we were young souls (lachapelle boys)

'Montgomery James, if you go anywhere that is not your cousin's tonight, there will be consequences! We've got eyes all over town, you know." Anneli's sweet tone of voice betrayed her stern, hawklike, features. Even the woman's attempts at kindness were laced with bitterness. She was straight out of a movie screen, he had decided, just like the villains in his muggle films.

He watched with dull eyes as his parents left for Paris. Apparently there was some Ministry function going on in the city, some renowned play or another. The seventeen year old really couldn't be bothered with the details at a time like this, he was busy working out a way that he and Prosper could cause some of trouble. As far as he was concerned, his parents' actions deserved some sort of retaliation.

"Enjoy your play," Monty rolled his eyes as he peered out the upstairs window to make sure they were safely off the grounds before rushing downstairs. Apart from their house elf, he was alone and it was beautiful. The holidays were both a blessing and a curse for the Frenchman. On the one hand, he loved being home around old friends but on the other, the constant nagging was painful.

"Elm, you haven't seen a thing..." The raven haired teen shot the tiny creature a reassuring glance as he stood on his tip toes to steal from the vast Lachapelle wine collection. He had no idea what any of these bottles, dates, and descriptions meant, but wine was wine as far as he could tell. Armed with his refined taste tucked under his arm, Monty began his trek to his cousins.

Before long he was standing in front of the familiar home and flinging open the door casually. Anneli would be absolutely mortified by his manners. "Prop!" Montgomery shouted, eyes flying around the room excitedly. "As long as we are stuck here, we might as well have a bit of fun. Where are you?" He flung the bottle around dramatically."Anneli always says never show up empty handed," The teen sang quietly to himself as he inspected a new painting in the walkway.

Prosper was rifling through the cupboard when he heard his cousin fling the door open. He’d just gotten his hands on a couple of bottles of white wine that his mother had apparently hidden up here. She’d told him he could have some of the red in the lower cupboards, but he and his brother had polished that off nicely the previous night. When it came to alcohol, Prosper was as light as a feather. It hadn’t taken much more than three or so drinks for him to really feel it. “That’s Monty!” he said excitedly to his younger cousin, wiggling his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

He’d told Christophe that Monty would be coming over, but he hadn’t really explained the rest of what would probably be happening tonight. He hadn’t wanted to scare the poor boy. After a conversation they’d had a few days before the winter break, Prosper had gotten it into his head that Christophe really needed some bro time. He needed to loosen up, and who could be more apt for the role of loosening him up than his favourite older cousins? It wasn’t an intervention or anything like that, simply a nicely timed bit of fun for the three boys. He wondered briefly if his younger cousin had ever really been drunk. The idea was immensely amusing.

Bouncing down from his uncomfortable position on the kitchen bench, the seventeen year old placed one bottle on the wooden surface and moved quickly past Christophe to see his other cousin. “Mr Montgomery,” he greeted with a wide smile and a flourishing hand gesture, “excellent to see you tonight.” The boy jiggled his bottle triumphantly, noting that his counterpart had also brought a little something. It was a shame that wine was one of the most disgusting drinks that existed. Oh well.

He wasn’t drinking it to enjoy it.

Prosper flung his arms out to hug his cousin with a kind of aggressive affection that he shared only with his closest male friends. He patted him roughly on the back and then drew back, holding Monty at an arm’s length. “You’re taller,” he commented disapprovingly. With a wicked grin, the seventeen year old grabbed at the other bottle and turned to swiftly make his way back to the kitchen. “How long has it been since we’ve all been together?” he asked the others brightly. Here, Prosper was discounting little conversations and accidental meet and greets. It had surely been over a year since the three of them had spent time together intentionally and alone. They were older now.

He made swift work of pouring the three of them glasses of white wine. The smell of the drink was unappealing and Prosper wrinkled his nose in distaste, not bothering to hide his dislike. He handed Monty his glass without a word and then turned to Christophe, glass in hand, making a serious appeal with his expression. “Totopher,” he said in a dramatically somber voice. “What I have here is not simply a glass of wine, it’s a glass of brotherhood.” He took a step towards his Ombrelune cousin, not dropping his dramatic tone or expression for a moment. His movements were slow, deliberate. His eyes twinkled with mischief.

