1995-04-20: Drunk in Hogwarts

Participants:

Fred_icon.gif Neville_icon.gif

Scene Title Drunk in Hogwarts
Synopsis Fred and Neville sup butterbeer and sneak to the kitchens.
Location Hogwarts
Date April 20th, 1995
Watch For Neville being tipsy.
Logger Neville

Sitting right outside the common rooms is Fred Weasley. Red hair it's normal mess, potion book in one hand, charms book on the step beside him. He runs a hand through the messy hair and tries to concentrate on the book as a few firsties step over his tall form.

Neville is climbing out of the portrait, fumbling to keep bottled butterbeer in each hand from spilling. He is swigging one, his eyes a bit unfocused as he leans out of the way of the first years as they enter the commonroom. "/You/," he mumbles, voice blurry as he spies the back head of red hair. "Ron?" he wonders. "No— George. Percy?" Neville is a bit gone. Another swig is taken.

Fred looks up at NEville a tad bit a surprise showing on his face, "Fred you blimy idiot. What are you doing to yourself and why didn't you invite me?" He asks then bites his lip to not laugh at the younger boy.

"M'not Fred," Neville says, sounding confused. "You're George?" He waddles forward, sitting on the stairs next to Fred in a slump. "Which blasted Weasley are you?"

Fred reaches out to knock Neville upside the head lightly, "No I'm Fred you git." He closes the potions book and sets it aside. Sure people are going past but Fred sure ain't moving, "And you're Nevler mate. Never forget that at least." He shakes his head and asks, "So what is this all about?"

"Fred!" Neville exclaims, tilting the left-handed bottle to him as if toasting. He tips it up to sip. He coughs a little at the head-knock. "/Fred/," Neville realizes, slitting his eyes and ignoring the question. "You blimey bastard!" It's not said very meanly, but Neville does glare at the Weasley. "Kissin' your brother's bird. Shame, mate! Shame." This time the swig is much longer.

Fred starts to chuckle and steals the other butter beer Neville was carrying. Fred takes a swig of it without asking and then leans back against the wall, "Bloody hell mate. You gonna yell at me to?" He looks towards Neville again, "Yeah I'm a right arse but couldn't help it, she starts argueing with me and I just love her when she's angry." He chuckles and knocks his head against the wall, "Next time don't storm out on me like that, a guy needs his back up."

Neville yelps "Hey!" as his butterbeer is stolen, but he doesn't make to get it back. He instead keeps drinking his. "I don't really know. I guess I really like Angelina too so… see why y'would." He smacks his lips and closes his eyes. "Erf. Yeah. Sorry over that, mate."

Fred almost spits out his butter beer as NEville tells him he likes Angie, "What you got a thing for Angie too? What is it about that damn lady?" He shrugs and shaking his head points to the books, "So you have any plants that'll work in a spell to keep tired people awake? Nia was talkign about it and I um sort of wanna surprise he with something." He says the last part a little to quickly, "But yeah, no more storming off Nev, you make me worry bout you mate." He slaps the boy on his back a little to hard probolly.

"What? No! 'Course not," Neville mumbles, losing the spunk from his voice. "Nia?" he 'hmms' quietly, looking at Fred. After another few tastes of his butterbeer he finally manages to say "No use worryin' over me. You're daft."

Fred chuckles and takes a long swig of the butter beer, "Yeah asked Nia out today. Figured it would make Angie happier, but instead she just gets mad aat me about it and I have to tell her all about my bloody feelings." He takes another swing and asks, "Wanna raid the kitchen for some more butter beer? I feel a need for some myself." He chuckles and nudges Neville with his elbow, "And no you don't get off that easy Nev, you're a good guy, I gotta worry bout you. Don't wanna see any death eaters or girls for that matter get ya."

Neville blinks sluggishly. "I've had three already," he says, holding up all his fingers anyways. "So yeah, a' righ'." He resturns the elbow and gets up, trying to brush himself off with both hands, but the bottle lets fly his butterbeer all over him. "Hrr," he comments to the wet spots all over his uniform sweater vest. "She hasn't killed me yet, 'as she?" Without waitinf to explain, Neville starts plunking down the steps without looking back.

Fred scrambles up after Neville and heads after the boy, "Wait, what?" He asks as he trots after him, "Who's killing who?" The twin shakes his head and says, "Maybe we ought to get you a new sweater mate? The house elves might take offense. They're already mad I threatened to give them socks." He does chuckles at this however and reaches for Neville's arm, "How bout we just head back to common room, you can help me with this bloody idea from Nia."

