DISCLAIMER: Anything you recognise belongs to JKR.
Written for the Relate challenge on HPFC
Characters: Sirius and Mulciber
"Go shut your face you prejudiced wanker."
Even Sirius could hear the slurring of his words that suggested he was drunk. Perhaps even more drunk than Mulciber, whose parents were more restraining and watchful so that he had to sneak his glasses of alcoholic punch. Sirius had never bothered with sneaking; it just wasn't his style. And when he walked blatantly up to the bowl and scooped himself out a glass at his thirteenth annual Black Family Christmas Party all he got was a few raised eyebrows and a disapproving look from Father. Uncle Alphard had even laughed and raised his own, rather larger glass to the heir of house Black.
Two years on he didn't even get that. As he raised his glass to his lips—his sixth? seventh? he lost track a while back—he saw Mulciber lurch at him from the corner of his eye. The Slytherin boy was about his height, but nearly half again his weight, most of it muscle from the Quidditch pitch. Still, Sirius felt he didn't do too badly, landing a sweet punch to the eye and a solid knee in the stomach before they were magically dragged apart. He could feel the blood trickling from his nose and split lip as they were frog-marched from the magically expanded ballroom for a yelling by their respective mothers, and couldn't resist sticking his foot out to trip the bastard as they were steered through the door.
The bigger boy snarled and fumbled for a wand that wasn't there; ever since the Christmas following his sorting into Gryffindor the parents had taken all the children's wands at these sorts of events. Though Sirius wasn't sure if he would be any good at duelling right now. His head was reaching that fuzzy stage where tomorrow would bring memory gaps and punishing headaches.
As he zoned out his mother's shouts of "good for nothing trouble-maker", "failing to uphold the family name" and "disreputable Gryffindor," he considered what his life might be like had his sorting gone to plan. It had taken a great deal of negotiation and wheedling to stop his mother withdrawing him from Hogwarts and packing him off to Durmstrang to 'ensure his proper education'.
At first Sirius had been equally delighted and a little perturbed by his House. He had always hated the restrictiveness of the pureblood society he had been raised in, and despised the thought of spending his free hours with his older cousin Narcissa, overbearing, violent Mulciber, and that Oberon cow and her repulsive older sister who wanted to marry into the family. But when he went to write his first History essay and realised Avery wasn't there to reel off a hundred useful facts, or when he discovered that the only times he saw Drommy was across the hall at dinner he sometimes felt a little wave of loneliness. He actually missed talking to Elwick Donnovan and Larry Quick, though the latter's shock sorting into Ravenclaw had caused similar family rumblings to Sirius's.
The feeling had lasted less than a month, and now he couldn't imagine not living with James, Peter and Remus. They were brothers more than best friends, especially Prongs, who knew and understood him far better than Reg ever tried to. Yes, he was glad he didn't have to share a confined space with Mulciber's temper tantrums and Snivellus.
When Mother directed him to apologise to the gathered guests for causing a scene he muttered the words with a glare and took the opportunity to try and crush Mulciber's fingers. When they stepped apart, both massaging their fingers, Sirius headed straight for the punch-bowl, ignoring Reg's determined tug on his robes as he attempted to drown out the remainder party the only way he could.