“It’s the beginning of a spec-tac-u-lar night.” The boy emphasised his words carefully, narrowing his eyes for emphasis and shooting a quick glance at Monty to back him up. “It’s a shared experience.” He pressed the glass into his younger cousin’s hands, keeping eye contact all the while. “It’s glorious.” Finally, his expression broke into a delighted smile and he stepped back, lessening the pressure on his younger cousin. The seventeen year old raised his glass to the other two, bowing his head as if they were toasting to a French win in the quidditch world cup or something similarly important.

You should visit Prosper on the holidays! Christophe heard his mother's voice echo in his head. You'll enjoy yourself. When was the last time you too saw each other outside of school? He sighed. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy Prosper’s company. He truly did, but his cousin’s interests had separated from his own some time ago. Still, now that they were older, Christophe had figured they would have more common ground to connect on. He had even been looking forward to visiting Prosper, but since he had arrived, Prosper had been avoiding his questions on the evening’s plans and giggling to himself, only revealing that Montgomery would also be visiting.

Montogomery Lachapelle. He was nice to Christophe, especially in his youth, but he had grown a little wild for the young Ombrelune’s taste. While he held nothing against Montgomery, he felt his other cousin’s rough charisma was best appreciated at a distance, where Christophe could enjoy the antics from afar. However, it had been a while since he had seen the young man, and didn’t want to enter the evening with a negative predisposition towards Montgomery, so he suppressed his concerns and focused on the sketches in his notebook in front of him.

Suddenly, Prosper exclaimed and removed himself from kitchen bench where Christophe was working, and moved around the surface, though not before making an uncomfortably animated facial expression at him. Christophe looked up to see Montgomery in the kitchen; Christophe hadn’t heard him enter. Standing, he approached his older cousin, waiting for Prosper to finish his overly enthusiastic and masculine hug before also embracing Montgomery. The young man was taller than him now, something that Prosper also noted. Christophe had always hoped he would be taller than his older cousins, but he had no such luck.

He noticed that his older cousin was holding a bottle of wine, something that Prosper also had been searching for, and he felt a wave of nerves creep into his chest again. Christophe internally remarked that he had never been drunk, though, and he felt his curiosity also bubble inside him. What were his two familial superiors planning for the evening?

“It really has been a while,” Christophe observed. Years, even, since we’ve truly spent time together, he thought to himself. He saw Prosper shuffling around the kitchen excitedly, grabbing wine glasses, and as his intentions became clearer to the young Ombrelune, the nerves began to transform into full-blown anxiety. He wondered if Montgomery had been a part of Prosper’s plan, or if he was just as unsuspecting as he was. He glanced at his other cousin, trying to gauge a reaction.

Prosper handed him a full glass and spoke to him dramatically, and Christophe noticed that he had closed the proximity between them. The Papillonlisse shot what he assumed his older cousin thought were unassuming looks at Montgomery, and Christophe felt both a sense of pride and apprehension swell inside of him. He was pleased his older cousins had wanted to spend time outside of school with him, and even though the situation made him a little uncomfortable, Christophe was not going to ruin his opportunity to show his maturity to his older cousins. Prosper had eased off now and gestured at Montgomery and himself to join him in a toast, and Christophe raised his glass in a show of solidarity. His evening had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.

Something about the way that Prosper spoke made Monty feel like he was part of something grand. Something far bigger than the reality of his teenage life, even on a good day. It had always been that way, even when they were younger, and for that he was envious. "Mr. Lachapelle, the pleasure is all mine," He responded, mirroring his cousin's tone and demeanor seamlessly as he flung an arm over his shoulders in an embrace.

"Taller?" Dark brown eyes carried lazily down his thin frame as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, positively beaming with pride. What fantastic news! As far as he concerned a couple more inches of height and a good beard was all he needed now. Then he would really be a man.

Montgomery greeted Christophe with equal enthusiasm, holding him at an arms length before breaking their contact. "Look who's all grown up!" He wiggled his eyebrows jokingly. Despite the fact that the two of them really couldn't be any more different, Monty was quite fond of Christophe. His innocence was practically begging for the bad influence that his two older cousins had perfected.

