He was surprisingly easy to find, the bulky blonde with the terrible reputation. Alice had always been resourceful, and the secrets of the castle and it's inhabitants were practically open books for her to read, but finding Aid was exceptionally easy. An apparent altercation with his ex in the library had sent him shooting off into the depths of the castle, nowhere to be found. But Alice had learned long ago that, like a ripple in the water, rumours did a wonderful job of creating a trail after a person, and his was quite easy to pick up. Following the whispers and furtive stares had lead her down into the bowels of the castle, far past the deepest she'd ever made it on her own before.
The dungeons were dark, and moisture hung in the air, tense and deep. It would have been a lie to say Alice wasn't absolutely terrified. The dungeons were one of her least favourite places in the castle, closed in and spiralling deep into the earth. She much preferred the wide open airiness of the towers, was more at home with falling through the air than suffocating in the low light and stale air. And yet here she was, facing it without a second thought, and all to find a man accused of beating his girlfriend. What for? To prove something stupid to James? To exercise her freedom. She didn't even know any more, but she was a woman on a mission, and nothing could stop her.
Aid, on the other hand, was spiralling again. Without a plan or a course of action, he had fled to the dungeons. It was the only place he really felt like he could escape it all, deep under the ground. Sometimes he could close his eyes and pretend he was drowning somewhere in the lake, and that all of his problems would be over soon. Whatever it was that had just blown up between him and Atalia, it had only made things worse. They were already whispering about him again, the bloody rumour spreading bastards that did nothing but stare and gossip about him. By morning he'd have reached a whole new low. After all, rumours were one thing, but a live demonstration of a temper flying off the handle was something else entirely.
A million thoughts, a million actions flowed through his head, and he didn't know what he wanted to do more, slam his fist into the stones of the wall or slide down them until he was balled on the floor. Surely the first wouldn't help his already bruised and bloody knuckles, but loosing the rage building up inside of him would be a blissful release. The second would be peaceful, but deep inside he didn't truly know if he would be able to get up again after ward. As he turned to make a snap decision, a figure in the low firelight caught his eye and distracted him. She was tall and thin, all legs, with long blonde hair and brown eyes and- and a face recognized. What the hell was Alice Longbottom doing in the dungeons.
"Not really shocking, seeing how I'm a Slytherin and my common room is actually down here. You on the other hand..." He let the words trail off and turned away from her.
She shrugged and took a few more steps toward him, slipping into the cell where he had surely been hiding and leaning against the opposite wall. "I fancied a late night stroll."
"That just so happened to take you down into the dungeons?" He seemed skeptical, and for all the right reasons.
Alice bit back a smile, knowing any positive emotion she showed would cause problems, but she couldn't help but feel a tingle of satisfaction that he was playing right into her hands. As a matter of fact, the whole situation was laying itself out right in from of her, easier and more glorious than even she could have planned it.
"Actually, I had an ulterior motive."
Aid said nothing, but turned back to her, arms crossed over his chest. Alice took that as permission to continue.
"I need to prove a point to someone, and you look like you need a distraction, so I was thinking we could shag."
It was straight to the point, and not at all what Aid had expected to come out of her mouth. Of course, he'd heard stories about Alice Longbottom and her mountain of conquests before. But never in a million years had he thought she'd be this forward about it. He wasn't going to lie, the idea was appealing. Not only would it goad Atalia. but it would also do a stellar job toward pissing off the eldest Potter boy. This was his best mate, after all.
"I can't imagine Potter is too happy about this. You're his... whatever, and I hit women."
She almost groaned out loud. "Screw him. The bastard doesn't get a say in who I shag. I'm my own person, I make my own choices. And since when have any of the rumours in this castle ever been right?"
The taller blonde raised one eyebrow. Sounded like she had someone she wanted to piss off too. It wasn't a terrible idea. And she almost sounded like she didn't believe Atalia's lies. Whether it was true or a clever manipulation, he almost didn't care.
Staring intently at him, Alice could see Aid weighing all the pros and cons carefully. She could also pinpoint the exact moment where he threw caution to the wind and stepped forward, grabbing her waist and pulling her to him until their bodies were flush together. He was surprisingly gentle when he slanted his mouth over her own, but before long the kiss was hot and passionate, driving any and all thought beside pleasure and James out of her head.
Grasping her arse, he lifted her off the ground and into a far better position for what they intended to do. On instinct, she wrapped her legs around his waist, bracing herself on his muscular body. He only stumbled slightly before whirling around, looking for something to stabilize them before they careened to the ground. The wall was a few metres away, but was the best option the had, so he headed them in that direction, never breaking the kiss. Momentum took over after the first step, sending them slamming into the wall.
Alice's back connected with the stones hard, and she cried out in pain, sucking air in.
"Fuck, I'm so sorry." Aid pulled back, staring at her in his arms.
"Fuck it. Keep going, I'm fine."
It was a heady combination, the pleasure and the pain, and the anger and hurt. It hooked them together, spurring them on a driving them toward the edge of a cliff. Neither had a single thought of the other in their minds, lost instead in far away worlds filled with other people, and other times.
Alice's nimble fingers had freed Aid from his button up, and were now working on tugging her own over her head. Sight lost in white cotton, she felt her fist connect with flesh, and heard a hiss of pained breath. As soon as she had flung her shirt away, she turned back to him.
"Now we're even." He growled into her ear, then pressed a hot kiss to her neck.
The pleasure and blunt satisfaction reared their twin heads then, and the two lost themselves in the rhythms of a very familiar dance.
...
An hour later, Aid was back in the Slytherin common room, head held high. Alice, meanwhile, was slinking out of the dungeons. and making her way toward the kitchens. Her back smarted, and she knew there was going to be a bruise in the morning, but she really couldn't bring herself to care. She had been right, and James wrong, and if she had been thinking about him and her anger for him while her vision filled with stars it was her business.
The familiar fruit bowl painting had come and passed, and she continued to walk along, feeling weight lifting off her shoulders with every step. She was going to need a bruise cream from Fred or Frank for the morning, but until she could get rid of it she planned to carry it like a battle scar. She had wrestled with a monster and won. Though had he really been a monster? No. Maybe the monster was really her own pride, and James', duelling and driving her to do reckless, petty things.
A tiny Hufflepuff sat in the hallway outside the common room entrance. Alice crouched down beside him and smiled kindly. "Hi love, can you grab Fred Weasley for me?"
The young boy nodded and was gone in a moment, leaving Alice alone with her thoughts again. Inevitably, the drifted back to James, and their fight. Cleaning this one up was going to be hard, but she had come away unscathed.
Fred appearing pulled her from her thoughts, and she quickly told him what she needed, leaving out how she had gotten the bruises. She knew Fred could sense a story, and to his credit he tried to pry it out of her, but Alice was staying quiet.
Finally, bruise cream in hand, Alice headed back to Ravenclaw Tower with a bounce in her step and, for the first time since she had parted from James, a small hopeful smile on her face.
