"To alcohol, the cause of and solution to all of life's problems." Homer J. Simpson

During the time I attended Hogwarts, it was the height of the 70's and the sexual revolution was just spreading to England. I wasn't sexually promiscuous or anything like that, but I did believe a girl ought to enjoy some fun once in awhile. I knew I didn't have an ounce of Catholicism or religion in me, but I wanted to remain a virgin until I married. Being virginal seemed like the epitome of being ecclesiastical, which fazed me, and for a short while, I had considered just losing it with an hot, sexy escort or the first guy that would have me, but I knew, deep down, that it was important to me and even as cliché as it sounded, I wanted it to be special.

I had enough regrets about my life and I didn't want to collect anymore. The tearful morning afters and awful aftermaths of some of my friends were obvious hints to me that losing it would probably be another big regret. Besides, I knew it took a lot more than the sole purpose of taking a girl's virginity for a guy to walk down the aisle and make everything official. And if I married the poor guy, which would take a lot more than whispered sweet nothings and butterbeer for me to accept a proposal, he'd be stuck with me for life. When I had settled down, I had no intention of divorcing... unless I came to eventually loathe him.

Out of all of us, Adrienne was the most openly sexual one. She had plenty of boyfriends who she had showed many displays of public affection for, but whenever her virginity was questioned, she would mumble about how she'd rather not say and steer us into another subject. I concluded that she was either embarrassed to admit that she still had her flower or too ashamed to admit that somebody had already stole her essence. Either way, we left it alone. When the usually talkative Adrienne started to mumble, we knew not to pursue the subject too hard. Cecily was one of those brave loudmouth smartasses. I knew she had lost hers probably when she summered in Germany and wrote to me constantly about her seductive tour guide, Aleksandr, and how she had been dropping the most obvious hints to him. When she returned and we were reunited at Hogwarts once again, she told me with a tinkering, reminiscing laugh that his English was absolutely atrocious, but then again, her German wasn't all that great, or even correct (she could never bring herself to spit in other people's faces or pronounce those r's exactly), but who really gave a damn when his accent was downright divine (much like Gustov's, that wonderful bartender mentioned previously who supplies me with a seemingly never-ending supply of butterbeer and other certain drinks when the time is right)? She never really told me she had lost it, but there was just that extra sparkle in her eye, which absolutely screamed it. Genevieve usually spent all her time studying; I doubt she probably even got to first. Let alone half of first.

The question of sexuality was raised once more, because they were convinced some lowly fellow had plucked my flower and that I had regretted it or something along the lines of that.

My friends bothered me the whole night about it. They got even more worried when I turned down a game of poker (Cecily's luck at poker seemed never-ending and was draining my energy and my money). Even Genevieve went as far as to suggest that I check into the Hospital Wing that night and stay there under the watchful eye of Madam Pomfrey. But we all knew that bitch hated me because I snuck in too many times to steal her healing potions for hangovers and whatnot, so it was useless.

It was a boring day already and an even more boring afternoon session of Defense Against the Dark Arts. The teacher for this class, Professor Vargas, was droning on about Dark Creatures. He was a new teacher (I'm convinced that the position is cursed, but Genevieve begs to differ, apparently it's just all the firings and hirings are concidental) and he had already mastered how to put us all asleep with the magic of a few sentences into a lecture. He probably caught on that most of the class was asleep, poor guy, so he assigned us all partners to do a project on.

"I want eleven inches from you... each. Lily Evans and Sirius Black. Jack Smith and James Potter. Remus Lupin and Adrienne Voscura. Genevieve Blythe and Mundungus Fletcher. Cecily Marseille and Taylor Wells. Peter Pettigrew and Rachel Stevens..." Professor Vargas continued to list the names, but I didn't listen since I didn't really give a damn.

This was all a ploy to keep us awake, and daresay, it'd worked.

James shot an annoyed look at Professor Vargas for not pairing him with Sirius.

Sirius rolled his eyes at James and motioned for me to go over.