One thing was certain, the trio of boys were certainly in for an interesting night. Prosper's flare for dramatics and Monty's inability to see beyond the next ten minutes was either the best or worst combination for poor Christophe. As Prop began his charade, Monty held his glass in the air with pride as if they were passing down family secrets.

"To Lachapelle valor, pride..... fami- ah, baise," His speech was certainly short lived, but the shiny liquid in his glass proved to be far more important as he took a quick sip. Definitely not the best taste in the world, but it would serve it's purpose for the evening.

"And now..." Monty flung himself on a nearby counter with ease, being careful to not spill his precious elixir in the process. "We cut open our hands and become blood brothers!" He eyed the nearby collection of knives with a grin before his eyes flicked to Christophe casually. "Only kidding, man," Monty tutted. "That's next family meeting..." He couldn't help but laugh devilishly.

“Excellent!” Prosper exclaimed at the end of Monty’s speech, as if impressed with his cousin’s eloquence. The teenager was practically giddy with the prospect of what tonight offered. He tilted his head back and downed his drink in several unpleasant gulps, brandishing his empty glass dramatically at the others once he’d done so. “Drink up, drink up,” he encouraged impishly, cheekiness written all over his smile as he eyed Christophe’s glass. The seventeen year old wrinkled his face as he clumsily placed his glass back on the bench. Wine definitely wasn’t his drink of choice. There had only really been a couple of types of alcohol that hadn’t made him want to wash his mouth out.

He chuckled at Montgomery’s joke, glancing sidelong at Christophe to check his reaction. One drink gone and Prosper could already feel a slight buzz. Maybe he was imagining it. The boy waited for Monty to take another sip of his drink before his hand shot up to ‘help’ his cousin out. With the flick of an index finger, he tilted his cousin’s wineglass up so that he had to drink it all very quickly. “Excellent,” he said again, snatching the empty glass away and setting it down on the kitchen bench. In moments, both of their glasses were full again and Prosper was turning to the youngest of their trio and topping up his glass too. He didn’t give Christophe time to react.

“Blood brothers sounds fun,” he said, raising his eyebrows and looking over at Monty. The Papillonlisse ran his hands through his hair a couple of times, thinking. “But Christophe and I had a chat about girls a few weeks ago,” he declared, giving his younger cousin a nod. “Any luck?” The question was pointed and direct. He doubted that Christophe had managed to get anywhere so quickly, but this was Prosper’s way of segueing into a more interesting topic. He picked his glass up off of the bench, swirling the liquid inside it around and around like he was some kind of wine connoisseur. Eventually he glanced at Montgomery with an accusative finger pointed his way. “Anything going on with you and Miss Jauregi that we should know about?” Prosper wrapped an arm around Christophe and gave him a rough squeeze, effortlessly including him in the conversation.

As Christophe noticed his queasiness was not settling, Montgomery Lachapelle leapt onto the counter and began to tease him, indicating to the young man he wished to participate in some sort of blood ritual. He chuckled nervously; from his cousin's beleaguered tone he knew that Monty was joking, but something about his wicked laugh indicated to Christophe that he might just be willing to dabble in those sorts of nefarious arts. Then he shook his head. What was he thinking? His cousin was just kidding around. He reexamined his cousin's face, and Monty's kind eyes reassured him of the joke.

The other two boys had already begun to finish their drinks. Christophe gingerly raised his glass and took a sip. Disgusting, he thought. There was a reason why he never drank; alcohol tasted like garbage. Then he noticed both Prosper and Montgomery's eyes on him (or so he thought), and he felt an overwhelming need to polish off his drink. Bracing himself, he tilted back his head and tipping the glass' contents into his mouth, he swallowed. Immediately he felt ill, but as the sensation passed, a warmth spread from his oesophagus to his stomach. Christophe was surprised by how much he enjoyed it, and he was impressed at how quickly Prosper had refilled the trio's glasses. It made him laugh; he was starting to enjoy himself.

As quickly as the feeling of enjoyment had arrived, Prosper's question had brought Christophe back to a state of embarrassment. He knew Prosper's intentions were good, trying to include Christophe in a topic all of the present company could participate in, but he honestly hadn't even been attempting to engage the girls in his class. He was still trying to work up the nerve. It was a strange feeling for the young Ombrelune, not being able to talk to someone. Only when he had started to think about approaching girls romantically did he suffer from the self-inflicted aphasia. The closest he had been to a conversation with his female classmates was when a girl in his Métaphysiques class had asked to borrow a quill. Christophe had responded only with a squeak, before passing her a spare quill of his own.

