” 

He’s more than happy to comply, hauling Alfie in by grabbing a handful of his shirt and dragging him in to meet his next swing. It connects with the satisfying smack of flesh meeting flesh and he can see why Molly gets into so many fights now. This is oddly cathartic. “You’re a fucking prick,” he laughs, the realisation sweet, “You’ve always been a fucking prick. You can’t fuck worth a damn, and I’m better off without you. I’ve always been better off without you. And now I’m…done, with you. With this. It’s over.”

“Looks like you’ve lost this game,” Molly observes drily, before she wanders away, interest seemingly lost. Fred shoves the other away from him in disgust; it’s hard to believe he could have ever craved his touch as badly as he had. 

It doesn’t…hurt, not the way he’d expected it to. It’s the answer he’d been waiting for, really. Molly had told him, so many times, that Alfie was just messing him about, that he got off on causing other people misery. And Fred hadn’t wanted to believe her. But he’s got the proof now, right out of Alfie’s own mouth. It makes him smile. His lips curl upwards and the overwhelming urge he’d felt – to burst into tears – fades slowly. His other words – about what he’d done to Izabela – only tear such a jagged hole through his chest because they’re true, at least to an extent. Fred takes a moment to straighten himself out, tugs his shirt back into place and wipes at the blood smeared on his lips, until it’s streaked across the knuckles of one hand instead. 

That’s the hand he uses to punch Alfie right in his smart mouth. 

He’s waiting for defeat, for more tears, for the insistence that he must have had real feelings for him at some point. But none of that happens. Instead Fred smiles. Alfie raises an eyebrow in confusion, allowing his hands to drop away from the other boy as he leans away from him. Maybe he’s drunker than he first appeared. Then Fred’s fist is connecting with his mouth and he’s staggering back. A hand moves to hold his jaw and he spits out blood, bracing himself against a nearby tree. “What the fuck Weasley?” He regrets talking immediately, the action sending pain through his face once more. Behind Fred he can see Izabela, still with that sad broken look to her, but now her eyebrows are raised in shock. Alfie grimaces and straightens himself, still nursing his mouth, “It’s not my fault you don’t like the truth, at least now you can know for sure that no one loves you.”

“I got an invite, someone who wants to see me make a fool of myself. But I would never pass down a party even if it means being a fool.”

He glances at her, but his bored expression doesn’t change, “That doesn’t exactly sounds like the smartest way to live your life but who am I to judge.”

“Well, the truth may cost you, I’d be careful.” Ivy laughed at her comment, making sure it was known that it was a joke.

He raises an eyebrow, obviously unimpressed at her joke. “I’m going to assume it was by invitation. Everyone here of their own accord is already completely hammered.”

Dom shook her head. “Unfortunately, I have absolutely no idea who thought it would be fun to throw a forbidden party in the forbidden forest.” She wished she did know, then she wouldn’t be constantly worried someone was potentially watching her, and who knew about her little issue. Not that it was too big of an issue anyway.  “You wanna grab a drink or something?”

“Shut up,” Fred snarls, biting at the other’s lip until the familiar taste of blood floods his mouth. When he pulls back, there’s red smeared across his bottom lip. “Loved you!” He practically spat the words, swaying on the spot, “You–you made me love you! I didn’t make her love me! It wasn’t my fault!” The word’s a sob that bursts out of him with enough force that it makes him practically collapse into Alfie. “It wasn’t my fault,” he repeats, voice little more than a croak. He wants to wrap his arms around Alfie’s neck, like he used to, wants to be held. But he can’t bring himself to, or to ask. “…Tell me why you did it. Tell me why you made me love you. You owe me that much.”

Alfie grips him harder as he feels his teeth dig into his lip, when Fred pulls away he leans to the side and spits out the blood, a dark chuckle leaving his lips. “You can’t make someone love you Freddie. I did to you exactly what you did to that poor girl.” He sneers, “I lied.” It’s almost sad really, seeing Fred so desperate to relieve himself of the guilt, but Alfie just rolls his eyes, “You can tell yourself that all you want, but I think you knew exactly what you were doing. You flattered her and followed her and made her all kinds of empty promises.” Alfie can’t help but step back as Fred collapses into him, an eyebrow quirking at his question, “You want to know why I did it?” He grasps Fred’s chin, makes the other boy look him in the eye, “I did it because it’s fun.”

@bitxfadick

He’s drunk, stupidly so. 

