Argh… so.. I know I've been pretty awful with this… I had to leave for a couple of months for a job I got (ok.. so I was working abroad which did make it seem so much better, but where the hell did my summer vacation go? Now I'm back in school and I didn't even get to finish all the stories I had planned…)

By the way, thank you for all the reviews I got (on my one shot and on the other started story – I promise I'll post some new chapters for that one too!)

Anyway, you know the drill, I own nothing. Well, I do have a shoe I live in… No, wait, I don't own that one either…

Enjoy this story/songfic? I guess…

d(.)b

"A Beautiful Mess"

You've got the best of both worlds

You're the kind of guy who can take down a man,

And lift him back up again

"Look, they're here."

"What's with the ties?"

"Hey, look, that one brought a date with him again…"

"Ew… why would he bring a ginger date?"

"Hey! Watch your mouth!"

"Watch out Ronald, maybe you're next…"

"Git!"

The gathering of twenty something year olds burst out laughing, collapsing one against the other in a fit of uninhibited amusement, the beers and various drinks having clearly had their effect.

It was Thursday night, and as per usual, the select few that made up the Godric Frat House were out for a night on the town, starting with a few pints downed at the Hog's Head, a local student watering hole, located smack right in the middle of campus.

All the other students crowding the pub also attended the Hogwarts University of Applied Studies. The school was meant for students who wanted a more hands on experience in their journey to learning and joining the workforce. All sorts of courses were available, and kids from all around the country –and even from abroad- often came to study there. The school was located in a rather out of the way town, a few hours from London, England. It was mostly a student town, with a few families, couples and retirees.

The students of Hogwarts, despite their wide variety of majors, were well integrated with one another, and the dean was a friendly old man who liked to promote group sports and campus events.

Just like in any other university, one had the possibility of joining not just a sports team, but also different clubs, associations, councils, and, of course, a frat house or sorority. None of these were obligatory; in fact, some of them were rather hard to get into and had quite the reputation.

Godric's Boys was one of the most envied frat houses around campus. The members were known to be handsome, brilliant at sports, witty, daring, and, most importantly, always up for a good time or a good challenge.

This year, only five new recruits had been hand-picked out of the hundreds of new arrivals. A month into the start of classes and they were already joined at the hips. When you spotted one, the other four were never far behind.

Gathered around a small wooden table in the corner, the five were currently nursing their third pints and having a good laugh.

There was Neville Longbottom, a brown-haired brown-eyed boy whose face sometimes looked a little too innocent, especially with his bad habit of widening his eyes at every spoken word. He was of an average height, with a stockyness about him that he sometimes carried awkwardly but which disappeared whenever he stepped out onto the rugby pitch. He was a gentle soul really, his friends liked to joke, and they had especially teased him after they had discovered his flat was invaded with rescued potted plants.

To Neville's left was a sandy-haired and slightly taller male, who spoke energetically, punctuating every sentence he spoke in that Irish accent of his with a violent thump of his mug against the table. Seamus Finnigan was as cocky and loud-mouthed as any good-looking Irish lad ought to be, his mother often said. And she could not have spoken truer words. He kept his hair short and his eyes were a light brown, often twinkling as he laid out his next prank plan or shared some sort of dirty story with the rest of the group. He was a bit clumsy, and often caused ruckus, but his ability to recognize his own faults and have a good laugh about them made him easy to forgive.

On the right side of Neville, the tallest and lankiest of the group had opted to stand up and lean against the wall rather than sit. He claimed his legs couldn't fit under the table, but Seamus had pointed out that he was just trying to show off for the ladies. But why exactly shouldn't he show off? Hey, you know the saying, if you have the goods, advertise them. No? Dean Thomas was the artist of the group. With dark-skin, black eyes and long limbs to match his swanky demeanor, he had no trouble getting a date. Sadly, he often preferred to stay home and work on some project or go out with the boys than to 'get himself a girl and get laid for fuck's sake', as Seamus so gallantly phrased it.

On Seamus' left, his face slowly returning to a normal shade after his brief outburst was Ronald Weasley, commonly introduced as 'Ron' –except perhaps by his mother, but she's hardly the focus of our attention for the moment. Ron was a gangly red-head, not quite as tall as Dean, but definitely above average. He had wider shoulders though, and had filled in quite nicely from years of football and water polo. His freckles and baby blue eyes were his best attributes, his sister used to tease him, and if only he learned to keep his mouth shut he might get himself a girlfriend, she always added. He did have a tendency to get carried away, and easily misinterpreted what others said to him. Despite not being the studious type, he was actually quite clever, seeing windows where others saw closed doors.

