"Sweet bejesus, it's as cold in here as a dementor's dating life, and just as disgusting as their rank breath," Guy whined, dropping his head back against a crumbling stone pillar that several female students had crowded onto the base of in an awkward semi-circle.
A slew of exhausted and unimpressed Slytherins had been mysteriously herded into a dank cellar within the serpentine intestines of the castle, which looked in appearance to be part of the oldest foundational sector dating as far back as a millennia.
The bricks were dripping from the pressure of the buffering Black Lake, and all manner of crawling and screeching critters were scrambling about. Even more bizarre were the 'Elf Tunnels', burrowing into the corridors at random locations leading to Merlin knew where.
What made the unscripted trip even worse was that it was after curfew at ten in the evening, directly at the beginning of exam week, and conducted by a blathering Professor Slughorn who had gone on and on about the dangerous instability of Shrinking Potions - of which nobody cared to hear.
His right bushy eyebrow raised unnaturally skyward into his droopy plum hat as he warned that Shrinking Potions were not pumpkin juice, and in fact incredibly easy to poison oneself with beyond repair.
"Don't get me started on the disappearing case of Barnabas Burlington. Nelly's belly, found him ten years later in his cottage, still the size of a thimble!" he cried in hilarity.
"The only thing shrinking right now is his remaining brain cells," Blaise harped cruelly, only for the drunkard professor to spin around and burp shockingly concentrated wine-breath in their faces, searching for who had made the comment without avail.
The purpose of the seemingly abandoned, subterranean chamber they were brought to could either be an archaic pantry - as it was subjectively located directly below the Great Hall - or in the worst case scenario; some form of horrendous crematorium.
It was defined by megalithic masonry fireplaces stretching as high as the twenty-foot ceilings. The room hosted large wooden barrels covered in cobwebs, and prevalent carpets of mold across the stone flooring.
More disturbingly were the torch-mounted flames; constructed gruesomely out of skeleton arms, which without explanation terminated in the walls where they would once have oscillated in the socket of a collarbone connection.
"Frankenstein was assembled in here, I'm sure of it," Guy gulped next to Audette as the flickering room grew eerie and unnerving - most of the students blinking in confusion as to whether they were once again being punished as a whole House for someone's nasty behavior at lunch.
Slughorn was so hammered that it would almost seem he thought he was entirely alone, proceeding to stumble over to a rotting barrel and pour himself a questionably dark purple liquid into a chipped chalice.
If he didn't watch himself he'd end up as drunk as the ukulele man in Sleeping Beauty, and with something far worse than an instrument lodged on his head given the crowd he was supposed to be babysitting.
Audette had her eyes mindlessly caught on Theodore Nott, who was seated all alone in the center of the room on a rotund barrel.
Like a lanky prince of gloom, his long brown hair was covering an angry gaze downcast to his left arm, scratching viciously at his skin through an expensive navy Armani suit.
Perhaps he'd burnt himself in a potions class - but such clumsiness was not characteristic of him.
Theodore was so calculated in fact, that he knew precisely and weeks in advance when he aught to run out of toothpaste. He'd even monitored his heart rate and air flow so meticulously each day since the age of thirteen, that he could now manipulate his bodily functions in survival situations as necessary.
Whatever the cause of the itch was, it was quite an extreme sensation, one in which was rendering him atypically helpless...
Understandably unbothered by the evident suffering, Guy sniffed in Audette's ear, "Bloody maniac yelled my face nearly clean off my skull - it's a miracle my hair isn't ninety degrees horizontal. You know what, I used to see him as the pensive type, but there's a different sort of darkness in his eyes now, Detty. He's different."
"Yes I know, I've seen it myself, and I watched that unravel in Droopy's. Do pray tell," Audette turned to him quickly, her long hair swirling around with the motion.
Guy leaned far into her and cupped a hand to her ear, whispering covertly, "He thinks you've joined Excetra, or are about to. Was asking what you know about this guild, and what you actually know about your new babe, Draco Malfoy."
"Hmm," Audette sighed, "That might explain why the inquiry went on for such a drag. Obviously we know nothing substantial yet, but you looked all shades of fibbing. Did he mention that he slept around in Monaco?"
Guy shook his head vigorously, "Blimey, no. He did however inquire as to whether Malfoy had somehow bagged you without his knowledge. Great Scott, he even asked me if you were pregnant."