"Uh, you know, a few conversations in class with some girls. Nothing special," Christophe responded, not technically lying even though it definitely felt like it. He was either blushing or he could feel the warmth of the alcohol spreading to his cheek, and he was pleased when Prosper switched the focus to Montgomery. Finally feeling the drink reach his head, Christophe relaxed, and waited for his older cousin's response as Prosper pulled him into a semi-hug.

Chocolate colored eyes carefully studied the youngest Lachapelle cousin, narrowing at the sight of of any fidgeting or blushing. Both were abundant, he noted with a small smile. Christophe was the least outlandish of the three boys, and it was clear he was taken aback by their abrasive behavior. The way Montgomery saw it, it was a necessary initiation process. A set of unique lessons and tests that he Prosper were more than happy to implement.

Admittedly, the two older boys had carried out multiple conversations about how they might corrupt poor Christophe, of course, on the down low. Holiday break seemed like an opportune time to really put the wheels in motion.

Monty eagerly handed Prosper his now empty glass, ready for more of the wine despite it's foul taste. He figured the more he drank, the better it would be. Someone along the way had told him the beverage was an acquired taste, and he reminded himself of that as he palmed the counter so that he was leaned closer to the conversation. Any mention of females and he was automatically more attentive.

Sipping casually on his newly replenished drink, the dark haired Frenchmen ran a hand through his hair. "In class?!" Monty nearly spat out the liquid from his mouth before continuing through coughs. "Christophe, I hope you weren't actually talking about... class with them? "He questioned as a smirk tugged on the corner of his lip. Sure, that worked for some guys, maaaaybe, but Montgomery was not one of them. He was far too invested in extra curricular activities for that.

"Well, I suppose that's alright," Monty's eyes shot to the ceiling in thought, rethinking his assumption. Perhaps baby steps would be better than throwing the poor guy to the wolves right away. "Make any dates for the holiday, then?" He wiggled his eyebrows. "Prop's practically best friends with every girl at school, I'm sure he could put in a good word?" Monty's eyes flashed to the other Lachapelle, humor twinkling in them with ease.

Montgomery took his time taking a lengthy sip of his wine at the mention of a certain Jauregi lady. "Nala?" He repeated cooly. "Oh, you know, we are just friends," The teenager began to explain before a devilish grin spread over his features. "But you have seen her, right? Can't blame a guy..." Monty shrugged his shoulders, working on the assumption that it was common knowledge that he and the Basque girl had spent a few nights together.

"And what about you Prosper?" He turned the attention back to the boy who had thus far been asking most of the questions. "Still hung up that lady Deveaux?" Monty wasted no time getting the point. He knew that Prop was dating someone else, but there was certainly more to the situation than just that.

“Leave the kid alone!” Prosper shot at his cousin with a grin, giving Christophe a couple of light squeezes and pointing his wine glass at Monty accusingly. Already, his volume had increased a little, and some wine sloshed around in his glass from his flourishing movements. “I think class is a perfectly fine place to talk to girls,” he reassured his younger cousin playfully, “About fifty percent of the people there are girls, and they’re probably in your house. Just… keep talking to them,” he added. The teenager’s grin widened as Monty mentioned that he was friends with every girl in school. He ducked his chin and wiggled his glass, shaking his head and feigning humbleness to the max. “You speak too highly of me, sir,” he protested in a humble whisper.

When they talked about Nala, the boy smiled, aware of exactly what Monty was saying. Nala was a pretty girl, but she really wasn’t Prosper’s type at all. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d had a crush on a blonde, (though he was sure she used to have brown hair!). Prosper didn’t know what it was about ballet girls that was a turn off for him, but there had to be something. Maybe he liked softer bodies. Legs that weren’t so muscular. He wasn’t sure what it was, but the only dancing girl he’d ever been into was Elisa, and that hadn’t lasted long anyway.

