(1939-02-08) Elephants
Details for Elephants
Summary: This is what happens when you drink, kids.
Date: 8th Feb 1939
Location: Three Broomsticks Pub

The best thing about Saturday nights on Hogsmeade weekends is the opportunity to head out with a few mates to the Three Broomsticks and have a few refreshing beverages. The worst thing about Saturday nights on Hogsmeade weekends is the opportunity to head out with a few mates to the Three Broomsticks and have a lot of refreshing beverages. Judging by the noise, the hilarity, the stack of empty glasses slowly building up, and the fact that Douglas is actually now standing on one of the tables, pulling his pockets out of his trousers and making elephant noises, it looks like he's well on his way from the former to the latter, and it's only through sheer luck that his elephant impersonations are mostly aimed at his friends and the wall and not the entire pub or he'd surely have been thrown out by now.

Eibhlin has found her way out of the castle this evening, but for the moment at least she's on her own. There are those voices that if you know them, you recognize them anywhere and Douglas', perhaps unfortunately, is one of those. "I don't know that I want to ask," the redhead comments as she comes up to the table that he and his friends have occupied.

And that right there is a female voice, if not one Douglas can recognise immediately until he looks over his shoulder, hurriedly zipping up and turning a rather unasked shade of red. "Ahh… and that's the noise of the… ah… Shine! Fit like!" he manages gamely, hands going to stuff his pockets back into his trousers as he steps down from the table. "Y'all right, aye? Um. Drink?"

Eibhlin raises a brow, somewhat skeptical of innocent act. For one Douglas Macmillan has likely never been innocent and two him turning red is a sure sign that he was up to something. "I am," she replies about being alright, followed by a slight nod. "I was thinking about it." Why else would anyone venture to the Broomsticks if not for a drink? "But I think you might have had enough?"

"I have had," Douglas insists, with the sort of solemnity which tends to occur somewhere between pints four and six, "just enough to drink, which means you need to catch up. We've got… uh… 'sidecars'?" he hazards, looking to his mates for confirmation even as he forms the air quotes with his fingers. "They're sort of lemony."

"I don't know about catching up," Eibhlin replies. She certainly doesn't need anywhere near the alcohol he's likely had to be just as drunk. "But I suppose one couldn't hurt." She'll agree to that for now.

A cheer goes up, that being the only possible responsible answer to a young woman deciding she ought to join three somewhat sloshed lads in having 'one couldn't hurt'. Douglas, for his troubles, points in turn to each of his two friends, and being the good friend he's not, asks them ever so politely to "Fuck off, would you, for a bit? I'm going to chat up Shine." Yes. The Shine who's stood right there. Shh. "Wait here," he tells the redhead in question, giving her a wink and a waggle of his brows, something he's convinced absolutely endears him to all women, near and far, and then swaggers over to the bar to order another round, coins thunked down solidly to show his intent.

Eibhlin can only shake her head, a slight roll her her eyes accompanying it. Boys. "I am right here," she reminds him, but its likely a futile attempt on her part. That waggle of his brows only brings another shake of her head and a sigh.

Douglas flashes her a huge grin as he returns with a drink in each hand, passing one of the sugar-rimmed glasses to her and raising his own. "Cheers, then. Slainte! Come on, you know I can't resist your charms, Shine. I'm beginning to think you're a boggart, because I've got this terrible, crippling fear of really fit women."

Eibhlin laughs ask she takes the offered glass, lifting it then to gently clink against his. "Slainte," she repeats, though her rendition is a far more demure. His next comment however comes at just the right time to find her choking on her first sip. "Oh yes," she laughs, "I'm sure you're terribly scared of me."

"I am!" Douglas protests, nudging out a seat for her with the toe of his shoe before settling back in a seat himself and propping his feet up. "Chatting you up is my coping mechanism to deal with the fear, I swear it. Would this face lie?"

"Are you sure you want me to answer that?" Eibhlin replies shooting him subtle grin as she slides into the seat he's pushed out. Settling herself she lifts the glass in hand to take a proper drink before letting the glass rest on the table in front of them.