"Ugh the hypocrisy, I could just," Audette bent all of her nails inwards in her lap, as if an invisible crystal ball were situated there showing her images of his debauchery that she wished to implode.
Thankfully the universe offered a distraction.
"Do show us this diadem from Malfoy, Bellarose. It's all anyone can talk of," Daphne Greengrass peered around Guy with contrasting eyes.
Word of such a doting had apparently spread through the castle like the basilisk in their second year.
Audette retrieved the precious felt box from her minty dress pocket to pop it open in her lap, and even Pansy gasped in short awe of the starry blaze it released under the dark blue candles.
"It was in royal possession during the fourteenth century, so he says," Audette bragged obnoxiously. At least ten girls of varying ages stood and crowded around the display to coo, whispering enviously to one another.
Comments flooded in left and right.
It's more beautiful than a star.
You're so lucky, Bellarose, you've tamed the devil himself.
What dress are you going to wear with it?
She had no idea what dress she was wearing, given that Narcissa Malfoy of all people so boldly wished to take silly Audette to Cava for a fitting.
Even though it had been mere hours, she'd already sent an owl to her mother hoping that she too would join in order to reduce the intense pressure of the occasion.
Pansy's gorgeous dark eyes lingered on the nearly glowing jewels in Audette's paws in the darkness, "Pity...the amount of gold he spends to preserve your mercurial attention. What a pathetic weakness."
Audette shut the velvety box before Guy's slimy fingers could snap out to touch without any control.
"What's that meant to insinuate?" she hissed at Pansy.
Words needn't be ushered, as Audette followed Pansy's perspective back to Theodore Nott.
She quickly corrected her stature so that he was not in her direct line of sight, pretending that she hadn't noticed.
With all of the girls gushing and humming she dragged her eyes in the opposite direction to Draco who was watching her show off his gift with a sideways stare, glancing away periodically to speak with his closest friends under his breath.
Tonight, she saw Draco's lips form the word, his mouth curling up on one side as he spoke to the group of horrible boys.
This garnished a seriously direct glance from both Blaise and Goyle straight into Audette's eyes. In fact, all five of his friends stared her up and down carnivorously.
Tonight? Blaise drifted his gaze lackadaisically back to Draco with a slight smirk that made her skin prickle.
Oh yeah, Draco nodded coyly, reaching up his lanky fingers to disguise the movement of his lips. He was bragging too; he'd have his way with Audette in the early morning hours.
As if armored with supersonic hearing, Theodore Nott paused his wrist scratching, his head popping up like a seagull that had just caught a whiff of fresh chips.
It was truly shocking how hollow his dark blue eyes had grown, shadowy circles edging below his long eyelashes. As though he were fighting a serious disease he appeared ill and burnt out...and instantly even more distressed, swiveling his head between Draco and Audette before blasting to a stance.
Apparently coming to the harsh understanding that she indeed planned to give herself intimately to Malfoy was too much to handle.
The empty barrel he'd been occupying bumbled off in a wooden clacking, stopping at the knee of a puffy-eyed Slughorn who patted the curvilinear wooden rind like a dog, mumbling, "Ah, good boy, good boy."
Sweeping straight for the bolted entrance to the door, Theo nearly mowed down Snape as he opened the cranky aperture, making eye contact for a split second with the professor before disappearing somehow without reprimand.
Guy nudged Audette hard in the ribs, "Psst. Nott also said something strange about Malfoy switching places with him. Not much of a clue what that hogwash is about, but don't think he's exactly over the moon about it."
Hmm. The cabinet project.
Draco had looked strangely worse for wear in the exact same manner during their sixth and seventh years. Come to think of it, he'd even slowed down on his participation in sports, frequently leaving for home in the middle of the week and not so busy showing off.
Audette and Guy had nearly walked in on him multiple times having some bizarre meltdown in the virtually abandoned second-floor girl's lavatory, copious locks of pearly hair tangled in his bony fingers, his face buried in the knees of his black trousers. Neither had ever found the courage to approach and ask why.
She'd always assumed that it was due to his father's extremely public incarceration at Azkaban prison following the events of the prior tournament, when Lucius Malfoy had been accused of being a follower of the supposedly returning 'dark lord'. Whether or not that was actually true had remained public speculation, given that the trial at the Ministry had been unbelievably privatized, and in the end Mr. Malfoy had eventually been released.
Hmm.
