#convomichael

Romilda loved parties. She loved Quidditch after parties. And she especially loved the after-after parties, when most of the dead weights had gone home and the interesting things started happening. Things she could write about, sure, but mostly things she could enjoy. Like how her reoccurring Friend with Benefits, Michael Corner was giving her eyes from across the room. So they were on tonight. That was good to know. They went through waves, sometimes they’d be hooking up every other day, sometimes they would swear at each other and not speak for weeks. Until one of them gave into their needs and appeared on a doorstep or made a move at a party. They were in one of their ‘on’ waves. They’d been hooking up for about two months straight, one of their longest runs without a huge blowup. It was nearly impressive.

Some parties had better company than others though. Unfortunately at this party there was a girl that Romilda had grown up with, Mary Wilton. Mary lived near Romilda when they were young, and happened to go to Hogwarts the year after she did. Mary had always annoyed Romilda, maybe they were too alike. But tonight she was annoying because she kept cutting Romilda off when she was talking. They were in a smaller group of the party when shit had started going down “So I told the girl-” Romilda continued when Mary had piped up “Is this story still going?” Romilda hadn’t liked that. “Maybe if you stopped cutting me off, Mary. It’d be finished sooner.” she’d snapped back. “Not my fault your stories are shit Rom. Why don’t you let someone else speak for a change?” Mary had said, looking very pleased with herself, tossing her obvious hair extensions over her shoulder. Romilda thought she looked like a rat when she pulled her face like that. “Shut the fuck up Mary. Telling stories is literally my job” she scoffed, already wanting to hex the stuck up bitch. “You work for a gossip rag. Thats hardly something to be bragging about. You only work there because you don’t have any skills for a real job.” Mary said, clearly very proud of herself as a few members of the group they were in had looked away either snickering or uncomfortable. Romilda’s face dropped. Fucking bitch. 

The more that Romilda was on the train, she enjoyed it. There was so much happening and she couldn’t wait to read the witch weekly article that surely was going to break down all the drama that happened, it was going to be juicy she couldn’t wait. She’d gone to try and find Katie, give her the run down of what she’d already heard about, when she saw a familiar face coming up the other end of the hallway. Bloody Michael Corner. She hadn’t seen him since before she sent that goddamn letter, and since before Lisa had come to her office. An interaction that she definitely didn’t enjoy, but at least the two hadn’t become locked in a screaming match, they’d been weirdly civil. Still, Romilda didn’t like her on principle. She was not prepared to deal with Michael today, and his smug face, so she made a split second decision when she saw an empty compartment and slipped in, hoping that Michael would just walk straight past and she’d be able to continue her search for Katie.