Not Mine… None of it… and I certainly have never been this drunk… honest. *shifty eyes*
A.N – Like Hangai pointed out, things are about to get a bit serious (stop giggling)… but before all of that I decided the boys, and my readers, deserved a little fun.
Part Seven- Don't Stop Me NowJames Potter was still holding his head. Twenty-four hours after his stag night and he still felt and looked bloody awful. Most of the night was pretty hazy, but some things stood out, and he couldn't help but smile as he remembered his favourite of all of them.
It wasn't when a drunken Mad-Eye tackled the stripper just as she emerged from the cake. His magical eye swivelling wildly in his head, his long hair streaming behind as they crashed into the bar, followed by whistles, laughter, cat-calls and a few cries of "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"
It wasn't the impromptu strip-tease turned musical number Sirius sang with a wobbly voice, dancing on wobblier legs as he ran, largely naked through the streets. Remus with his pants, and a couple of bobbies with truncheons, in hot pursuit.
It wasn't when Remus had somehow managed to tape Sirius to a lamp-post. The ex-heir to the noble and most ancient house of black dangling upside-down, his feet 'walking' in the air. His arms tucked in at his sides. His eyes shining with indignant, and impotent, rage. His body shining in the light, the several feet of tape reflecting the light from above. Sirius' hair forming an inky-black pool at the base of the post. Remus' face flushed with drink pulled into a gleeful smile as he pointed and laughed at his handiwork.
It wasn't when Pete accosted a statue of some general or another and demanded "Watchoo Lookin' at?" Before he speculated on the marble gentleman's mothers' sexual history and made a few disparaging remarks about the man's intelligence, or lack thereof. And then punching him right in his (literally) chiselled jaw. Result: three broken fingers and peals of laughter drowning out his howls of pain.
And it certainly wasn't when James and Pete made the mistake of turning around after they heard a muffled "Accio mattress." Come from Sirius as he and Remus walked behind them. They saw something that not only meant they couldn't look Remus in the eye for a week to come, but also had James marvelling at just how quickly two drunken young men could get undressed.
No, it was later, after he woke up the next morning. The sunlight shouldered its way into his skull via his eyes and was mercilessly stomping on his frontal lobe when Lily appeared at the door. Her auburn hair neat, cascading down her back, her green eyes surveying him with a mixture of amusement and pity, her slender body draped by a simple white nightgown , her slender hands bore a tray. This tray held a dose of Poppy Pomfrey's never-fail Hangover Cure and a plate of bacon and eggs, both of which were handed to him with a kiss. His favourite memory of his stag night was coming back to Lily, being enfolded in her arms, knowing that he was the luckiest man alive.
Knowing that no matter what his future held, it would never be too much so long as she was by his side.