She grimaced at the sight of Draco laughing obnoxiously in the wake of Theodore's momentary escape.
"Chiao Nott! Run on back to Rome to weep in your toy boat," he crossed his arms in satisfactory arrogance before a narrow expression from Snape quickly shut down his exaggerated amusement, including all of the other eighteen year old boy's hysterical reactions.
Hmmmmm.
A very bad feeling was scratching at the lining of her tummy, of which felt similar to a rapid onset of food poisoning. Her eyes dropped to the flawless felt box, turning it over in her fingers.
Surprisingly, Severus Snape was not the last to arrive.
Stepping aside, he motioned in a multiplicity of absolutely horrified Ravenclaw and Beauxbatons students, who were very much not accustomed to the dripping 'Frankenstein' conditions of the dungeons.
They were all dressed in gentle garments of pale tones, sliding into the subterrestrial space with a total lack of enthusiasm.
Professor Flitwick - the miniature head of Ravenclaw House - was nowhere to be seen. Nor was the gargantuan Headmaster of Beauxbatons.
Snape shut the rather heavy vault-like door behind him and whorled around the clustering students in a storm of darkness, explaining then what the purpose of the congregation was.
With disposition in his obsidian orbs he pointed his wand at each colossal furnace, igniting a monstrous set of blazing bonfires before spinning on his heel stylishly with the resulting inferno framing his silhouette.
Every word out of his mouth was saturated with dread, "Regrettably...as you all know, the Yule Ball has been scheduled for the twenty-fourth of this month. Seeing as our very own Professor Flitwick is devoid of...the appropriate stature...and Madame Maxine is inflicted with the reverse condition...neither are suitable to guide dance lessons, so you may all find yourselves within mine and Professor Slughorn's...somewhat delicate care."
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Professor Slughorn was quite preoccupied with not caring for anyone at all, his features utterly gobsmacked by the transverse movement of a fat beetle which was bumbling along the ridge of a rickety table.
Snape landed his focus on Horace who took several steps back in a drunkard haze before jeering with a chalice high in hand, causing a bubbling of giggles from the youths observing, "Yes, yes, what a magical opportunity!"
Snape continued on with detached ardor, "Some of you are grandfathered in the dexterity of dancing, however many remain uneducated. It is as such, the responsibility of those who have already attended a Yule Ball to pass along instruction to those who have not. This is the singular opportunity for Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Beauxbatons, to do exactly that."
From the glare in his beady black eyes, Snape had no intention of personally teaching a group of teenagers to waltz.
The amount of groaning and whining from the boys was enough to drown out excitable whispers from the girls, half of which were still waiting for invitations and hyperactively staring around the room at options.
"Come now, you there dear lass, you're a champion you'll be dancing first - see it is quite elementary," Slughorn made the horrific decision to coax the elegant Beauxbatons female champion into the center of the room, forcing the girl to dance with him who's cheeks went as rosy as an apple.
With his frumpy hat sliding down over his eyes Slughorn shifted his feet in a controlled pattern, counting one two three over and over.
Other than this embarrassing pair no one else dared to move, despite Snape turning on a ragged record player before retreating into the shadows to brood like a human bat.
It was a combination of haughty and cruel Slytherins facing off against charming Ravenclaws and clueless Parisians too proud to do anything that would result in serious bullying.
Students began to form into defensive groups with their best allies, sneaking wine from the aged barrels and utilizing the time to socialize and gossip more than anything. A few of the youngest practiced waltzing together, but anyone over the age of sixteen was not partaking.
Unsurprisingly, several tripping curses were cast low to the ground which resulted in a very sloppy and blundering crowd, and the heat from the furnaces coupled with the wine only inflamed the idiocy.
Audette swayed in place when Draco gripped her shoulders from behind possessively, shouting above her head with the other crowding boys and making fun out of innocent people just trying to learn to dance. The pressure of his veiny hands pushing down on her birdy collarbones was not ideal, but the warmth of his contact was inevitably soothing in her sleepy state.
She eventually shut her eyes and leaned her head back against his dress shirt, on a mission to fall asleep while trying to block out the mean commentary in their social bubble which filtered into her dreary senses like stabbing knives.
"Just watch, just watch...he's about to ask her, it's a guaranteed flunk with that ugly mug."
"Aw no, are you gutted Williams? Didn't get the answer you were grafting for, eh?"
