The Sixteen Year Old Hangover

'OH, HO!' barked Sirius. He looked up at the stairs and bellowed, 'Did you hear that Prongs? Snivellus the Slimy here reckons he can out-drink me!'

There was an unearthly moan from upstairs, which sounded like it had echoed out of a toilet bowl.

Sirius roared with laughter.

Lily stared at Snape incredulously. Snape grinned back at her. Lily narrowed her eyes. Snape's grin grew even wider. What did the smug little git think he was playing at trying to stare her out?

Lily rolled her eyes in frustration. Men! She would never understand their idiotic little contests. One whiff of alcohol and they regressed to childhood. Like lemmings leaping off a cliff...

Well, she'd just watched her husband make a complete prat of himself, so she certainly wasn't going to watch anyone else disintegrate. She turned her back and tottered toward the living room. Sarah, Gracie and Ruth were in there. They would understand her woes.

Meanwhile, back in the hallway-

'Can I play?' smiled Sharpe innocently.

'No - you damn well can't!' snarled Snape, bristling.

Black raised his eyebrows. 'Oh, you should dump him for that Sharpe. He obviously doesn't respect you. Or...does talk like that turn you on?'

Sharpe raised an eyebrow. 'Well, actually - shame to say, but it does!'

Black waited for Snape's face to flush red again before grinning like a politician on polling day. 'Of course you can play, Spencer!' he said sweetly. 'Wormtail - get the shot glasses, some straws, the bottle of whiskey and the blackcurrant. We're going into the dining room, away from the women.'

Wormtail scurried off eagerly.

Snape shut his eyes. Sod it. All he had wanted to do was ask Lily how to go about making a protective charm. Bribe her if he had to. While she had excelled in charms in school, he had been hopeless at them. He would lie of course, if she asked him what it was for.

He winced as he sat down stiffly on a dining room chair, and tried not to remember the previous night. Potions could help numb out most of the pain, but they couldn't protect the mind from the full horror of the Cruciatus Curse.

Malfoy could stand it, of course - but Malfoy had served the Dark Lord longer, and was probably punch-drunk numb to it. He was also a stupid inbred. Snape was all for good wizard breeding, but Malfoy's parents being first cousins was a fact he found more than a little disturbing.

He stared at the shot glass, which had just been slammed down in front of him. The liquid was a foul purple colour. The sickeningly sweet whiff of blackcurrant juice caused his upper lip to curl back. Oh, what a troll he was to even consider doing this!

But - one consolation. He glared at Black and Sharpe sat across the table from him. They were going to be drinking it too.

'What's it called,' muttered Snape.

'Well, it's my own invention actually Snivelly,' said Sirius smugly. 'And since you've shown a great interest in poisoning yourself with it, I think it makes perfect sense to call it - Snakebite.'

Wormtail giggled.

'Snakebite it is then, Black,' sneered Snape. 'But before you drink anything, just remember which Hogwarts house threw you out.'

Sirius laughed. 'Smart words Greaseball, shame it's actions, not words that matter in life. I moved houses because I had enough honour not to enjoy slithering on the floor like my waste of space family.'

'Hear hear!' cried a voice from the other end of the room. Other voices murmured in agreement.

As the group had entered the dining room and the shot glasses had come out, the other wizards stood about had gradually begun to take interest in what was going on at the table.

Snape's eyes darted about the room. There were at least ten men staring at him with dislike. He sneered at them; he was a Slytherin after all, he was quite used to being despised.

Sirius leaned back casually on his chair and slipped a hand into his robes.

Snape shot up straight as if he'd been stung. His hand quivering over his wand pocket.

Sirius's hand emerged clutching a lighter and a packet of cigarettes. He lit one, and casually blew the smoke in Snape's direction.

'Relax, Snivellus,' remarked Sirius coolly. 'Why, you look like you could do with a really stiff drink.'

'Oh, please, you two!' sighed Sharpe. 'Let's just have some fun for once - a friendly competition?'

Snape then muttered something so foul, it is probably unprintable even within the realms of restricted fiction.

'Right!' snapped Sharpe suddenly, picking up his shot glass. 'Lets get drunk!'

'Ahh,' Sirius said mysteriously, taking a long drag on the cigarette. 'But Snivellus wants 'the same as Potter,' so we are going to be drinking this stuff the same way Potter did.'

'Which is?' snapped Snape. Was there any other damn way to drink alcohol?

Sirius picked up his lighter and stood up smirking. 'Hold up your straws!'

