Summary: Sirius got bored a lot and took up an unusual sport to pass the time.
Rated: K
Genre: Humor
Warning Tag: References Drunkenness
Competition/Challenge Block:
Written for/Stacked with: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Term 14); Monthly Challenges for All (Year 4)
Hogwarts: Ravenclaw; A10 - A Study of Magical Objects #4: Write about someone showing cunning. (restriction: the character can't be a Slytherin)
MC4A: In a Flash (Y); Bucket Listing (Y); Two Cakes (Y); Eating Cake (Y); Rian-Russo Inversion; Lunar Era (Y); LEO MC; Gryffindor MC; Hufflepuff MC; Old Shoes (Y)
Word Count: 521
Author's Note: This will be my 50th drabble for this collection. Huzzah and it's randomness!
Spitballing
It was early in the morning, Sirius was half-awake in the dining chair he pulled from the kitchen over to the sitting room entrance and balanced it wobbly on two legs while tearing small pieces of paper off to roll into balls. He proceeded to pop them in his mouth, grabbing the straw from his lap, and putting one end to his lips. Using his tongue to load one of the damp paper balls into the straw's end, he aimed it at the portrait of Walburga on the other side of the hall and let out a big puff of air. The spitwad flew toward it's target… sort of, as it smashed against the ornate frame instead.
The shrieking from the portrait had long fallen on deaf ears, Sirius was bordering blackout drunk at that point to hear her slurs and insults anymore. Loading another, he tried again, this time it hit her hair and he chuckled slightly at that. He was too unfocused and unalert to notice the sound of the front door opening and closing, too busy making more paper balls to moisten and shoot.
"Ow!"
Sirius shot straight up in his seat, wincing when the back of the chair slapped against his back. The portrait never sounded like that before. Giving his head a little shake and scrubbing his face with his hands, a woman soon came into view with bubblegum pink hair. She was rubbing the side of her neck, making a face when she tossed the spitwad onto the floor.
"Wotcher! That bloody dang hurt, mate!" she said, moving toward him. "Got some power behind that."
He chuckled lightly, reaching for the nearly empty bottle on the floor. "Sorry. Got nothin' better to do around here. Target practice seemed like fun."
Tonks looked at Walburga's portrait covered in drying paper wads, her person fuming from the disrespect and contempt she was receiving.
"What brings you here so early?" Sirius questioned, swishing the amber liquid in the bottle. "Meeting isn't until later."
"Well, it is three o'clock," Tonks pointed out, watching him warily. "Figured you could use some company."
"Bollocks," he slurred out. "You're jus' waiting for Remus."
"Rude, and untrue," Tonks rebuttaled. "What's to say I didn't want to see my favourite cousin?"
Sirius chuckled at that, abandoning his bottle to reload his spitwad straw gun.
"Betya you can't hit her mouth," Tonk said, nudging her elbow against his shoulder.
"Pfft, I've been tryin' all day."
"Maybe some water then," she said and headed for the kitchen.
He took aim then, trying for her mouth and let it fly. It hit her neck and he let out a sigh. Giving up for the time being, he leaned down to collect the bottle, only to sit upright enough to see a spitwad fly through the air and slamming right into his mother's portrait-painted mouth. He let out a snort at the sight, turning to see a very smug Tonks looking at him with a straw of her own in hand.
"Easy peasy," she said, handing him a glass of water. "Let's get you taken care of now."