When I was younger and feeling vixenish, I would strut my stuff, wearing my short shorts and a low tanktop around the whole school. When I was studying with a boy, it was so devastatingly hilarious to watch his reactions to what I was wearing. I would be talking about humans being transfigured into objects (on accident, of course) while just innocently pulling down my tank top, almost to the point of revealing my bra, and see his eyes grow a little bit wider, flick down for just a second, and then up to my face again. It was a horribly trampy thing for me to do, I know, but then again I was just having some harmless fun. It gave me a slight rush, doing something condemned to be so coquettish. It was my version of that boring game you play with yourself during a boring car ride. Except there are no car rides or roads in my game. Same concept, though.

I smiled as I walked up to Sirius, I was contemplating unbuttoning the first few buttons of my robe, letting my sequined tanktop show from below, but I decided against it. Sirius was a fellow thrill-seeker and friend, I didn't think of him that way and I didn't want him thinking I was like that.

I sat down primly and opened the book; fully aware that Sirius's eyes were on me with an amused grin.

"It's interesting to see how we've never been partnered together until today."

I looked up. "Very interesting. Maybe we should give Vargas some more credit for putting the two most brilliant students in the room together."

"About time, huh? He's finally opened his senses."

I chuckled. "Let's get started."

"Anyways, I hear you drank all our butterbeer that night, did you?" He tilted his head to the side. "I don't know anybody who could've finished off as much as you did."

Sirius had caught me off guard--something which I hated and feared. I hated not knowing what to say, usually I blurted out something I regretted. I shrugged my shoulders, only because I couldn't think of anything else to do, really. "Couldn't help myself, Black. You know how it gets with butterbeer."

Sirius nodded, tilting his head back to place. "I do, I really do. Too bad I had to leave before I saw you drink it all."

"I never knew that you were that scared of McGonagall," I replied smugly, reminiscing the expression of fear and horror on his face that night. Both classic and priceless at the same time. "Sure, she's strict sometimes, but not to the extent of the shade of pale your face turned."

Sirius exhaled. "Oh, the things she can do, my dear, dear Evans... they are too delicate for your prissy little ears."

"Sure."

"So, I also hear you're getting on fine with James?"

Again, I was a little thrown off at the mention of James, but I kept my composure and just shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess. He's not too bad. He ruins things," I said with a small smile playing on my lips, remembering our chat. "But I love how you keep hearing things about me. Do tell, are you gossiping about me? Because if so, I'm flattered Sirius. Flattered you've taken an interest in myself."

I really did wonder if he was gossiping about me, and if he did, I could care less. I had one of the most interesting, best, and fascinating conversations with James yesterday in the library. In less than a span of thirty minutes, we'd laughed, flirted, discussed aging and my appearance, talked about my wretched sister who I never talk about, and denoted ourselves with the most absurd nicknames ever. It was beautiful.

Sirius stared at me, studying me. I could feel his eyes on me, running over my features and examining my appearance. "You're... interesting," he said slowly. "I don't know why, but you are... very interesting."

I was bemused. "Is that good or bad?"

"None." Sirius smiled. "And that's what's so interesting about you."

I rolled my eyes. "You are such a fucking little minx, you know that? Trying to trick me with your irony and your cognitious wordplay... but I'll take it as a compliment."

Sirius smiled (when does he not?) and simply said, "I get that a lot."

"I'm sure you do."

"Anyways, would the second most brilliant student in the room like to accompany the first most brilliant student in the room for some drinks at Hogsmeade tonight at, perhaps, eight?"

I clapped a hand to my mouth, feigning shock. "But, Sirius! It's not a Hogsmeade weekend."

"Frankly, my dear... and, you, my Lily darling, I presume, know the rest," Sirius answered lazily, finally skimming through the text of the book and jotting down some notes about dark creatures. "When is this due, anyways?"

I scowled, ignoring his question, looking down, and began scrawling some notes about dark creatures. Pairing up the two most brilliant students in the room seemed like a wasted move, since we were really doing nothing. "Asshat."

"That's irrelevant."

I scoffed. "You're irrelevant."

Sirius cocked an eyebrow. "But I do hear irrelevant asshats are quite the charmers, aren't they?"