“Zoé?” Prosper said, mimicking his cousin’s coolness of tone with scary ease. The boy raised his wineglass to his lips and tilted his head back, drinking deeply enough to finish the liquid before setting the glass down on the kitchen bench top hard. “Zoé’s cool. She’s fine.” He shrugged dramatically, letting go of Christophe’s shoulders to his hands up in surrender. “Sure, I had it pretty bad for that girl last year, but Lucia…” a slow, cheeky smile spread across the boy’s lips, again echoing his cousin’s devilish expression. His hands dropped to his sides as he gave another shrug, this one much smaller and more enigmatic. He was exchanging a look with Monty that didn’t need words to explain. The seventeen year old glanced at the youngest of the trio curiously, wondering what Christophe was making of all of this. Even his less socially skilled cousin could appreciate Lucia’s looks, surely. “Drink up,” he encouraged, trying to ignore his own slightly unsettled stomach. Two glasses of wine was enough for Prosper to be gesturing more emphatically and speaking louder. Already, he was ready to go on an adventure.

Looking back at Montgomery, he added, “Luci’s coming to stay next week for a few days… Parents are staying in Paris to help Adrien settle in for most of that time.” Prosper remembered vividly his mother’s little chat about being safe. They’d had the same chat when he went to Paris with Zara, not that that was at all necessary. He wondered briefly if it was strange that he felt much more comfortable talking about that sort of stuff with his mother than his father? He’d told his mother about the whole Maria debacle and the fact that they hadn’t been safe for about eighty percent of their interactions, but he hadn’t said a word to his dad. Last time he and Lucia had gotten a little handsy in his bedroom, she’d ended up crying and freaking out about the fact that she hadn’t done it before. He’d told Monty about this, of course, but Christophe had no idea. The seventeen year old was sure that it would be different this time, though, and it was difficult to keep a little smugness out of his expression. He told himself it was the wine.

Prosper leant back against the wall opposite the bench, linking his hands together behind his head. His pose was the perfect picture of casualness and confidence. “We should go somewhere fun,” he suggested off-handly, “As soon as we’ve finished those.” He nodded at the bottles, his grey eyes flicking from cousin to cousin curiously.

Christophe panicked; Montgomery had gotten to him. He had only been talking to the girls about what was going on in class, in a roundabout way. What was he supposed to have talked about? There were so many rules he just didn't know; why didn't someone compose a book with all the guidelines in one place? That way Christophe would at least have all the information in one handy location and wouldn’t feel so left in the dark. If he was more acquainted with the subject of dating, he would definitely capitalise on this currently unexplored aspect of the market. Maybe he would encourage Prosper to take up writing as a hobby?

Monty was grinning at the younger Lachapelle to demonstrate his good nature, but the comment stuck with the young man. He would certainly be addressing this at a later point, and fortunately Prosper was much more supportive of Christophe in regards to talking to girls in class. It was nice to have backup.

“I certainly didn’t make any dates!” Christophe blurted out, somewhat more stridently than he had anticipated. More quietly, he continued, saying, “I’m not quite there yet.” He could feel the alcohol affecting him already, and that did not bode well for what he guessed his cousins had planned for the rest of the evening. Despite this, he continued to sip at his glass, trying to polish off his drink as quickly as possible. He certainly didn’t want to be left behind by his older cousins, not when they were finally treating him like an adult.

Christophe listened intently as his superiors bantered; they made him chuckle. It was as if they were performing intentionally in juxtaposition. Montgomery spoke so collectedly, while Prosper’s giddy energy was clearly becoming harder and harder to contain. It may very well have been the same alcohol that was warming Christophe’s chest as to the reason he was beginning to enjoy himself so much, but that mattered very little to him. He was finally connecting with Prosper and Monty. He was not particularly separated from the boys in his childhood, but he definitely wanted to be closer with his cousins, and tonight it was all coming together. While he was aware he remained an observer to most of the conversation, he did not feel he was an outsider, and that is what was most important. Looking at the last remaining mouthful of his drink before quickly pouring it into his mouth, he tried to swallow as quickly as possible, but the liquid washed over his tongue and the sour taste of the wine enveloped his tastebuds. He tried to avoid gagging as it would be far too embarrassing in front of Monty and Prosper. They probably liked the taste of wine.