"Ha, no. Fair point, fair point," Douglas concedes amiably, taking a good slug from his drink, a larger sort of sip than he started the day on, for sure, but then after a few of them, they just slip down so easily. "So other than getting hit on by lads… incredibly attractive, charming, witty lads, I hasten to add… what're you up to this evening?"

Eibhlin just shakes her head. He would have to add that quip about himself, but she's not commenting any further on that beyond the quirk of her lips. "Taking a break from studying?" she offers the answer with a slight upturn of question in her own voice. "Maybe I was hoping a little that I might run into…" but she leaves it at that with a shrug a she lifts the glass for a second drink. She knows better than that.

"You're in luck," Douglas informs her, nodding wisely. "I'm here. You found me." He leans back further in his seat, tipping it up onto two legs and threatening to tip the whole lot if he's not careful, but the look of casual arrogance slips for just a moment as he pulls himself forward again. "You're all good, though, aye? Sorted yourself? Still thinking?"

Eibhlin almost reaches to steady the chair. Almost, but he's got it under control for the time being it would seem."All good, yes," she agrees on that note, "But still thinking." Or not, but either way she hasn't made a decision as of yet. "But you certainly seem to be having a good evening."

Douglas holds up a hand - his free hand, not the drink holding hand. That would be silly - and fixes his gaze on her. "Look, I'm sorry about the elephant thing. It was a bet."

Eibhlin blinks at him over the top of her own glass, which is being emptied likely far faster than she perhaps should. "Its fine," she assures, but then whatever might have been going on beyond animal noises or the reasoning behind it all.. well that's something she's oblivious to.

"Cornfoot said ten sickles I wouldn't," Douglas continues earnestly, determined to explain exactly why he's today in the habit of exposing himself. "So I had to. I had to. You understand, right?"

Eibhlin nods slightly, "Right," she agrees to, well she's not exactly sure what she's agreeing to, but it seems the easiest course of action at the moment. That said she takes another long sip from the glass in hand. He did say she had to catch up, right? She sighs the, visibly relaxing if only a bit.

Douglas takes a sip of his own drink, then nods towards hers. "Come on, get it down you, Shine. You're about half a dozen behind! Don't make me pull out the drinking games. I'll do it. I'm not bluffing."

"I'm working on it…" Eibhlin almost whines at his prodding. She's about halfway through and well on her way to being a little tipsy. "I said I'd have one," she reminds him, leaning forward just a bit to hold up a single finger of the hand not on the drink. "One."

Douglas nods to her drink again, explaining with absolute sincerity, "But that one's only a small one, so technically it doesn't count, or if it does it only counts as half. And nobody goes out and has half a drink. It's absurd. I'll get you the other half of that one when you're done, but they're best when they're really cold, so it's no good lining them up, I've found." That dilemma duly dealt with, he leans back precariously on the back legs of his seat again, rocking. "Last one to finish their drink has to do a dare."

Eibhlin blinks, blue eyes turning don towards the glass in hand and then back up to the Gryffindor. "Half?" It certainly looks like a whole drink if you as her. Somehow that proposal of last one gets the dare just doesn't seem fair. "Seems rather one sided if you ask me." They both know he'll finish first if he wants to.

Douglas shrugs his shoulders helplessly. "Well, I can't help it if you can't even swallow a drink. You think there should be some kind of handicap system in place, or what?"

"I can to swallow a drink," Eibhlin huffs, "I'm just not about to down it all at once." That said she does take another drink from the glass, but there's easily another quarter left. "Perhaps," she considers the proposal of said system after swallowing. "What'd you have in mind?"

It takes a few moments of consideration, Douglas leaning back on two legs of his chair again until it's almost certain he's going to fall, before settling forward. "Well, I'll let you drink half of yours first. So you've got a headstart. And I'll go from the top of a fresh one. But you've almost finished that one already, so the bet starts with the next drink."

"Fine," Eibhlin agrees with a reluctant sigh, though she does shoot him a grin over the top of her glass as she lifts it to her lips once again. "You know," she comments eyeing the remnants of the liquor inside. "It is rather good. I'll have to keep it in mind for another time. What did you say it was called again?" Question posed she finally finishes off the last sip.