"Oh yeah, because you know she's gonna get mad trollied and blow him in the carriages like last year. Everyone wants to take 'Blowie Bonny Brown.'"
"What a wanker, aim for his ankles, aim for his ankles Crabbe!"
"...now, but she's the one with the huge jugs. Merlin, remember that dress she wore last round that was too tight? Was like the ruddy Grand Canyon."
"...gonna practice his breast stroke if you know what I mean."
"Too bad Malfoy's out of the game this year."
Audette's ears pulled back on her head instinctually, like a dog detecting the word walk.
"Obviously. There's nothing to compete for against Bellarose. I'll leave the scraps to you dogs."
The racy gossip was so atrocious that Audette's eyes snapped open when she heard her own name, squinting instantly in defense.
Her hair was being played with and twisted to one side, his cold fingers tracing her collarbone underneath her dress.
She reached up to touch his knuckles with a groan of exhaustion, "Draco, did I just now hear my own name?"
"Oh look who's awake. See here the fairest minx of them all," Draco slid his hand up her throat to grip her jaw, forcing her attention skywards at an angle to make uncomfortable eye contact with Greggory, Vincent and Blaise.
"You can be a real cocky git Malfoy, no need to brag," Blaise remarked dryly, an air of bitterness in his deep voice.
"Oh how inconsiderate of me, should I be placing a paper bag over her head to soothe your jealousy?" Draco let her face drop away, lucky for him right as she was contemplating ferally biting his fingers, leaving Audette blinking through the discomfort of their hearty snickering.
Crabbe sniffed heavily, speaking directly in her ear as if she wasn't before him listening, "At least our dates are a guaranteed shag. Yours'll be headed home in a bloody pumpkin before midnight, whining about her missing glass slipper."
"Or better yet she'll prick her finger on a spinning wheel and go straight to sleep. Don't forget your melting potions to get through that chastity belt, oi Malfoy," Goyle barked, all of them now raging with laughter.
"That's enough, another word and I'll rip your filthy tongues out," Draco's tone drastically darkened. Audette shut her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief that he'd shut down the princess mockery before she threw a fit of astronomical proportions.
It was eerily quiet for a second before they wisely went on to another poor girl in question.
There was nothing to do but sit there in Draco's petting hands and ignore the spine-tingling sensation that they were chauvinistically comparing females. She soon slumped into one of his arms as he adoringly pinched at her lovely dress and combed her gorgeous locks into a tangled mess, wishing he would practice formal dancing with her instead.
Unfortunately, as soon as he'd come over with his toxic posse, Draco had made very clear not to ask. It was without a doubt due to a stupid need to appear masculine and cool.
Eye roll.
Audette had then been cut off mid-sentence when she tried to explain that she was a stellar independent dancer, but that was mainly in ballet. The second it evolved into a tandem activity she went on to make a victim out of any poor boy by stomping all over his feet.
It was another reason among hundreds to flee during Debutante Balls.
If she didn't practice at least once, then the first place champion was going to be dragged to the ground in a matter of seconds in front of the entire Quadrivial population.
And no crown in her hair could fix that fuck up.
"Will you waltz with me?" she whispered to Cosmos, who'd very boldly slumped his head against Draco's arm as well, their foreheads effectively knocking together like children hanging onto their father.
It was with considerable persistence that Guy had edged his way into Draco's rarely approved of social circle. Of course, his friendship with Audette had been a catalytic factor as well.
Guy cleared his throat aggressively, suggesting he'd just choked on his own spit as they met eyes over Draco's black suit sleeve, "Are you taking the barking piss? In front of these nasty gits? Think again missy!"
Well...
Then if a disaster should occur during the opening dances, it would be Draco's own doing for disregarding her blatant warnings.
She'd been previously very lucky that Theodore was strong and patient, moving her slowly in his arms in itty bitty micro-circles.
Scratch.
Again, there it was, that little scratch of pain in her heart that was absolutely meant to already be dissolved. It was as if a mouse had been accidentally trapped in her rib cage, clawing now and then at her most vital organs to remind her of such painful realities.
She sighed and closed her eyes, burying her nose in Draco's clothing and attempting to swallow away her growing concern that Theodore Nott had never stopped loving her in the first place.
Regardless, that obscured veracity was no longer her business to muse over.
"May I 'ave dis dance wit' you, petite belle?" a sugary male voice brought her out of a near upright doze.
Who?
