Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Blood is Thicker than Firewhisky
By Silver Sailor Ganymede
Remus knows exactly why Sirius has called him and James to the Golden Snitch before he even opens his mouth. Ever since they left school and entered the war for themselves, Sirius has become one of those men who will seek solace in the bottom of a glass or a bottle. Who can blame him though, really, when so many they knew seem to die every day? Then again, Remus thinks, it's hardly appropriate to be retreating to the pub three times a week while their enemies continue their regin of terror in the streets outside.
"Who is it this time?" James asks, his voice devoid of sympathy. He winces at his own tone upon seeing that Sirius' eyes are completely devoid of their normal spark, not silver now but ice.
"Regulus," comes the short reply. Sirius downs his glass of firewhisky and pours himself another, downing that as well.
"Regulus?" James asks. Remus looks on in shock.
"Dead," Sirius mutters. "Always knew he'd come to a bad end. Filthy fucking Death Eater." He laughs, his usual bark now bordering on hysteria.
"Sirius, he was still your brother," Remus sighs, certain that Sirius knows this to be true - somewhere deep, deep down.
"He was no brother of mine. He was Death Eater scum, just like the rest of them. One less pureblood fanatic for us to deal with, right?" Sirius says, his words slurring even more as he downs what must have been his tenth glass of firewhisky that night, at least, judging by the bottles that stand on the table in front of him.
James laughs loudy, not knowing what else to do, joining Sirius as they begin their usual, foolish competition to see who can down more firewhisky without ending up comatose by the end of the night.
Remus shakes his head in exasperation, turning away from his friends.
"If you hated him that much, why has his death affected you like this?" he mutters, more to himself than anyone else. Neither Sirius nor James hears him, of course, now that they are immersed in their childish competition, acting like a pair of teenagers again.
Remus swills his drink round in its glass, looking distractedly between it and his friends, but never moving to drink it. He doesn't want to begin acting like an idiot even if Sirius and James already are. He hates seeing Sirius like this: with James this was how he always behaved before he finally got with Lily; it is nothing to worry about even if it is exasperating – but Sirius… Sirius is different. He acts like a drunken idiot whenever they go out, but more often than not he is still far more sober than he ever lets on. Indeed, Remus muses, he has only seen Sirius like this once before, when he had met with him and James after running away from his family and being disowned. He had sat there, downing glass after glass after glass of firewhisky, just like he was now.
No matter how Sirius is trying to act, Remus knows that he isn't as unaffected by his brother's death as he is trying to make out. The opposite, in fact, if Remus is correct.
Blood is thicker than firewhisky, no matter what Sirius is trying to prove. Remus gets up, not wanting to watch as his two closest friends drink themselves into oblivion, but not knowing how to stop it either. He leaves the bar.
Later that night, no one is around to see as Sirius Black crumples into hysteria, mourning the loss of the man who had been his younger brother.