Neville is slow to respond. "Bell—" he starts, then looking to his sweater, distracted. "Nah, m'gonna go to the kitchen. Get some more butterbeer. Maybe even a pie. You want a pie, Red? Fred! Your hair is red. It's really orange though, isn't it?"

Fred is ready to tear hair out be it NEville or his, who knows, "Oh come on, you're acting like a house elf young man." He jests and chuckles lightly, "Bell…whowhatwherehow?" He jumbles the words together and then shrugs, "You know what Nevler, that's your. But yeah a pie sounds nice. You know how to get down there?"

"/La/," Neville corrects himself. He doesn't skip a beat, bouncing down the steps. "Nope," he says, sounding chipper. He turns slightly, stopping to look at Fred. "That's why I need you. Well?" Neville motions his arm widely for Fred to follow.

Fred rolls his eyes and picking up his 6'3" form starts to skip, yes skip, down the stairway after Nevler, "Yeah, yeah, off we go." He holds out his arm, you know just in case Neville wants to skip to, "But know you'll know a Weasley twin secret, and are sworn to secretcy punishable by death." He says this in a very stern voice and is obviously trying not to laugh.

Neville teeters a bit as he bumps his shoulder against the wall of the curved stairwell. "Call me Neville Weasley, woncher mate? It's fittin' an' everythin'." He chuckles to himself before starting to sing a sloshy wizard drinking song. "Drink to me, ol' boys, ol' boys! Brooms an' wands hoist in the air! Ol' boys, ol' boys. Drink to me!"

Fred bursts into a fit of laugher and has to stop walking as he bends over to try and breath again, "Neville Weasley. I like the sound of that mate! Me mom could always use a seventh son." He wipes some tear from his eyes as he starts to join in on Neville tune. Fred doesn't know what time it is but hopefulyl Filch isn't out and about right now.

"Through hex an' plight I'll drink my weight! Drink to me ol' boys!" Neville lifts his butterbeer, waving it wildly. "Fill my glass up, don' let it dry! I'll be a ghost 'for I sober. Drink to me!" He stumbles a bit on the stairs, but catches himself on the landing to the floor.

Fred watches Neville a little worried now, "You aren't gonna pass out on me are ya?" He frowns and adds, "Cause I already had to carry a girl down the hall today once. No more carry people today please." He puts a mock sense of pleading in his voice and hurry after NEvler as he sees him stumble and laughs again, "Oh mate, you're bloody smashed."

Neville reaches out, grabbing at Fred's shirt for balance. "Didn't make it to dinner, mate. Was in the greenhouse. Which way to… Nia? /Really/?" he wants to know suddenly, straightening as best as he can to look Fred in the eye. He's a bit shorter than Fred, so his head is tipped up dramatically.

Fred ohs and is a little caught by this sudden change in the Nevler, "Well yeah…she got banged up good practicing quidditch so carried her to hospital wing…um sort of asked her out. You know to…yeah she's is really nice." Not Angie but then nothing can compare in Fred Weasley's mind, he's working on that, "Yeah told Angie and got in major troible, girls are confusing."

"Maybe Angie like's ya," Neville suggests, looking about. He starts to walk down another staircase. "Maybe she got jealous or something. I mean… you look just like her boyfriend, don't you?"

Fred nods his head, "Well yeah we are identical Neville. I tend to look like him." He shakes his head at the implications though, "No she's got it bad for George, just likes parts of me to. Can't have both though. Twins mean you have to pick and I'm not getting George anymore pissed at me."

Neville shrugs, shaking his head. "Then you have me. Maybe she thought you just asked Nia to appease her." Perhaps wisdom nuggets are coated within the drunken husk of Neville Longbottom. "Where the bloody hell are we going?" he demands, nearly running into a suit of armor.

Fred shrugs, "As I said Girls are nuts. Nia seems straightforward though, she going go on a date with her and see how it goes." He chimes a little happily, "Oh trust me Nevler, I know the castle better then anyone currently here." He winks and ruffles his hair before taking a left and stopping in front of two sets of armor.

Neville grumbles at the hair ruffle. "Hrf. C'mon. M'starvin'. I want a bally cherry pie. That's m'favorite." He stops behind Fred, craning his neck. "That's it, then?"