"She said it's a 'sidecar'," Douglas tells her again, shrugging one shoulder as he drains the last of his drink and sets down the empty. "It's Corvidae and lemon and kumquat or something. I wasn't really listening. It's good, though, eh?" Again he waggles his brows and digs in his pocket for more coins to offer at the bar so he can get another round. "You like nuts?" he calls back as he gets there, and sure enough a bag of salted peanuts are added to the drinks he orders.

Eibhlin hmms, "Sidecar.." she repeats the drink's name quietly, considering it and perhaps trying to commit it to memory. "Yeah," she adds in reply to the question of nuts, turning to watch as he disappears to the bar for the next round.

Douglas returns not long afterwards, bag of nuts between his teeth and a drink in each hand. He leans forward over the table, jutting his chin towards her in a mute signal to take the bag from him as his hands are full, and then the cocktail glasses are slid onto the table with a sort of anticipatory glint in his eye. Getting women drunk! Hooray!

Eibhlin reaches up to take the bag from him when he returns, setting it on the table between her seat and his a moment later. She's already well on her way to drunk, if not already this round will certainly cement it. She shouldn't really, but every so often it happens. "Thanks," noted as she curls fingers around the glass pushed her way.

Douglas takes up his seat again, spinning it round so he's sat backwards on it, forearms resting along the back as he watches her. "You get to drink half way first, then," he allows her, leaving his own cocktail on the table untouched for now. "And what's the dare going to be? Or do you want me to just pick it when you lose?"

Eibhlin nods, carefully lifting the glass to take a sip, as she thinks. "Why don't we see who wins before we go picking? Hmm?" she says before taking a longer drink this time.

Douglas raises a brow, half grinning at her. "Because I'm going to win, of course? I might as well start thinking ahead of time exactly what you'll have to do."

"Well you're confident if nothing else," Eibhlin replies, the words full of amusement. A few minutes and a drink or two later her glass is left half full. "Who says I can't beat you?"

"Because," Douglas explains, taking his glass and lifting it in an ironic toast, "I'm a Gryffindor, and we hate losing. Bottoms up."

Eibhlin laughs, "I don't exactly like losing," she points out lifting her glass to mimic his toast though not enough to actually bump glasses.

Douglas flashes her a huge grin, then lifts his glass. "Better get used to it soon, then," he informs her, setting his lips to the edge of his sugar encrusted glass and beginning to chug. Downing cocktails. This cannot end well.

No, no, it likely will not end well. Eibhlin will try to keep up, but alas, its not meant to be much as they likely both expected. About halfway though she pauses to cough.

Douglas keeps drinking, draining the glass steadily. He's got his mind set on the task now, and never mind those little things like liver function, he's got a bet to win! With only the last dregs remaining, he gasps for air, flipping the glass upside down over his head so the dribbles drip into his hair, but he's won and that's what matters. "HA!"

Eibhlin was trying, really she was, and after catching her breath she'd tried for another drink. She just doesn't have the capacity to guzzle alcohol like that. With a sigh she gives up, resting her glass on the table. "Fine then," she comments, tilting her head just a bit, "What is it?"

Douglas shudders briefly as the alcohol hits his stomach in a rush, breathing in through his nose for a long moment until the wave of nausea fades. He squeezes his eyes closed for a second before wrinkling his nose and considering. "Alllll right. Your dare. You've got to… I've got it. You've got until next Saturday to get me a pair of bloke's undies. I don't care how you get 'em."

Eibhlin blinks, "You made me nearly choke for that?" she questions, raising a brow even as a light flush rises to her cheeks. How she's going to manage that she hasn't yet figured out, but neither is she refusing. "Or what?" Then again, come morning they might both have forgotten all about it.

"There is no or what," Douglas responds with genuine bewilderment. "That's the dare. You have to do it. That's it. That's how it works."

"Fine, fine," Eibhlin replies with a wave of her free hand as she lifts her glass to finish off the rest in one good long drink. "I'll try." Awkwardly most likely, but here's hoping no one remembers come morning.

