[maidstone] crashing | magnolia

(cw: underage alcohol use)

April 2004

She went to the party without him, and Isaac was still mad about it. It had been two hours, and he was still pissed off, but whatever, he had a plan. He’d taken the floo to Hampstead and annoyed Jae until he agreed to crash the party with him. From there, the pair met some friends in London who could apparate and ended up at the party hours after it started. It was fine. The teenager spent a whole thirty minutes pretending he wasn’t there to find Magnolia before he finally gave in. He’d lost his jacket at the door, it was cold outside, but the old house (crowded with too many teenagers) was warm enough. He’d picked up a beer, drank half of it, and told someone it was his third. And he’d left Duncan in whatever smoke circle he’d found two seconds after they got in the door. Who knew where Jae went.

Checking the living room (or did they call it a parlor in fancy places like this?) and not finding her, Isaac kept moving, and then he heard her laugh. By now, the teenager could pick out her laugh from of a crowd in a second. Finding her in the kitchen, in between another of their classmates and some people he didn’t recognize, he saw her mixing light and dark alcohol like it was a game, and the wizard almost smiled and then remembered he was still mad at her. Isaac finished the last of his first beer and set the empty glass on the counter even though the refuse bin was not two steps away.

“Make me one?” He asked, pushing through the others so he could see her and his eyes trailed down the dress she had on. The teenager had never been a fan of bright colors, but honestly, he liked anything Magnolia wore. The cat ears were a little weird, though.

@Magnolia Lane Hawkins

“What do you mean I can’t take the books out of the library? What else are you s’pose to do with them, then?” she asked incredulously to her newly acquired companion, some girl she had met on the way in when she had lost Mavis and one, she’d been running into on the hour ever since. “I doubt anyone’s going to miss Witchy Cocktails, anyway,” she shrugged, adding the last touches to a neon green drink she had just “mastered” and pushing it in the direction of any soul willing to drink it. If only feeding people, her experimental cookies were this easy she would have become a certified patisserie by now! But giving experimental drinks to drunk teenagers was decidedly easier.

Though Magnolia was not the sort to (wo)man the kitchen, there was little else to do when her best friend was missing in action and her other friends were wandering around in various stages of intoxication. She had tried drinking the beer but she never cared for the bubbly liquid anyway and had wandered into the fancy space for something much sweeter and a whole lot more pleasant to drink. Or at least that was what she had told herself as she wandered around the house, taking the long way to her destination wondering if “you-know-who” would show up. She would have invited him had their relationship (where they calling it that?) were in any way valid but instead, Magnolia found herself hesitating, aware that the last time she had tried to invite him out to a party he had assumed it was a date.

That was New Year’s Eve but then again, she still got her semi-happy ending after all the fuss. But this was different; Magnolia wasn’t sure how he’d feel surrounded by her closest friends and at their mercy. Naturally, she hadn’t told anyone about what they’d been up to on and off during the semester which didn’t really help things, either. Was inviting him weird? Or, was actively not inviting him worse? This was hard to navigate.

One of the boys across the counter made it his mission to drink the half-consumed concoction on the table and everyone in her vicinity cheered him on, Magnolia bursting into laughter as he made a face, “Sorry, I think I might’ve let that sit out too long,” she shrugged semi-apologetically. But as she turned the page in the book to the next fancy drink she’d attempt with the ingredients available to her, she heard a voice she knew she’d recognize anywhere.

“Sure, what’s your poison?” she said, only glancing at him and smiling awkwardly before returning to the task at hand. “Or are we feeling adventurous?”

"Sure, what's your poison?" Magnolia had asked, and Isaac nearly said 'crazy as shit witches with cat ears on’, but stopped himself. "You pick," He told her instead, but the teenager knew he would come to regret that decision, especially after seeing the kid who'd tested her last concoction headed for the sink. He watched him for a second before turning back to Magnolia and the book she was reading out of. Leave it to Nola to bring cocktail recipes to a party; Isaac smirked at the thought and pulled the book away from her to flip through the pages.

"But nothing with gin," Eyes still on the glossy pages of her books, he scoffed at the recipe and turned the page. He hadn't been drunk that many times before, but certainly enough to almost remember the only time he'd had gin. A night he couldn't recall followed by a hangover he'd never forget, the sixteen-year-old still hadn't forgiven Duncan and the others. Looking back up at Magnolia, he gave her a look and spoke again. "I am serious." It wasn't even like Isaac wanted to get drunk tonight, but he did want reasons to hang around Magnolia longer, and for some bizarre reason, they weren't fighting (yet), and he liked that too.

Then again, they had only been around each other for two minutes, and Isaac's mouth never knew when to quit. "Who put you in charge of drinks anyway?" He asked, smiling at her in that way that made it clear he was teasing, but it still wasn't the nicest thing he could have said.