Fred points to the bricks on the wall and counts outloud, "1, 2, 3 left and 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 down. Then tap your wand and say Fizzybottom and there you go." He holds his hand out to the wall like Vanna White as the bricks start to move and open up to a stairway leading downwards.

Neville eyes the wall, looking suspicious. He drains his bottle. Hic. "Wooow," he draws out, grinning. "Brill, Fred! You first. Those house elves know you, I bet."

Fred chuckles at Neville's response, "I know it's the best thing me and George ever found I swear it." He starts forward down the steps first and grins wickedly the whole time, "Just don't threaten the house elves with socks and they will love you. They always want to make stuff for wizards. Ingrained in them or something."

"Don't mention socks, gotacha," Neville notes to himself. He follows in, looking around eagerly. "I'll take some pumpkin cookies an' stuffed pecan cakes an'… the cherry pie, o'course. More butterbeer!" Neville bellows happily.

Fred nods to Neville, "No socks." As they hit the bottom of the stairs it opens up into a a long hall where dozens upon dozens of house elves work. At Neville boaming voice the nearest one makes a squek noise and Fred shakes his head, "No you have gotta ask nice and polite NEville like this." He clears his throat, "Evening everyone." He says loudly, "It ever so nice to see you all again. This here is my friend Neville Longbottom." He points to indicate Nevler, "We were just wondering if you might have some extra items for some hungry students?"

Neville doesn't seem too bothered by his scolding. He instead wiggles his fingers, grinning sloppily. "'Lo!" he says happily. "I like your apron, mate," he says to a short, squattish elf by the ovens. "I'd be partial for butterbeer, of course."

Fred nods encouraging to Neville, "And yeah my friend would indeed enjoy some butter beer please and thank you." One of the house elves is then off in a scramble and two more follow him, including the one with the apron who just smiles to Neville. Fred turns to him, "See you just gotta keep it nice and pleasant and they love you. Haven't ratted me and George out all these years."

"An' cherry pie, an'…" Neville's off to the side already, chatting up a house elf with all his favorite things. "Good blokes," the fourth year says to Fred. "Would have been handy to know all these years. Ah, well. Got a few more to enjoy it." He relieves his empty butterbeer bottle to an elf, only for it to be replaced by a new, bigger one. "You lot are brilliant!"

Fred grabs a butter beer himself and grinning he takes a swig of it. "Well you see I figure after next year someone has to know. Then you have to tell someone and there always needs to be a Gryffin with access. Only makes sense to throw a good house party." He swigs the butter beer again and sits down on the counter with his feet dangling down, "Feeling any better Nevler?"

Neville looks suddenly excited. "/This/ is how you get the butterbeer barrels up after quidditch games. An' all the rest of the tuck, for that matter." He seems impressed, reaching to pat Fred heartedly on the shoulder. "Better?" the boy asks, halfway paying attention. "From what?"

Fred nods his head to Neville, "Exactly…you see why we need someone to know." He grins and crosses his arms across his chest, "Well you just seemed a bit down mate. World on your shouldrs kind of deal."

Neville scrubs his nose, frowning for a moment. "Oh, yeah. Well… it's nothin', o'course. Ask your mother," he tells the other student before throwing his attention towards three elfs carrying a fresh cherry pie towards him. "Lookit that!"

Fred ohs and nods his head, "If she wants to talk to me this month." He chuckles and then ohs at the pies as they arrive, "I am so stealing some, don't try and protest." He says matter of factly and scoots over on the counter so the pies are within reach. As he talks to Neville he greats houseelves by name, apparently having a good memory for them all, "Oh hey do you know any good wake-me-up plants by the way?"

Neville is munching on a cake, looking happy with his current state. He's seated on the floor by now, eating everything laid out before him. "'Course I do," he says, downing his fresh butterbeer. "Plenty. You snap a stalk on a Smelt Smalt an' it'll wake 'nything in two miles. S'what St. Mungo uses for passed out patients."

Fred grins, "Oh really? Know where I can get some of that? Nia was wondering about making something into a candy to keep students awake." Sure is alot of Nia talk from Fred today.

"It's not too uncommon. A small bug feeds on it, Muggles call them 'stink bugs'. If you've found one of those, you've found a patch of Smelt Smalt not too far off. But it'd taste /awful/ I'd imagine." Neville says, looking a bit disgusted over his pecan snack. The boys keep eating and talking, late into the night. Later they sneak back with almost too many goodies to carry.


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