A drunk evening
It was nearing midnight, and Peter and Sirius ambled back toward the campfire, their steps unsteady from the effects of alcohol.
"You know who's hot?" Sirius mused, his words slightly slurred.
"Hmm?" Peter replied, his own speech a tad more coherent than Sirius'.
"Me," Sirius declared proudly, prompting laughter from Peter at his friend's unabashed confidence. "Do you know who isn't?" Sirius continued, his tone turning more serious.
"Who?" Peter inquired, amused by where this conversation might lead.
"Regulus. He looks like an ugly drowned cat," Sirius declared, his drunken honesty amusing Peter to no end.
Peter chuckled, finding the comment both unexpected and comical. "I think Regulus is pretty hot," he admitted, a confession he likely wouldn't have made if he were sober.
"I heard that," Sirius retorted, his tone a mix of mock offense and amusement.
"You were supposed to," Peter shot back, his laughter bubbling up again as they continued their tipsy banter.
As they rejoined the group around the campfire, the atmosphere had shifted somewhat, infused with a relaxed energy brought about by the alcohol and the late hour. Many of the campers had brought their own drinks or indulged in a few hits from the blunts circulating the group. James, having given up on regulating the festivities, was now indulging in a few drinks himself, adding to the jovial atmosphere.
"Do you know who really is hot though?" Sirius murmured as they approached the group once more, his gaze fixed on someone in the crowd, though Peter couldn't quite discern who it was.
"Who?" Peter asked, glancing around to see if he could identify Sirius' target.
"That farrier with the scars. Remus. I'd smash," Sirius confessed, his words frank and unfiltered in his inebriated state.
Peter followed Sirius' gaze, spotting Remus amidst the crowd. Bathed in the flickering light of the campfire, Remus did indeed cut a striking figure, his rugged features highlighted by the dancing flames.
"You're staring," Peter pointed out with a grin as he turned to face Sirius.
"No, I'm not. What are you talking about?" Sirius replied quickly, though the slight flush to his cheeks betrayed his attempt at nonchalance.
"Just go talk to him," Peter groaned, feeling a twinge of annoyance at having to play wingman for Sirius. He wasn't about to spend his whole night watching his friend drool over Remus. Sirius shot him a look, a mix of defiance and something Peter couldn't quite decipher yet. To his surprise, Sirius stumbled in Remus' direction, perhaps motivated by the presence of James nearby.
Left to his own devices once again, a situation he disliked when in a group, Peter scanned the surroundings for someone else to interact with. His eyes landed on Alexi, sitting alone with a cigarette and her acoustic guitar. He settled down beside her, receiving a small nod of acknowledgment from her.
She took a long drag of her cigarette before offering Peter the pack. "I don't smoke," he declined politely.
"Good for you, Pete," she mumbled, her attention seemingly elsewhere. "You're doing well in this group, aren't you?"
Peter sensed that Alexi was observant, keenly aware of the dynamics within the group. "Surprisingly well," he agreed, grateful for the compliment.
"Why aren't you with James?" Peter asked, curious about her choice to sit apart from the rest of the staff. The others were all indulging in alcohol to varying degrees, with James and Remus currently taking shots with Sirius, Dorcas chatting with Lily, Mary, and Marlene, and Pandora engaged in an intense conversation with Regulus over glasses of wine.
"Hmm, someone needs to remain sober and watch out for this lot," Alexi replied dryly, her gaze flickering across the group. "I'm probably going to have to drag James back to his house. He gets very drunk very quickly, and I don't want to be intoxicated myself when that happens." Her tone held a hint of resignation, as if she had resigned herself to this duty long ago.
"You're missing two people," Peter remarked after a while, surprised that Alexi's sharp eye hadn't caught the absence of two individuals.
"What do you mean, I'm missi- God damn it." Alexi's reaction was swift, a mixture of annoyance and concern evident in her tone as she realized the situation. "What the fuck. When did those fuckers disappear?"
Peter noted the subtle shift in her demeanor, from irritation to genuine worry. "C'mon, Pete, we're going hunting for junkies." There was an urgency in her voice that compelled him to act. Despite his usual aversion to impromptu adventures, there was something about Alexi that made him feel safe enough to follow her lead.
He rose to his feet and hurried after her, his strides quickening to catch up as she strode purposefully ahead, already several meters ahead of him.
Peter spent about fifteen minutes trailing after Alexi, their path twisting and turning through the darkness until she abruptly halted. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" she asked, pointing toward a faint glow atop a stack of hay bales.
"Oh, I'm seeing it," Peter agreed, squinting to make out the distant light.
Without hesitation, Alexi was already on the move again, scaling the bales with practiced ease. Peter followed suit, albeit less gracefully. When they reached the top, they found Barty and Evan hunched over like two mischievous sprites.
"What are we doing here?" Alexi demanded, shining her flashlight directly into their faces.
"Drugs," Barty replied flatly.
"Damn. How'd you find us?" Evan asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "No one ever looks up," he added, still bewildered by their discovery.
"Well, I did, pretty boy," Alexi retorted, her flashlight illuminating their faces as they hunched over. "If you two follow us now and behave, I will let you off with just a few times preparing breakfast and doing dishes."
Barty's expression twisted into a mix of irritation and amusement, as though Alexi had just insulted his entire family tree. "Everyone is doing shit," he protested, his voice tinged with defiance.
"Everyone is drinking alcohol, only you two are doing shit."
With reluctance, both boys got up, their stances suggesting a mixture of annoyance and resignation. Evan, however, wore a smirk that hinted at something more, something playful.
"Don't you think you could let us off without consequences because we have pretty privilege?" Evan tried, his tone light and teasing as he stepped a little closer. It was at this moment that Peter noticed the subtle glint in Evan's eyes, a glint that suggested more than just mischief.
"I suppose I could let you off," Alexi said, her gaze lingering on Evan for a moment longer than necessary, "but not him," she nodded at Barty, much to Evan's delight. "Oh, I get that. He's a bit ugly."
"Shut the fuck up, Rosier. You know you jerk off to my picture," Barty snapped back, but his tone lacked any real venom, almost as if he were accustomed to Evan's playful jabs.
As Peter edged closer to listen to how Alexi planned on handling this, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Evan's banter than met the eye.
"So, I'm free to go?" Evan smirked, his eyes flickering mischievously as he looked at Alexi.
"Absolutely not. Did you really think that you could bat your eyelashes and get away with it?" Alexi motioned for both troublemakers to follow, but Peter couldn't shake the feeling that Evan's eyes lingered a moment longer.
"How do you handle things like this so easily?" Peter asked as they all made their way down the stack of hay bales again, his curiosity piqued by the dynamic between Evan and Alexi.
"I don't really know. I just do," Alexi admitted, her tone tinged with a hint of mystery.
The four of them made their way back to the rest without any further problems. When they reached the group, Peter glanced around for Sirius. When he found him, his jaw dropped. "What the fuck."