Kitchen Sink by lark

“James?”

Her voice is strangely high-pitched and the question is followed by a hiccup and a giggle. He sighs, tugging at the laces of her shoes and pulling them loose and free.

“Yes?”

“I think I’m drunk.”

He can’t but smile, the small smile that tugs at one side of his mouth, the gentle upturning of his lips that seems to only occur when she’s around, far different from the devilish, life-loving grin he shares with the rest of the world.

“I’d say that’s a good possibility.”

“Shouldn’t you be in detention?” She sits up and squints at him, one disapproving finger pointing into his face.

“No, but we should both be in bed.”

She glances around, as if realizing for the first time where she is. Heads Rooms.

“Ah.”

“Why don’t you go put your pajamas on and go to sleep? You’re gonna hate yourself in the morning if you stay up too late.”

He rises to get her a glass of water, planning on dropping a smidge of Hangover Potion into it. Not enough to completely cure it, for she does need to learn about the consequences of too much alcohol, but enough to keep her from having to stay in bed.

“You should be drinking. You scored a baaaajilllllionnnn points!”

He smiles again, shakes his head. “A little less than that.”

“You know, I don’t really remember drinking that much. I think I’m a lightweight. My father would be so disappointed.”

He chuckles. “Lesson number one: never accept a drink from Sirius. He’ll spike your drink so slyly, it’s like magic. In fact, he has a spell he uses.”

“Sirius wouldn’t do that,” she scoffs, indignant, “he’s my best friend.”

He outright laughs. “Of course he is.” He’s glad to see that at least one thing in the world, strong rum, can topple Lily Evans from her perch.

“So are you, you know. Bestest. But I’d never tell you in real life.” She smiles, nearly falling into him as she rises, wobbling for a moment before teetering off to her room, one hand waving before she disappears.

He blinks, chastises himself silently, and heads off to bed. He jolts awake before he is fully asleep to the sound of his door opening. Lily, framed in light from the hallway, thrusts her lower lip at him pleadingly.

“My room is spinning. Can I sleep with you?”

He hesitates, but she’s always been far stronger when she wants something, and she climbs into bed next to him before he can even reply. He debates silently whether he should move to the floor, or the couch in the common room, and give her his bed, but then she snuggles next to him, her cheek resting upon his chest and her hair falling across his pillow and he can’t move.

His room spins him to sleep now and he closes his eyes, terrified of the dizziness.