Douglas lifts a hand to his mouth, burping into it quietly, then rests his elbow on the back of the chair again, chin on his hand. "Fair's fair. You get to set the next challenge, then. I'm clearly the best drinker, but maybe you can beat me at something. I'll give you the chance to get one back on me."

Eibhlin hmms.. "Well I am good at riddles," she is a Ravenclaw after all, "But I hardly see it being fair for me to ask and answer." Lips curl up in a slight smile and she shrugs, "I don't know about you, but I think I could use some air."

Douglas nods amiably to that, rising to his feet then taking a moment just to steady his balance. "Sure, we can go have a walk. I could show you where we're looking to buy a place, if you want. It's a bit small, and I don't have the keys, but I can show you the outside?" He offers his arm, not entirely exactly where she is, but close.

Eibhlin nods, finding her feet as well. "Medusa show me one place, but that was awhile ago…" So they might be looking at another by now. "I'd like to see though," she agrees, turning not so very gracefully to slip her arm through the one he offers.

Douglas just beams at that, moving her arm from his to around his waist, so he can instead loop his arm around her shoulders. If we're fair, it's probably more for support than anything, but still. He gives an airy wave around to anyone still left in the place that he knows, huge, clearly drunk grin on his face. "Where did she show you? You should come and stay with us. Next year."

Eibhlin laughs. She might be good to lean on but she's certainly not going to hold him up on her own. She's not arguing the move though, letting him lead the way. "I don't remember exactly. It was a little place down the street. It was a tailor or something before?" not quite sure herself anymore. As for staying with them, "I don't know that that's exactly in the rules, but maybe during holiday?"

Douglas nods solemnly, the serious nod of the well and truly sloshed who, when asked, will firmly deny they're under any influence whatsoever, and oh that bush just jumped out at them and no, really, you've always been their best friend ever. "Morgana's having the other room," he explains, "but if she brings home any dickheads, I'm going to kick them down the stairs."

Eibhlin nods, "So I heard," she replies as they head out onto the street. "Can't blame you for that though," she giggles at his theory on handling any guys the current head girl might bring home with her. "Should teach 'em, yeah?"

"She's got no taste," Douglas tells her. "All the blokes she fancies are awful. Except me, of course."

Eibhlin laughs, leaning back on him. "Yeah? Well some would think that anyone who fancies you has no taste," she teases back, "They're just too scared of Malfoy to say it," she adds with a grin.

Douglas snorts, pulling her head in against his shoulder as they make it out of the door. "What's not to fancy? Everyone loves a thick bastard with a plooky neck and a stupid accent, right?"

"Maybe not everyone," Eibhlin teases, "But not everyone likes the same sort of bloke, right. Just like not every bloke likes the same sort of girl." A shrug then as she turns a smile up at him.

"Some things are pretty universal, though," Douglas reasons. "I mean… nobody wants a fatty, or some skinny girl with no meat to her at all. Or somebody with a face like a bag of spanners. Or if they stink, that's the worst, I reckon. I mean, I don't care how pretty you are, if you don't wash, I'm not interested."

Eibhlin nods, "True," she agrees, "I wouldn't date anyone who didn't wash either." Then again, who would? Leaning her head back against his shoulder to turn eyes up towards the sky. An action which leaves her nearly tripping over her own feet.

Which in turn has Douglas snickering quietly. Because falling over is funny. Everything's funny after enough to drink. "I like redheads," he announces to her. "If I wasn't taken, I would totally have you."

Eibhlin grabs a handful of his shirt as trying to steady herself, laughing at herself right along with him. "If I weren't taken I might consider it," she says with a smile which falls as she realizes her mistake, "Er.. if you weren't. Yeah. That."

"Phi-illll," Douglas sings, stumbling his way along the path and poking his tongue out at her. "Phil with the fourteen inch boooa-byyy.."

"Shhh!" Eibhlin tries to shush him rather loudly, swatting a hand at him, her face turning bright red at his taunting. "Stop it!" the redhead pouts, which is likely just as funny. "You're rude and vulgar and… your just terrible."

