The A- Z Of Remus And Sirius
A is for Alcohol
Alcohol, taken in sufficient quantities, produces all the effects of intoxication.
-Oscar Wilde
You're not drunk if you can lie on the floor without holding on.
-Dean Martin
Sirius Black was gloriously drunk. Lying on his stomach in front of the fire, basking, his head cradled in his arms, his feet kicked up in the air and Remus Lupin curled up beside him. Bliss.
"You happy, Moony?"
"Yeah…" Remus said sleepily. The firewhisky was warm and tingly in his stomach and Sirius's body, also very warm, was pressed up against his left side. "Yeah… I'm happy."
Sirius glanced around the Gryffindor common room. James was snoring in the nearest armchair: other than that it was deserted. Sirius reached for the firewhisky bottle - for Dutch courage - and drained it. "S'all empty, Moony," he said.
Remus gave a great sigh that seemed to reverberate through the room and through Sirius' own body. "No more whisky," he mumbled. "Not a drop…" He turned to Sirius and gave him a sleepy smile, angling his head upwards so that Sirius could gain maximum appreciation.
And Sirius was awestruck. Dumb with drink he couldn't say what he really felt, something about fallen angels and statues of Apollo and hair that glowed like liquid gold in the firelight. In fact, his wits were so muddled that it took quite a while for him to say anything at all. "You're real pretty, Moony," he eventually managed.
But Remus didn't reply. He was sleeping by then; his liquid-gold hair had fallen halfway across his face and a tiny drop of spittle had formed on his chin.
"Yeah," Sirius murmured. "Pretty…"