A Dementor's Kiss - Phan

Luna

A party and an apology

~

The last exam was Astrology. It took place at midnight, and the moment it had finished a cheer went up that roused all the slumbering lower-years. Dan leapt out of his bed, shrugging off his pyjamas to reveal his clothes still on underneath. The boy in the four poster next to him raised his eyebrows in alarm.

“You can’t be going to the party, surely? You didn’t have any exams and besides, they’ll have locked the castle doors. Only the fifth and seventh-years are allowed out.”

Dan just grinned, adding a final flourish to his hair and sweeping out into the silent corridor. Phil was where he’d promised he’d be, and in no time Dan was swept along with the throng of excited chatter – his height allowing him to blend easily into the boisterous crowd of older students. Teachers ushered them quickly out the castle doors and towards the marquee positioned as far from the dormitories as possible.

Professor McGonagall stepped up onto a podium and pointed her wand at her throat. “Sonorous,” she said, before addressing the crowd – her voice now booming easily over the jostling heads. “My congratulations to you all. You have worked incredibly hard over the past few months, and we are all so very proud of you. Now is not the time to worry about your results however; that will wait till July. Now is the time to celebrate. We ask only that you remain responsible and do not disturb the other years, either now or when returning to your dormitories. The curfew is four thirty, anyone attempting to disregard this curfew will be severely punished. We are allowing your party, but please, do not push it. Good night, and good luck.”

~

Butterbeer flowed freely and everyone seemed too caught up in the celebrations to take much notice of the third year tag along, which suited Dan perfectly. Chris, with his seemingly endless supply of energy, was still dancing enthusiastically on the multi-coloured dance floor, his arms wind milling violently and nearly taking out a willowy seventh year as she passed with a tray of drinks. Phil and Carrie were arm in arm attempting to perfect an Irish jig while PJ and Dan sat comfortably up against one of the supporting pillars. PJ had attempted to rustle up a pair of chairs but seemed to be considerably more intoxicated than he’d originally assumed, and the three-legged, distorted hunks of wood lay pitifully out on the grass, abandoned under the moonlight.

“He’s such an idiot.” PJ said fondly, staring out at Chris as he flung his legs up in the air one after the other, hideously out of time with the music.

Dan smiled. “I’m going to have to agree with you there.” Chris had overestimated a leap and lost his balance, toppling over to land in a tangled heap of long limbs on the floor. He sprung back up like a jack-in-the-box however, and in no time he was on the floor attempting the worm.

PJ snorted into his drink as Chris writhed towards him, a glazed grin in his eyes. Phil was returning too, out of breath and pink in the cheeks with Carrie, laughing, still on his arm.

“Beaten by the dance floor?” PJ smiled. “I’m disappointed.”

“Nope,” Chris pulled himself to his feet. “Just came to get you two lazy lumps. Come on, it’s time to express yourselves!”

Chris pulled them both up by the hands and now it was Phil’s turn to watch and laugh as Dan was spun in circles. At the height of his spin, Chris let go and sent Dan tumbling and reeling dizzily into the crowd. After apologizing profusely to the seventh years whose drinks he had spilled, Dan charged back on to the dancefloor with revenge in his eyes. Chris was dipping PJ dramatically, his eyes sparkling under the lanterns, and Dan clattered into the pair, tumbling them over with ease. Phil sniggered as they wrestled, while Carrie tsked. She tried several times to strike up a conversation with Phil, but he paid little attention to her and she got up again, annoyed, and headed back to the drinks table. She was filling her goblet with bubbling blue punch when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Suzie Spinner stood behind her, looking awkward.