Then, Prosper suggested “going somewhere fun.” Christophe was sure the Papillonlisse’s idea of somewhere fun was different to his, though the alcohol had the young man brimming with confidence, and he was much less apprehensive of the idea than he would have been sober. Christophe, enjoying the newfound self-assuredness, shoved his now empty glass Prosper’s direction. “Fill me up?” he inquired, mimicking his cousin’s cheeky tone of voice, while wiggling his eyebrows at Monty. There was plenty to drink, and Christophe had something to prove.

As Prosper got into his dramatic speech about his girlfriend, Montgomery found himself unintentionally moving forward with anticipation, hanging on every word like his life depended on it The seventeen year old hadn't even realized just how tightly he was gripping onto the ledge of the counter until he needed a hand to bring the glass a shimmering liquid to his mouth. No matter what female was the subject, the conversation about girls had grown more and more exciting to him as he matured into his late teens. Hormones, his mother called them.

"She's staying here... while your parents are... away....?" The raven haired wizard peered up from the wine glass that he held in front of his mouth, daring to take another swig. "And they know about it?" He continued, now dropping the beverage to his side in disbelief. "Anneli would have my head for that one," Monty declared, flashing eyes between his two cousins before letting out a dramatic heave. Certainly, they knew how his mother was.

Montgomery finished the last of his wine with a smug smile, relishing in the warmth that was spreading through his chest to the rest of his limbs. It wasn't until he noticed how little he tasted the bitter drink anymore that he realized there was a chance he was getting drunk. The teenager gave a quick once over of his two cousins, to make sure that they were feeling just as good. Based on their cheeky little smiles, mission accomplished.

"Ah give it time Christophe, you'll get there!" He assured with an over exaggerated nod and grin. Just then, Prosper piped up again, and this time Monty was even more interested in what he had to say. Somewhere fun. Fun was right up his alley. "I do have a few things to get done... just... band stuff..." The wizard began cautiously, choosing his words very carefully as to not give anything away. "More wine! Then we go. Oh! And we have to make this top secret... I'm kind of on Lachapelle house arrest," He added flippantly, hopping from the counter and swaying over to the bottle of wine.

As Monty leaned to fill Prop's glass, he whispered his plans to the boy's ear in a manner that was far more suspicious than he intended. Pulling away with a grin, the Frenchmen then waited for his two cousins to finish off their glasses before clapping his hands together loudly. "Are we off then?" Monty didn't even wait for a response -- and before Christophe could protest they were apparating.

Montgomery held onto his cousins as they were catapulted through time and space but before he could even feel the sickness of the ride, they were thrown into a dark alley, just out of eyesight of the bustling Paris crowds. "Ah close enough, this way boys!" He shook the feeling of nausea off by wiggling his body around. Before long they were right under a flickering, fluorescent sign that read 'Royal Tattoo Studio.' "Best one in Paris," Monty swung around nonchalantly before swinging open the door.

“Yes she is,” Prosper replied smugly, pleased with Monty’s disbelieving reaction. He was both aware of the fact that he was being indulged by his older cousin and delighted with the fact. Montgomery never did let him down. “They know. I told you Zara and I went to Paris together last summer didn’t I?” Prosper scratched his head absentmindedly, realising that this was probably not the case. “…Huh… maybe not.” He shrugged. “…Anyway. My parents don’t mind. At least Mum doesn’t. Father dear doesn’t really have any say there… thank Merlin.” The boy gave his cousin a significant look, indicating that this really was something to be thankful for. The boys knew that Prosper’s mother was the cooler parent of the two, and they were also pretty aware that his mother was the coolest mother that any of them had. The idea made his grin a little wider. Since Lucia had indicated her interest in staying at his house for a while these holidays, Prosper’s mind had been pretty focused on the fact.

The curly haired boy finished his third drink and immediately moved onto his next. Now that he had a few in his system, it was getting easier and easier to finish these glasses. It might as well have tasted like water, and Prosper couldn’t feel his cheeks. A happy swell of emotion bubbled up in his chest as the boy watched his cousins interacting. “You’ll be fine,” he agreed loudly, giving Christophe what he hoped was a reassuring look and was in fact probably more like an intense leer. “We’ll set you up,” he declared, flicking his grey eyes to meet Monty’s. Silently, he double checked this with his cousin.