"Frankly, my dear... I don't give a damn." And with last smile, relishing the moment and the odd look painted on Sirius's face, I got up and left.

&&&&&

"You're late," I stated impatiently. My breath made tiny puffs of mist into the cold air that vanished as fast as it came out. I crossed my arms against my chest protectively, partly because I was angry, and partly because I was freezing my ass off. I didn't know whether or to come tonight since the invitation was so casual, but I decided so the fuck what, and it's not like I had anything better to do. Besides, Sirius was apparently similar me, and I adored me, so it would be interesting to get to know him (or would it be me?). But so far it was far from interesting since I stood in front of the Three Broomsticks, waiting for him for about a half an hour.

"No, you're just early." Sirius brushed some leaves off his robes. Before I could even ask, he grinned. "Detention then ran into a bush, don't ask. Irrelevant asshats tend to do that sometimes, sorry."

"I wasn't going to, and you said eight," I asserted, suppressing a smile. I could not stand lateness, but I couldn't stand not to laugh at Sirius, despite his irrelevant asshat-ish tendencies. "And, my dear Mr. Black... it is thirty minutes past eight right now."

Sirius shrugged. "Well, I didn't know you'd be here, to be honest. We never agreed on it."

He was right, but I never said I didn't want to go. "I agreed to it silently, didn't you know?" I asked. "Guess we're not telepathic."

"Shame," Sirius sighed and opened. "So, shall we?"

"Fine, but you're paying for all of it." I walked in and was immediately warmed by the smell of that freshly made butterbeer that had just started simmering, the honey-sweet smell of newly brewed mulled mead, and the body heat of all the individuals in the room who was chattering and laughing away. The energy and liveliness of the room was contagious, and I felt more hearty and upbeat than ever.

"Feels great, huh?" Sirius asked, lending his hand. "Here, come on."

Sirius pulled me over to one of the booths on the side. They were the old-fashioned type of booths, the ones with the bright red cushions and intricate designs on the table.

"Sit," Sirius said, motioning toward the booth. We both sat down on opposite sides, and I could throw in a snide comment about how unSirius it was of Sirius to offer me a seat, Madame Rosmerta bustled over with a paper in her hand and a quill in the other. She looked excited, probably because Sirius Black, one of her favorite customers, had just waltzed in. Of course it wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend, not even a weekend in fact, but who really gave a damn when it came to Sirius Black?

"What can I get you two?" she asked. "Sirius, I hope you haven't been getting in any trouble lately! Where's James? I thought you two were joined at the hip!"

So many possibilities... so many ways to spend Sirius's money.

Sirius stretched and yawned. "Nah, I needed a night away from the old ball and chain. Getting a little clingy. You know how it is."

Madame Rosmerta laughed. "You two do seem conjoined at the hip sometimes."

"Sometimes? More like always."

I didn't really know Madame Rosmerta all that well. I guess one could call me a regular at the Three Broomsticks, but I've never really talked to her unless I was listing what I wanted to drink. Of course, I knew she was a very nice person with a warm heart and big smile, so I didn't really dislike her, but something made me feel like a third wheel. Perhaps the flirting?

"Madame Rosmerta? I'll have three mugs of butterbeer, two glasses of mulled mead, some gillywater, and cherry syrup with soda, ice, an umbrella, and a maraschino cherry on top, pretty please?" I flashed a smile at Madame Rosmerta.

"Quite an order," she commented, giving Sirius a knowing look.

He seemed a little shocked by my order, but he was probably used to it. I had a tendency to shock people sometimes.

"I'll just have a butterbeer," Sirius said. "Thanks Rosie."

"You're welcome, Sirius," Madame Rosmerta replied, and with one last smile, she left to get us our drinks.

"My, my, Evans... I didn't know you were that thirsty. I could maybe get you some water..."

I smirked. "I just like to spend your money, Sirius. I think I'm getting really good at it."

Again, he did his annoying head tilt, and this time it caused his hair to fall in his face. "Oh, really?"