Douglas just laughs at the swat, reaching to catch it and grinning hugely. "Come on, you'd love it. You know you would. Tha-DONK!" It's an interesting sound effect, the visual for which is a slight bend at the waist so he can set his elbow near his own crotch and flop his arm down. Rude and vulgar. Check.

Eibhlin huffs, "I don't know why I ever told you that," she comments twisting away and stumbling a bit as she tries to walk off.

"Oh come on," Douglas calls back, with a good natured laugh, offering his hand out to her again. "I'm sure he's a great lad. Not as great as me, but not everyone has the privilege of being born Scottish."

Eibhlin turns back to meet him half way, poking a finger to his chest as she shoots him a hard look which is likely more amusing than intimidating coming from her. "He's a good man with a good job which is more than I can say for you right now."

Douglas holds up both hands in mock defence, pulling a face. "Oh come on, that's below the belt! I'm a student! But I've got a job lined up for next year if the business doesn't take! A good job. In an office. Very responsible!"

Eibhlin grins which turns into laughter only a second later. "I'm sorry," she apologizes, still giggling. "The thought of you in an office…." Well it is a funny mental picture after all.

Douglas groans, hands going up to his face. "I know… I've got to make the business work, or I'll go nuts."

Eibhlin giggles, amusement still evident on her face. "You will," she replies, trying to stop herself from laughing through her assurance. "You're smart about those things, and Medusa's good at the things you aren't. That and I don't see either of you giving up easy."

"Not if her folks keep being dicks about it," Douglas insists, wrinkling his nose. Happy drunk is giving way to maudlin drunk, and he finds himself an edge of wall to sit on along the road. "Not if they keep being dicks about me. I'm plenty good enough," he protests, as though it were Eibhlin who was arguing the point. "I'm a Macmillan, I've got a sound plan, I play fucking quidditch even though it's shit, and I'm taking two NEWTs. I might even pass Charms! What more do they bloody want?"

Eibhlin sighs, turning to drop to a seat beside him. "I don't know," she admits truthfully. "I'm not them, but at least you have that going for you. I mean really, could you see them if they had a son who wanted to date someone like me?" Question posed she wrinkles her nose at the thought before shaking her head. "I like you better when you're not a dick though."

"They wouldn't," Douglas tells her simply. "Malfoys don't. End of story. But… come on, I'm sacred twenty eight and even I'm not good enough? What gives, eh?" Ah. He's so sensitive to half blood worries.

"Exactly my point," Eibhlin replies. "At least you have a chance, not that I fancy any Malfoys, but all the same." She shrugs, wetting her lips with her tongue. "Perhaps they just haven't gotten to know you?"

Douglas loops his arm companionably around her shoulders, leaning in even as he pulls her in against him. "But if they haven't even gotten to know me yet, they can't have found out I'm a dick already, can they?"

Eibhlin lifts a shoulder in a half shrug as she settles her head on his shoulder. "She has cousins that go to school with us too, doesn't she?" the redhead comments, not quite sure of the entire family tree herself, but well aware that its a distinct possibility. "People talk."

"Well, there's Beatrice Nott," Douglas agrees, nose wrinkling, "But I thought I got on all right with her. Snogged her once in fourth year. Seriously, am I really that much of a twat?"

"Maybe she's jealous?" Eibhlin suggests at the mention of Beatrice Nott. "You're a bit of an acquired taste though honestly," she says turning smile to to him, "But you do have your moments. You're what now? Eighteen? And you still act like you're twelve."

"Seventeen," Douglas corrects her, wrinkling his nose. "And… I'm not acting like I'm twelve, I'm just having fun. While I still can! You think I can have fun if I end up stuck in a damn office?"

Eibhlin nods, "Well still." She was close. "Of course you can, just maybe not IN the office," she points out. She wrinkles her nose at the boy. "At least you know you have the office to fall back on." All this serious talk is a little much for the drunk.

"You ever think to yourself… ah, fuck it?" Douglas queries, pulling her in against him for a hug, mostly for his own benefit rather than hers. "I mean… well… fuck it."

Eibhlin nods, leaning into him for that hug and even going so far as to lift her opposite hand to reach across herself to his other shoulder. "Don't know that I've used those exact words, but yes. Its why I've entertained the idea of Philip I suppose."