Wormtail giggled. Snape made a mental note to mix up the slowest acting, most gut eroding poison he knew of and spoon feed it to the filthy minded little shit himself. Now there was an ambition to be going on with. Master of torturing watery-eyed Gryffindors. Sounded enticing.

Sirius flicked his lighter and held the flame over the alcohol.

'That'll never light!' sneered Snape.

Suddenly, a flickering purple halo of flame sprung up around the rim of the glass.

'Firewhiskey, Sniv. As flammable as it is potent. Well, fancy that!' exclaimed Black mockingly.

'Hey Spencer old boy, how's it going!' Everyone looked round at the speaker, who was a shortish man with sandy hair and twinkly eyes. He offered his hand. 'Lily told me I'd find you in here!'

'How are you, Ben?' Spencer rose and shook the man's hand energetically.

'Fine! Fine!'

Snape looked curiously across the table at the man. It was that hopeless Hufflepuff, Ben Perks. He smirked. That man had been an utterly useless Quidditch goalkeeper. Even so, he had accidentally managed to knock Potter off his broomstick once, causing him to fall and break his leg. Snape couldn't help but like the man for it.

'Say, what are you playing here?' Perks remarked, his smile wavering slightly as his gaze lighted on Snape.

'Just a bit of snake baiting, Perks,' smiled Black. 'Care to join us to make it a four house championship?'

'The more the merrier,' muttered Snape under his breath.

'That's the spirit Severus!' beamed Spencer.

Another shot glass was slammed down in front of Perks. 'I won't ask what it is, Black,' he said, eyeing the flaming stuff wryly. 'So if Sarah uses Veritaserum on me later I won't be able to confess!'

Black smirked. 'Accio ashtray!' Snape ducked as a heavy pub ashtray divebombed his head and shot into Black's outstretched hand. 'Oops, sorry Sniv,' he exclaimed, casually flicking his ash. 'It must've mistook you for a fag.'

At this pun, a few spectators sniggered. But Pettigrew sounded like he was about to piss himself.

Snape was all up for delaying. The smell of hot blackcurrant was really beginning to get to him. 'Why don't you play as well Pettigrew? If you seem to enjoy it so much!' he snarled. His black eyes flashed around the crowd. 'And anyone else here want to play while I'm at it? Or are you all too scared?'

Angry mutterings filled the room. Scared? Of a runty Slytherin? Of course they weren't!

Forty seconds later...

Snape found himself squashed between two rather sweaty Gryffindors who reeked of Butterbeer. He winced. Maybe he should have just kept his bloody mouth shut.

Black sat directly opposite, watching him like a hawk, before taking hold of his glass, while Spencer began to bang his hand rhythmically on the table.

'Hup - Hup - Hup!'

Others joined in. The table began to shake under the drumming. Snape's fingers clutched at the straw nervously. The noise they were making sounded like a pack of wild dogs!

Hup! Hup! Hup! Hup! Hup!

The drumming was speeding up, as were the whooping noises. It was near deafening.

HUP! HUP!

Then-

'NOOWW!' roared Black.

Snape sucked at the straw and felt the fumes scorch his eyes, and the liquid burn his throat. He heard people begin to cough and splutter around him.

Fu - Fu - Fuuuucccck!

Meanwhile, in the softly lit, less testosterone charged living room...

'So lovely to hear the men all playing nicely together,' said Gracie dryly.

'Yes,' muttered Lily, picking at a bowl of dry roasted nuts. 'What a racket! Who'd think that one scrawny Slytherin would make all the difference...'

'Well, my Ben's in there with them now,' sniffed Sarah. 'I can only shudder to think what immature competition they've invented now.'

'Yes, me too!' chipped in Paula, raising her glass. Some of the other women in the room voiced their agreement.

'They're all the same with alcohol,' nodded Ruth sagely. 'That's why I'm aiming to stay single.'

'Very wise,' smiled Lily. 'Look where my James is now. I'll bet you any amount of Galleons he's still lying on the bathroom floor in a puddle of sick, expecting me to go up there and clear it up.'

'But you still love him, Lily,' smiled Lupin, sipping his drink.

'Yes, Remus, of course I do,' smiled Lily, popping a nut into her mouth. 'Someone has to look after the proud git.'

'So, Remus,' whispered Ruth leaning closer. 'Is your motorbike riding friend still single?'

'Who, Sirius?' A rather hairy eyebrow rose up in confusion. 'Well, er, yes...I think so.'

Ruth sighed dreamily. 'I think he's rather sexy.'

Sarah snorted a word into her wine glass, which sounded suspiciously like 'leather.' They all giggled.

Lupin cleared his throat awkwardly.

'You be careful with that one,' Lily warned. 'One night stands are his speciality.'