She peered in disbelief that someone would even dare approach the girl with a viper hanging around her neck.
There before them stood the seventh place Beauxbatons champion, his soft hand held out. He was dressed in a silver tunic which had not a single flaw or stray fiber, the Fleur De Lis shining on his chest. It was the very boy whom Guy had come to pine over quite religiously, the very same boy who had been seriously unfriendly in the cave leading into the first trial.
"Well I..." she stuttered instantly as a wave of hot fear splashed across her cheeks, "N-no I'm astringently accounted for."
Duh.
"Well eef 'e is so confident, one dance cannot be so bad, hmm? Afraid to lose 'er, Englishman?" the boy stubbornly raised his brows to Draco, who was eyeing him down with a demonic yet composed glare.
Audette glanced up at Draco who's eyes had narrowed wickedly, appearing much like his murderous and respectively curt father for a moment. The silence alone was deadly.
Goyle jeered next to him, "You know what Malfoy, I think this bloke's got a death wish. Should we see how quickly those furnaces can incinerate a live body?"
"No," Draco flashed a thin smile for a millisecond, slanting his head to the side. His eyes flared as he spoke, "Let's see what he's capable of boys. Go on, by all means, take her. She wants to dance, you can entertain my girlfriend for me. Isn't that right Audette? Want to go dance with the nancy?"
It was a trap, it had to be.
As he shook her shoulders she looked straight up into his enchanting silvery eyes, hooded and downcast on her reaction over his pointy nose.
She would like to dance, but if she agreed surely there would be a missing person's case within twenty-four hours.
Instead she leaned far back into her menacing beaux. Her beautiful hair built up around her face on either side as she sunk into his suit, the ring of pink flowers encircling the crown of her locks slowly falling down her forehead, "I sense a headache coming on, I shall respectfully decline."
"Aw don't be so shy Audette, where are your manners?" Draco harshly shoved her forward, and Audette barely scrambled to her feet as he pushed her a second and a third time into the Parisian who smelled like lavender and flowers, "Go. We wouldn't want to deprive Noir of his only chance to dance with a real girl."
What the fuck? she mouthed at Draco over her shoulder in mild worry.
Sporting an unreadable expression he simply popped his eyebrows, "Go on."
Tepidly, Audette allowed herself to be led away by the floral boy with a neat bun and sparkly skin.
"You are a good dancer, oui?" he searched her face as she began to titter nervous nothings under her breath, raising her hand in his and yanking her tight by the waist.
"'ow you say, clumsy?" he read her features when she failed to respond. "Dat is okay, we make it work, 'ere, like so," he stepped from side to side at a stiff and calm pace, and Audette kept her eyes on her slippers the entire time.
Alright, this wasn't so bad.
It was actually helpful and she was gaining confidence by the second. Just as she'd predicted that first day in the Great Hall when he'd appeared at the Ravenclaw table, he was elegant and courtly, moving her like a swan across the floor.
"I must be 'onest wit' you, I did not ask you to dance for practice sake. I 'ave an um, personal inquiry," he smiled gently down at her, and Audette called upon every reserve of self control she possessed to avoid making any face that would look flirty or bashful.
She pointed her nose at Draco who was calmly watching albeit with corrosion in his eyes, likely waiting for the perfect opportunity to do something awful the minute she made a mistake, "I should warn you now - that boy I was with, he's quite volatile. If you're going to ask me out, holding your tongue now would be a wise decision."
"Sssh, non non, I know," he followed her eyes to the Slytherin pack she'd just departed from.
Audette had to do a double take when she realized he wasn't concerning himself with Draco whatsoever, but rather Guy who was snoring against the support pillar with his long blue hair hanging down over his eyes.
"Guy? You're interested in Cosmos?" a delighted grin etched across her face.
"Oui, you are bon ami are you not? 'e is wonderfully gay yes?" he asked.
He dipped her back at a steep angle, and Audette chewed on her bottom lip with growing happiness for her friend, "Yes precisely. Cosmos and Noir, now that is a colorful combination. He would be...he would be so elated. Please do ask h-"
Suddenly the steep angle turned into a completely flat plane as the boy fought to retain his footing.
His shoes had just been transfigured into shiny rollerblades.
Audette tried to grab his shirt but in the end they both fell on their backsides in a puff of dust on the dirty floors. One could only imagine who the assailant was.
Predictable.