"Thadonk," Douglas can't help but add as she says the boy's name.

Eibhlin balls up the hand on his shoulder only to punch him with it. Not that its likely to hurt him. "You're just proving my point you know."

Douglas wrinkles his nose, giving her a half grin at the punch. "Ow. Look, you'll be grateful that I'm the only lad who's prepared to talk about these things when it comes down to it. Without me to guide them, most of the lads in the school would still be fumbling about with no idea what they're doing. I provide a service."

Eibhlin snorts. No, its not very ladylike, but plied with alcohol she doesn't so much care. "Yes, well I don't appreciate being teased about it," she comments, pulling back to stick her tongue out at him.

Douglas grins, lifting his hand to mess her hair, then leaning away before she can retaliate (not that his hair could get much messier, if we're honest). "Hey, it's a compliment! You can use it about me any time, I won't mind!"

Eibhlin tries to duck out of the way of his hair mussing hand. Try being the operative word as not only does she not avoid it, but has to scramble to keep her balance on the wall.

Douglas just laughs, clutching for the front of her jumper to stop her falling. And, in his defence, he is going for jumper and not a cheeky grope. For once in his life. "Steady! Good thing I'm here to save your life." Life. Falling from a 2 foot wall into a bush. Well. There may be a slight amount of hyperbole.

"I don't need saving," Eibhlin shoots back her face red, though she did grab for his hand in that moment of near fall. That's what they all say, trying to save lives, not trying to grope.

Douglas arches a brow, then shrugs and just shoves her back for the bush, then, still grinning. There. No saving necessary.

"Ack!: Eibhlin cries as she reaches for something to catch herself only to side off the wall and into said bush. "Ow…" she says in a bit of a whimper. She said she didn't need saving, not that she needed help falling. Difference! Of course watching her get to her feet afterwards is just as amusing. Bush, snow, drunk, skirt. Its a combination that doesn't go well together.

For all Douglas's crass talk, perhaps the most surprising thing is that, while he does offer her his hand up and an amused grin, he also keeps his eyes well averted rather than ogling. "Och, ya great jessie, you're fine!"

"I said I didn't need saving," Eibhlin reminds even as she reaches for the offered hand to help pull herself to her feet. "Not that I needed help falling." She can't keep a straight face saying it though, she does try, but it only ends in a grin. "Maybe we should be heading back though..?"

"Before somebody accuses me of sweeping you off your feet and running away with me, you mean?" Douglas queries, nonetheless rising to his feet and dusting himself off, pulling her up with him. "You'd need to at least buy me dinner first."

Eibhlin rolls her eyes, "I have no intention of running away with you Macmillan," she replies as she finds her feet. "I'm in love with someone else, besides, I'd expected at least one proper date first."

"I bought you a drink," Douglas points out, squeezing her hand into the crook of his arm as he sets out along the road once more with her towards the castle. "And we… well, you fell over and I helped you up, which usually pretty much sums up my dancing attempts any day of the week. Shit, we're practically dating already. One snog and I'm yours."

Eibhlin laughs, "If only you were single," she teases back with a grin. "But even so, I've sworn off dating pure-bloods," she explains, "They're just more trouble than its worth."

"Naw, we're only trouble if you start looking at serious shit," Douglas argues amiably. "Casual sex, though? I am totally your man."

Eibhlin ahs, "Is that the catch of it all?" she asks, flushing rather brightly against her pale complexion at his following comment. "Well.. if I were that sort and you weren't already dating someone I might take you up in it."

Douglas laughs, boxing her shoulder. "Yeah, yeah. If I weren't attached. Always the excuse. Come on, before the bloody gates close and I'm expelled for good."

"Well if you want to give her parents more reason to dislike you…" Eibhlin remarks. "You are with a Prefect," she points out. One who's playing a bit outside the rules tonight, but all the same. "But you're right."

"I wouldn't write them a letter to tell them," Douglas points out, rolling his eyes and flicking a quick, crooked grin. The gates aren't a great distance by now, and he gives her a sidelong look. "Last chance before we head on in..?"

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