Prosper was told where they were going and his eyes lit up with mischief. “Cheeky rascal,” he commented playfully. Monty was an idiot, but Prosper was just as bad. The seventeen year old laughed out loud, finishing off yet another glass of wine as soon as he stopped giggling. He put an arm around Christophe again as he patted his own pockets looking for his wand. Apparating drunk was always a bad idea, but once inebriated, Prosper had no concept of good or bad ideas. “I like this,” he said vaguely, giving Christophe an affectionate squeeze. “Family outing.” And with that, they were off. Prosper’s feet hit the ground and he let go of his cousin immediately, a hand reaching out for something to steady himself on as he tried not to throw up. A few deep breaths later, the boy felt the nausea recede and was good to go again. He straightened up, skipped ahead and bounced right into the tattoo studio.

“You guys do walk ins, don’t you?” he asked loudly, gesturing wildly around the shop with open palms. He knew for a fact that this tattoo parlour did walk-ins. Prosper and Monty had discussed this place a few times before, joking about getting something matching together and never actually intending on doing it. Suddenly, he was struck with an amazing idea. The curly-haired boy turned to his cousins and fixed his silvery eyes on them one at a time. “Lachapelle family crest,” he said seriously, a finger pointing at them, daring them to challenge his fantastic idea. “Lachapelle family crest!” he confirmed dramatically, turning back to the heavily tattooed girl at the counter. “I’ll draw it for you.” Prosper took a couple of steps forward and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen off of the counter. The paper was actually a flyer for a nearby piercing shop, but there was plenty of blank space to draw.

The boy waved his hand at Monty, ordering his housemate to turn around. Prosper used his back like a table as he got to work, scribbling intensely on the paper until he was done. After a second, the teenager stopped and looked at the mess he’d made on the paper. “Shit,” he commented lightly, a grin creeping across his lips slowly. “What in Merlin’s name does the crest look like?”

Christophe’s cousins continued to banter, all the while waving their expensive wine glasses and jeering at each other. The youngest Lachapelle was feeling a little nauseous, and his hands and tongue were quickly losing feeling. He had never had this much to drink before, and certainly not in such a short amount of time. Realising if he were to move quickly, he would almost definitely fall to the floor, Christophe shifted himself slowly towards the edge of the closest bench, leaning against it with his back, before sidling awkwardly to a more comfortable position. Relaxing, he looked towards his cousins and noticed that their animated gesturing was blurring into trails.

After significantly more effort was afforded to the task, Christophe managed to focus on Montgomery and Prosper just as the latter burst into laughter. Christophe had not heard Monty’s joke, but he didn’t want to feel excluded, so he himself began to laugh. This only prompted his cousins to laugh even harder, and he felt confirmed in his decision to join in. He smiled. He was enjoying the company of his cousins more than ever, though he felt that may partially be due to the alcohol.

Before he had noticed the wine bottle Monty was holding, Christophe’s cousin had refilled the boys’ glasses and quickly downed his own, followed by Prosper. In a split second, the enormous pressure to swallow every last drop of wine in his glass hit Christophe, so he threw back his head and gulped the disgusting liquid down. Instantly, he felt violently ill, which was worsened by the fact that he seemed to be hurtling through some sort of wormhole. Christophe briefly wondered if he had fallen over before he was spat onto the pavement in some alley, desperately attempting not to stumble over and simultaneously throw up. Miraculously, he avoided doing either and he leant his head against the wall and tried to catch his breath. He still felt quite sick as he was being dragged into some sort of building by his cousins.

Christophe looked around the store. It was a little cramped and poorly lit, so he had to squint to make out some of the items. He ran his gaze over a wall plastered with images of burly men and 50’s styled women, both covered in tattoos. A little too late did Christophe realise they were standing in the middle of a tattoo parlour, and before he could turn to his cousins and protest, Prosper had already snatched up a piece of paper and was using Monty’s back as a drawing apparatus. ”Oh no,” he thought. ”Oh no no no no no.” Christophe had never fancied the idea of a tattoo, but even if he did ever decide to get one, he would plan it for months in advance, and it certainly wouldn’t be one of Prospers horrible drawings.

He stumbled over to Montgomery and attempted to protest their decision. “Monty, I don’t think we should…” he slurred haphazardly, before clutching his hands over his mouth as the threat of vomiting on the floor of the parlour became a real possibility. He shot a worrying glance at his cousins. He desperately needed to find a way out of this situation.