The firewhiskey hasn’t done anything to soothe the hurt that had come from what he’d had to do to Izabela, like he’d hoped it would. Fred takes another swig from the bottle he’d swiped from the ‘refreshments’ table and scans the small crowd of partygoers for a certain someone. Once he’s spotted him, Fred hauls himself to his feet, with only minimal swaying. What he’s about to do is a bad idea, even he can recognise that, as sloshed as he is. But that doesn’t stop him from grabbing Alfie by the shirt and dragging him in close. “I hope you’re fucking happy now,” he murmurs, slurring a little, “’cause I’ve just done something really, really stupid. And I’m about to do something even stupider.”

And he leans forward and kisses him. 

He’d heard that some couple had had a massive fight or something, but had paid no mind to it. He’s reclined against a tree, arms folding over his chest as he watches the party. The last thing he expects is for an incredibly drunk Fred to grab the front of his shirt. Of course, his hands immediately go to the other boy’s waist, tugging him closer during the kiss. He’s smirking when they break apart, “Freddie that was too easy. Really, with all your gusto about loving her I thought you’d at least put up a fight.” His eyes drift over Fred’s shoulder and meet Izabela’s unmistakable green ones through the crowd, even if they are filled with tears, and his smirk only grows. “You know, I’ve never seen someone die on the inside before, but I think that’s what it looks like.” He gestures to the girl, “You could have spared her feelings a bit.” His hand finds its way to the back of Fred’s neck, and pulls him into a kiss again.

“I got an invite. Still don’t understand why I got an invite, but I did. Doesn’t seem like the kind of thing you’d want a professor at.” he said with a shrug, “Luckily I’m too busy to put what seems to be the entirety of three years in detention.”

“An invite. Does that make me special?” Mallory asked with a light smirk on her face, tossing her hair behind her head.

“An invite, but the grapevine does travel fast. I heard a third year puff apparently tried to buy his way in.” Dominique replied, taking a sip of her drink. “You?” So far her only drinking a little bit was going well, but that was always how parties started out for her. She’d been drinking for so long, that her tolerance for alcohol had really built up, and so far she wasn’t even tipsy yet.

The words were innocent enough, but coming from the older boy combined with the innocuous touch and wink, they made Scorpius’ cheeks feel hot. ‘’Ah- I’m on rounds tomorrow night?’’ he offered with an almost shy, little smile and a reach up to rub the back of his neck in a nervous tic. ‘’I’m sure you can find better company.’’

Scorpius stilled a little at the touch, but swallowed a little too hard and took a drink from his cup. He wasn’t making a fool out of himself this time. He wasn’t. He shook his head with a little laugh. ‘’Nah, it was Arithmacy, which I’m usually pretty good at,’’ he said with a shrug of his shoulders, very much aware of Alfie’s hand until it moved and his shoulders sagged slightly. It was distracting when he touched him. He shook his head again and took a bite of his food before answering. ‘’No, I had them last night. Part of why I didn’t get much sleep, probably.’’

Scorpius shot Alfie a little smile and gave a nod of thanks. ‘’Thanks, mate.’’ He couldn’t understand how his name could sound so… Different. It was distracting, to be honest. He took a bite of his food before covering his mouth and answering. ‘’I fell asleep, actually,’’ he said almost bashfully with a helpless shrug. ‘’Probably not gonna get to sleep tonight now though.’’

Scorpius felt his ears heat up for some reason at the comment and look. He licked his lips subconsciously and tried to stay cool when his hand moved lower. Because it totally did that time, he wasn’t just imagining it. Now, why was the real question, but Scorpius wasn’t about to ask that. ‘’Uh, yeah. You probably could,’’ he said with a little laugh. ‘’And that’s better than it being all rubbish,’’ he added. He felt his face go warm a bit and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. He couldn’t tell if Alfie was mocking him or not. He reached up to push fingers through his hair in a nervous gesture, ending with him rubbing at the back of his neck. ‘’Yeah. So, uh- Do you play any?’’

Merlin, this is almost to easy. The grin on Alfie’s lips is now an almost permanent fixture, it’s been too long since he’s had this effect on someone, he’s forgotten how fun it can be. “Precisely my thoughts as well.” He says, smiling down at the younger boy as they grow closer to the Hufflepuff common room. “If you keep doing that with your hair it’ll end up in all sorts of funny shapes.” He says with a soft laugh, reaching up his free hand to flatten one unruly lock of hair before pulling away, “I play, I’m Keeper, have been for a few years now.”