screw them, we don't need no loving

Iris walked into the thumping of the music, the flashing lights and the rolling of alcohol. But she wasn't here to drink tonight. No, she was here to dance till she forgot pretty much everything.

Though alcohol was not an option, that didn't stop her downing two glasses of Butterbeer. Of course, at some point, she was just tempted to grab the bottles of Firewhiskey and vodka and just run away with the treasures. Yet, she managed to keep her ground.

Finally making her way to the dance floor, she grinned to herself as a new song played and she moved in sync with the tunes.

Dancing and clubs. What was with people and dancing, clubs, fucking each other and getting pissed?

Devyn had grown more mature ever since she was appointed to her position in the Ministry. Usually, she would be one of the partying bitches on the dance floor, especially if Tremlett was invited, but now she found it rather repulsive. She entered along with a colleague of hers - Stebbins, right? - and he had left to flirt with some whore he saw from the entrance.

"Am I the only mature one here?" muttered the ex-Slytherin, making her way towards the bar. "Vodka on the rocks," she snapped, tossing a couple of Sickles across the table. "Keep the change."

Finally after a couple of hours of dancing, Iris made her way to the bar. Tying her hair up into a bun since it was irritating her, she made her way to the bar counter.

Ever since the incident with Alec, she had decided to stay away from the alcohol, though the thought did always make her amused. She ordered two glasses of Butterbeers, and downed the first one in one go. Having paid the bartender for both the drinks, she took the second glass and heard someone mutter something next to her.

"Yeah, I think you are the only mature one here," she remarked to the woman with a smirk. "So what are you doing here then?"

"By the name of Morgana, what is Devyn doing here?" snapped Devyn, who constantly sounded angry even if she wasn't. If she wasn't angry, however, she was irritated. It was one or the other. Never neither; she had the temper the size of the sun. Her parents had told her to look at herself and try and be a nicer person but being nice sucks.

Or so she thought it does.

The shot of vodka was placed right where Devyn can just swoop it up and down it in one gulp, and so she did, and right in front of the new girl too.

"I just finished work, and work sucked shit, so I decided to hit this place in hope of having some fun... but no, it's never that fun in a club anymore," added the elder blonde resentfully, "and anyway... aren't you a little young to drink?"

Iris stared at the woman in amusement, wondering she was asking the question to herself or to the Gryffindor. She was used to strangers snapping at her in anger, though usually she had to do or something to get in trouble for that to happen.

She was least bothered though, if the woman continued to annoy her, she would repay the favour. In a way that was more drastic and entertaining for the younger blonde.

"Work was shit? Oh cool, just like school is pretty much shit everyday," she remarked and shook her head. "How come it isn't that fun in a club?! It's always fun! There's dancing, drinking, music, what more could you want? Not to mention, it's a good place to forget things."

Raising an eyebrow, she laughed. "I'm too young to drink Butterbeer? What, they changed the law or something?"

The Ministry journalist rolled her eyes before she ordered another shot of firewhiskey. "You're young, and thank Merlin for that!" she proclaimed, but it wasn't to anyone in particular, "if you become someone like me, you'll realize how stupid you were at this age."

Truth be told, when she was around fifteen, that was when she got into the partying scene. Merlin, they were wild, those parties. She shared her party with the Ravenclaw she knew and secretly loved, Tremlett. They clicked over a bottle of firewhiskey and ended the night by snogging in the broom closet.

Ah, good times.

"I don't know, I don't make the laws!" growled Devyn, obviously pissed. "They don't tell me much, you know."