"Bastard," she growled at Draco under her breath, her hair flopped over half of her face as she assisted the boy with getting the rollerblades off after he'd winded himself quite terribly in the tumble.
Snape of course did nothing to address the very clear hectoring, and Slughorn had finally lost his battle with the wine, only his plum shoes sticking out from below a table like a rotund replacement for the Wicked Witch of the East.
When Audette stood again she was already unimpressed with her boyfriend, only to find that he was actively entertaining two beautiful Beauxbatons girls who'd strode up to the Slytherin boys while she was busy with Noir.
"With a paintbrush, are you too destitute to afford a quill? You know there's plenty of ravens in the courtyard ready for the plucking," Draco was obnoxiously gaping down at a paint brush that he'd just been handed by one of the sightly girls.
The girl on the left hung her head sideways coquettishly, "We would not want you to uh, cut up our skin. Right 'ere, dat is where I want et." She pointed to the top of her bosom where she'd pulled down her pretty collared blue dress.
Draco snorted to his friends briefly before raising his eyebrows and leaning close to the girl. The magical paintbrush left inexplicable ink behind where he was spelling his autograph, gold and glittering in the morbid candle light.
"And just what do you think you are doing!" Audette marched over so fast that no one had a moment to react before she'd slapped the paint brush high into the air, right as he'd completed the y in Malfoy. The brute action left a funny squiggle from the bottom of the letter.
The two girls backed away, but giggling to each other in triumph all the same.
"Cool your jets Wonderland, she's just a fan," Draco put his hand on her shoulder, pointing his eyebrows together as if she was about to psychotically push the big red button in a control room and send a nuke onto his house just for breathing the wrong way.
"What a cool tattoo et will make, premier champion," the girl batted her eyes at Draco with such lusty flirtation that it was a miracle Audette didn't jam her wand into one them.
"OH-kay you feckin slags," Guy pushed forward between a field of boys defensively, waving his baby pink finger nails in the Beauxbatons students' faces, "Have I lost my marbles, or was that a Piggy's Permanent Paintbrush?"
He huffed in place enthusiastically, propping his hands on his hips while searching the floor for the tool in question.
Okay. Now Audette desired to inflict serious harm.
"Permanent?" she fumed at Draco through barred teeth, in such a demonic tone that even he craned away. She physically grabbed his hand and threw it back at his face, then spun on the French female who could not be more than fifteen and childishly unassuming.
Audette was tiny and dressed like an adorable doll, but her peridot eyes were likely the pH of acid, "I will carve your skin clean off the bone if you don't find a way to remove that marking, you dime-a-dozen guttersnipe."
The girls gasped in horror, swiftly beginning to move off while muttering oh mon dieu, and elle est folle.
"Audette, get a fucking grip," Draco tried to pull her sleeve backwards but Audette merely slapped his grab off without tearing away her thorny glower.
Perhaps the young foreign teens had not known Draco Malfoy had a possessive girlfriend, although it would require a certain degree of imbecilic negligence given the broadcast events of the second trial.
It was a truly revolting thing to say, so revolting in fact that the sentence finally garnered attention from Snape; who looked as though he was floating across the floor like a graveyard ghoul risen from the dead.
He positively towered over her with a rancid sneer which could very well freeze alcohol, stiffly pointing a long black nail at the bolted egress, "Miss Bellarose, mind your sharp tongue and your cardinal representation. One could only imagine what your father would think should he witness such foul rhetoric. Perhaps...you had best...remove...your uncontrollable self from the current setting. To the dormitory."
"I'll escort her," Draco stated in a dry tone, a flat frown on his face as he slid his darling blue eyes disapprovingly to Audette.
There was no reality in which Audette wished to immediately speak to him after he'd done such a stupid thing. Now, another female would be walking around their school for months - and conceivably for the rest of her life - with his last name on her chest of all places.
"No. I'd much rather Guy," she bitterly snapped and made a face at her spoony boyfriend, latching onto Cosmos' bony wrist before he could object.
Cosmos was not a proper escort in any format seeing as he was neither staff nor prefect, nor sober, as he'd been micro-dosing on questionable mushrooms all afternoon, but Snape allowed them to leave nonetheless.
Probably in the hopes that the atomic bomb would take itself elsewhere to detonate out of range.
They were off into the castle, hours after the school wide curfew with no chaperone - a raging Audette leading the way with zero plans to go to bed whatsoever.