Last but not least, in the spot between Dean and Ron, casually balancing on the two back legs of his chair was the fifth member of the new batch of Godric frat boys. He was of average height and muscular, toned from the years of practicing various sports. His skin still had that summer's tan, betraying his job had been outdoors. His hair was… Well, his hair was a mess. Shaggy black locks curling around his green eyes and sticking up in every direction. Shaggy? Yes, shaggy indeed… Harry Potter, new golden boy of Godric's, always looked just shagged. His modesty made up for it though, and it was hard to envy such a guy. Despite his usually good intentions, he was often impatient and easily provoked and his stubbornness was already legendary throughout the school.

Harry Potter grinned brilliantly as he whispered something to Ron –the whole group may have been closer than a kiss, but those two were practically one and the same.

The current subject of conversation was a certain other close-knit group of males: The Salazar Frat House Boys. Godric and Salazar were rumored to have an unspoken rivalry between the two, and the boys in both groups competed against each other in classes, sport teams and pretty much everything else that made up a student's life at Hogwarts. Why? Perhaps it was because the Salazar boys were just as good-looking, and rumored to be more discreet, less outspoken, more clever and much, much more stylish and classy. They were all from old English noble families, and had an air about them that made them stand out wherever they went.

This year, unlike in Godric, only three new first years had been deemed worthy of being initiated into Salazar's House. The taller than most trio had not been seen socializing much with others yet, and they mostly kept to themselves, silent when they knew they were being eavesdropped on. The Godric Boys had taken it to spying on them, often wondering what the hell made them so bloody special and why they acted so stuffy. They had been in for a surprise when they had realized that the Salazar trio was quite the animated and quick-witted group when they thought they were not being observed.

Theodore Nott was the tallest of the three, and he probably easily surpassed even Dean Thomas, but he had a narrow build and a thin face. He had short blondish hair and hazel eyes, which he never focused on one person for too long. He was seen as the wisest of the three, always stepping in to quietly resolve random conflicts between any students.

Blaise Zabini was the charmer of the group, smooth-talking his way out of any possible situation thrown at him with ease. His good looks were rather helpful in that aspect. He was tall, but not overly so –the smallest of the three- and had the build of an athlete. With high cheekbones, dark skin, and long slanted brown eyes, it was hard to resist agreeing to whatever he said. He flaunted his looks, his bright grin and his money more readily than the others, but still had the elegance to carry it well.

Flanked by the two, smack right in the middle, was Draco Malfoy, easily the prince of the Salazar boys. He was truly of noble blood, and money had been with his family for generations and generations. Not just money either. Class. Style. Power. Draco Malfoy walked around as if he owned the world. In all fairness, that probably wasn't too far off the truth. His platinum blond hair wisped down to a bit below his ears, framing his delicate features perfectly. He had the face of an aristocrat, and his mercury eyes could take down anyone who opposed him. Always well-dressed and well-groomed, he was never seen out in public looking anything but brilliant.

The Salazar boys were leaning against the bar, appreciatively sipping glasses of fine whiskey. Nothing but the best for these boys. Nothing but the best. A rule of thumb they lived by daily.

A few girls had gathered around them, already a bit tipsy and getting too frisky. The trio seemed to be indulging them in with some chatter, mostly just nodding along to whatever they said. Theo was trying to discreetly hide his boredom, looking away from the sorority girls and flickering his gaze around the busy pub, locking eyes with female and male students alike for only seconds at a time. Blaise was the most entertained of his friends at the moment, quite enjoying the proximity and social attentions of the gorgeous third year girls. He spoke in hushed tones, telling jokes and tossing around compliments like candy to a roomful of children. Draco was standing a bit closer than normal to a second year, who belonged to neither the Salazar nor the Godric House. The red headed male had thrown a casual arm around Draco's shoulders, and it was clear by the blonde's cringe and slight wrinkle of his nose that he disapproved of the action.

No matter their current preoccupations, Theodore, Blaise and Draco all kept turning their heads towards the loud group gathered around one of the wooden tables in the corner. Identically, the five Godric boys repeatedly glanced towards the trio at the bar.

Which group would break first and acknowledge the other one was present? Would a challenge be issued? Would a competition follow? Would these first years put behind them the feuds of the past? Or wasn't it much more fun this way?

More coming soon! It's a real promise this time!

Oh, and reviews please! I love to know what I can improve on (probably everything -.-)