"Yer heavy steamin', pal," laughed Angus.
"I most certainly am not," Regulus retorted, though the fact that he was swaying and trying not to trip over his own feet in an attempt to reach the table rather belied that statement.
"Aye, ya are. Yer blootered, Reg. Regu-legless. Completely oot yer tits."
"Angus, we have trouble enough understanding you when you're sober," Evan said as he helped Regulus into a seat. The latter rather unhelpfully swiped his arm across the tabletop as he sat down, sending empty bottles and glasses onto Barty who somehow remained lying comatose in a heap on the floor.
"Yer in Scotland ya fuckin' fanny baws! If ah cannae speak ma ain tongue… get tae fuck ya specky minge," Angus grumbled, and wandered off to the other side of the common room.
"What in Salazar's name is he talking about?" Evan sighed, his hands firmly on Regulus's shoulders to prevent him from standing up again.
"Get off me," Regulus insisted, "I need to go and talk to Clementine."
"Not in this state you don't."
"I do! I need to tell her — I need to tell her… what do I need to tell her, Evan?"
"Nothing, Reg. It can wait until morning."
"No, I don't think it can. I think it's something very important!"
"It's definitely not," Evan said through gritted teeth as he struggled with his friend, who was surprisingly strong after drinking almost an entire bottle of firewhisky.
"It is, I — oh! I need to tell her that she's beautiful. So very beautiful. Do you think she knows? I don't think she knows how beautiful she is. Like Aphrodite. I should tell her, Evan!"
"Fuck's sake Reg, stop squirming like the Giant Squid. Oi, Finn!" he yelled to the tall blonde boy lounging by the fireplace. "Get over here and help me carry this lump of lard to bed!"
"No!" Regulus groaned. "No, I need to talk to Clementine."
"No you don't," Thorfinn grunted, lifting Regulus up and out of his seat by his armpits. Evan took his feet, and together they carried him down the stone spiral staircase and into their dormitory. Evan took Regulus's wand, and with a muttered stupefy knocked him out cold.
"Thanks," he said, clapping the taller boy on the shoulder. "Hopefully he'll sleep that off and not remember a thing come morning. Now let's go graffiti something obscene on little Barty's face."