"Completely." I leaned back on the booth and crossed my arms again, shooting Sirius a challenging look. "So what was the point of this meeting anyways? Meeting of the geniuses? We do have brilliant minds, but we accomplish nothing, so it is quite sad."

I guess Madame Rosmerta really liked Sirius because our drinks came quicker than I imagined. Before I knew it, I had three mugs of hot, hot butterbeer, two glasses of mulled mead, gillywater, and cherry syrup with soda, ice, a paper umbrella, and a single, luscious, red maraschino cherry on the top staring at me.

"Quite a display," Sirius commented.

"You should see my meals," I answered. I grabbed the handle of one of the mugs containing butterbeer and raised it toward Sirius. "Cheers."

He put wrapped his fingers around the handle of his mug as well and raised it to me. "To the future of us, wreaking havoc on Hogwarts. Cheers."

Our glasses clinked and I took a long-awaited gulp of butterbeer. I could feel this warm, magical-feeling substance ooze richly down my throat and I savored the moment. Fuck being successful, this was the life.

"Heaven, huh?" Sirius asked, apparently noticing my bliss.

I nodded. "Completely." I reached into my to my robes and pulled out my miniature bottle of Absolut. Ahh, it had been too long. I unscrewed the cap and poured in some into my butterbeer. Heaven times two. I looked up at Sirius and grinned. "Adds a little punch."

Sirius laughed. "That is so you. Anyways, the reason I asked you to come meet me here tonight and spend my money was... well, at the party the other night, I thought to myself, wow, Lily Evans is pretty fucking hardcore, you know? Why haven't we hung out before? I need to get to know this girl. And, that's... it."

"Romantic," I replied, screwing the top back on and stuffing it back into my robes. "I'm pretty fucking hardcore? Thanks, now I'm not the only one who thinks so."

Sirius ran his fingers along the handle of his mug. "Hey, you're the only person I know who spikes their own butterbeer."

"I like to think of myself as original." I drank more of my butterbeer. The Absolut, believe it or not, just made the taste stronger and me a little more tipsy. God, life was the shit.

Sirius's eyes flicked over my face and gave a little snort.

I ignored him and held the maraschino cherry between my thumb and forefinger. "You know, I can tie these into a mouth just using my tongue." I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Kinky, I'm sure," Sirius answered, taking another sip of his butterbeer. "So can I."

"Shut up."

"Give it to me."

I did and took a sip of my cherry syrup soda. Surprisingly, it was good and I was having a great time opening and closing my little paper fan.

Sirius put the maraschino cherry in his mouth and I could clearly see his eyes focusing themselves to the ceiling and his mouth moving around.

As he struggled with the cherry, I enjoyed the silence, and started on all my drinks. They were all delicious, of course, but a little bland for my taste. Thank goodness I had a little more of my Absolut left and I added a dash or two to each of my drinks. You would not believe how much the taste was heightened after I added in my extra special ingredient.

Sirius put his fingers in his mouth and pulled out a cherry with, well what do you know, a knot in it.

I clapped. "Beautiful, Black. Absolutely beautiful."

"Now you can tell all your friends about it." Sirius took another swig of butterbeer.

I laughed. "Sure, why not."

It was silent again and awkward. In fact, our whole conversation had been awkward. With James, it was so easy. The words came out and what we talked about we beautiful. It was like liquid poetry sometimes. I could almost finish the ends of his sentences, but with Sirius, it was the opposite. I opened the paper fan again, marveling at it. I took another swig of butterbeer, finishing my first mug.

"Do you want some gillywater?" I asked. "I really can't finish it."

"I'm not surprised," Sirius answered. "Never seen a girl drink so much and I'm kind of craving some Absolut-mixed-with-gillywater right now, too."

"Damn, I thought I could finish this all and I haven't even started on my mead," I said.

"Sad, Evans," Sirius answered, finishing off the gillywater, and shaking his head. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "Let's just share the rest, alright? You'd probably get too drunk off it all, so let's just share the drunkenness."

Sirius took a glass of mead and drank it all, in one gulp. He didn't even burp afterwards.

I stared at him. "You're good."

He took my butterbeer and grinned. "I know."