Hello, Darkness Chapter 4: Second Interlude
Chapter Four
"Must you smoke those things in here?"
Remus rolled his eyes, inhaled, shook out the match, and calmly held his breath. Werewolf lung capacity was such that by the time he let it out, carefully exhaling away from Sirius, there wasn't that much smoke left anyway.
He took the handrolled cigarette out of his mouth, tapped it on the ashtray where he'd deposited the still-smoking matchstick, and sipped his tonic water, against the burning in his throat.
"Listen," he said, "Sirius, please do listen carefully, as I'm sure we've been over this. If you're getting plastered, and James is getting plastered, and Peter is getting plastered, and I cannot get plastered as -- "
" -- alcohol has little to no effect on the werewolf metabolism -- " they all chimed in with him.
" -- a little louder please, I'm not sure everyone in the pub heard you -- then I think I might be allowed a smoke," he finished. "Or possibly even two."
"Filthy Muggle habit," James muttered.
"I learned it from Lily," Remus smiled sweetly.
"You never did," James shot back. "Besides, she's quit."
Remus inhaled again, and exhaled quicker this time, blowing the smoke out his nostrils, looking vaguely like an overworked dragon.
"Well done her," Sirius said grudgingly. "So are you saying, fiend," he continued, to Remus, "that if you could get drunk, you wouldn't smoke?"
"I'm not going to down an entire bottle of firewhiskey in a single go just so I can be ill for an hour, it's too expensive -- and no, Sirius, I'm not going to let you buy me the bottle, either. I only smoke when you drink," Remus pointed out.
Just so long as I'm indulging in something, he thought, otherwise you're going to blame me again.
"Here, remember us trying to get you drunk, that one time?" James asked with a grin, as he sipped his second firewhiskey. Peter, still nursing his first, choked and laughed. Remus rolled his eyes. Sirius blushed red, still, after almost seven years.
"If I recall, and I reckon my memory of that particular event is the best of the four of us, it was us trying to get us drunk," Remus replied. "I do believe Peter had the first helping, the first real one, anyway, and you're the one who nicked it."
"Well, do as one sees, that's the only way to learn," James replied imperturbably. Remus leaned forward.
"D'you know," he said, "I heard from Regulus -- "
"You've spoken to Regulus?" Sirius asked, surprised. Remus glanced at him.
"We talk," he said noncommittally. "I tutored him for two years, Sirius, he asks my advice sometimes."
"Never quite forgave you that," Sirius replied, over his drink. "Should have let the bastard fail."
"This was back a while, anyway. The point is, I heard that the Slytherin head of house made them all sign temperance oaths in their fourth year," Remus continued patiently. "No sex, no alcohol, nothing...else. For as long as they were in school."
Sirius nodded. "Narcissa used to whine about it. Bellatrix used to do something about it..."
They shared a moment of quiet contemplation on Bellatrix Black; three of them still wondering if they'd ever have had a chance with her, one of them disgusted that the other three were thinking that about his cousin.
"One more reason to get plastered," Peter announced.
"Must you smoke those things in here?"
Remus rolled his eyes, inhaled, shook out the match, and calmly held his breath. Werewolf lung capacity was such that by the time he let it out, carefully exhaling away from Sirius, there wasn't that much smoke left anyway.
He took the handrolled cigarette out of his mouth, tapped it on the ashtray where he'd deposited the still-smoking matchstick, and sipped his tonic water, against the burning in his throat.
"Listen," he said, "Sirius, please do listen carefully, as I'm sure we've been over this. If you're getting plastered, and James is getting plastered, and Peter is getting plastered, and I cannot get plastered as -- "
" -- alcohol has little to no effect on the werewolf metabolism -- " they all chimed in with him.
" -- a little louder please, I'm not sure everyone in the pub heard you -- then I think I might be allowed a smoke," he finished. "Or possibly even two."
"Filthy Muggle habit," James muttered.
"I learned it from Lily," Remus smiled sweetly.
"You never did," James shot back. "Besides, she's quit."
Remus inhaled again, and exhaled quicker this time, blowing the smoke out his nostrils, looking vaguely like an overworked dragon.
"Well done her," Sirius said grudgingly. "So are you saying, fiend," he continued, to Remus, "that if you could get drunk, you wouldn't smoke?"
"I'm not going to down an entire bottle of firewhiskey in a single go just so I can be ill for an hour, it's too expensive -- and no, Sirius, I'm not going to let you buy me the bottle, either. I only smoke when you drink," Remus pointed out.
Just so long as I'm indulging in something, he thought, otherwise you're going to blame me again.
"Here, remember us trying to get you drunk, that one time?" James asked with a grin, as he sipped his second firewhiskey. Peter, still nursing his first, choked and laughed. Remus rolled his eyes. Sirius blushed red, still, after almost seven years.
"If I recall, and I reckon my memory of that particular event is the best of the four of us, it was us trying to get us drunk," Remus replied. "I do believe Peter had the first helping, the first real one, anyway, and you're the one who nicked it."
"Well, do as one sees, that's the only way to learn," James replied imperturbably. Remus leaned forward.
"D'you know," he said, "I heard from Regulus -- "
"You've spoken to Regulus?" Sirius asked, surprised. Remus glanced at him.
"We talk," he said noncommittally. "I tutored him for two years, Sirius, he asks my advice sometimes."
"Never quite forgave you that," Sirius replied, over his drink. "Should have let the bastard fail."
"This was back a while, anyway. The point is, I heard that the Slytherin head of house made them all sign temperance oaths in their fourth year," Remus continued patiently. "No sex, no alcohol, nothing...else. For as long as they were in school."
Sirius nodded. "Narcissa used to whine about it. Bellatrix used to do something about it..."
They shared a moment of quiet contemplation on Bellatrix Black; three of them still wondering if they'd ever have had a chance with her, one of them disgusted that the other three were thinking that about his cousin.
"One more reason to get plastered," Peter announced.