“Adventurous, I see,” she teased, before flipping through the pages happily to find the scariest-looking drink in the book. Of course, there was none to be found though there was something about a Halloween Cocktails edition and she wondered if the library had splurged on the whole set or if they’d only gotten the first one. In all honesty, Magnolia wasn’t really sure how this copy ended up in the library, but she wasn’t about to take it back now. He’d said no to gin and though she was tempted to secretly put it in there just to see why not, she wasn’t that evil. No, that was Slytherin territory, and she wanted no part of that sort of reputation.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard you the first time,” she rolled her eyes at him, but she had, indeed, listened to what he was saying. “Doubt we’re allowed near the fancy stuff anyway, we’ve got firewhiskey though, I’ve been watering it down with beer, seems to do the trick,” she shrugged, pointing in the corner at the gaggle of red-faced giggling strangers talking loudly among themselves, “Looks like I should’ve gotten an Outstanding in Potions but whatever,” she muttered, still a little sour about that abominable grade she had received in the class. Technically, she hadn’t tried that hard but she would have been much more involved if she had gotten the opportunity to make cute, glittery, girly drinks.

“What about this one? Look how pretty it is,” she pointed at a lavender-colored drink, “says I need vodka, but I think whiskey’s just as good?” she offered, gathering the ingredients she had before he could protest. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she gave him a look and put a hand on her hip making it obvious that she wasn’t pleased with what he was saying. “I’m bored,” she confessed finally, “And Mavis’ gone Merlin knows where,” she shrugged. “Look,” she pointed at her cat ears that had been charmed to move, “aren’t these the cutest?”

Firewhiskey watered down with beer; Isaac rolled that thought around for a moment and ended up laughing. "Sounds healthy," He offered, though he was pretty sure at least one of those girls in the corner was going to pass out before the night was over. Not that he was worried, he'd counted at least seven different Gryffindor Do-Gooders since he'd gotten here; the party patrol was out in force. "If you brew that like you make potions, count me out," Isaac said, shaking his head at her as she turned back from watching the giggling girls in the corner. He'd seen Magnolia in potions (okay, yes, he was staring, whatever), and she was a bloody menace behind a cauldron.

"Uh, no?" He half asked, half told her, but it didn't matter because Magnolia was already pouring it. Whiskey and vodka were so different, Isaac was no cocktail artist, but he was pretty sure that one wasn't as good as the other. He was also pretty sure she was going to make it no matter what he said. He resigned to be thankful that with the dark liquid instead of the clear one, at least it wouldn't be light purple and girly looking anymore. So he had that going for him.

Teasing her like always and laughing at her response, Isaac shrugged his shoulders. "Means whatever you want it to mean." Which wasn't actually an answer, but Magnolia put her hand on her hip, and he laughed again. Maybe that one drink had put him in a better mood. Or perhaps he was just happy to see her. Whatever. "You are bored? Not sure if you know this Magnolia, but you are at a party." Magnolia was the type of witch who always seemed like she was flying faster than everyone else, always hyper, always excited. She had the kind of energy that made others want to join in and made usually made Isaac exhausted, but tonight he found it incredibly endearing.

Even her stupid cat ears were cute, but he wouldn't admit it. "Sure, but why are you wearing them?"

“I mean…I guess?” she gave him a shrug, she hadn’t done it for health reasons, she was probably the unhealthiest eater she knew but she wasn’t about to have a conversation with Isaac about what she liked to eat and didn’t—hadn’t he sort of guessed from what she had ordered at the diner? Did he remember the diner? Well, she wasn’t going to be asking him first. “Fine, no beer for you,” she decided, pouring in a little more firewhiskey than she might have, a roundabout way of telling him that he was special enough to get all of the good alcohol and none of the cheap stuff but she wasn’t sure if he’d get it or think she was trying to get him drunk. But if getting him drunk meant she’d get to do a little of what that teen couple in the corner was doing when she had glanced up earlier, she wanted to count herself in.

Either way, Magnolia was going to make him drink her concoction because she’d made it especially for him, and for a moment all of that practice she’d been doing finally felt like it could mean something. Or maybe she was still tipsy and overdramatizing everything like usual. Either way, she wasn’t going to say a word. Mixing the ingredients (or at least the ones she had) to her liking, she pushed the drink in his direction. “I dare you,” she teased, though she was fully prepared to get offended if he said something that suggested he didn’t want it. She’d gone out of her way, surely he’d appreciate that.

“Yeah, I am,” she nodded, but she wasn’t really sure why she wasn’t out there drinking to her heart's content and dancing on tabletops like she might have otherwise. Maybe it was because her best friend was nowhere to be found or maybe because she had been a bit bummed knowing that Isaac wouldn’t be coming to the party, but he was here now and really that was way better than the party anyway. “But you’re here now so--” she shrugged again, giving him a smile in return. That had sounded way more involved than she had intended and he’d probably make a big deal out of it but that was the truth. Yeah, yeah, she was majorly crushing on Isaac and he’d probably notice ions ago.

“Sure as in they’re cute?” She asked for clarification but the smile on her face made it obvious she didn’t need it, “Because Jae told me the party had a theme and I believed him, rude,” she frowned a little at the thought. “But doesn’t matter because Queen Victoria would have totally approved,” she teased. “Wanna try them on?” she reached for the headband.

It probably would have been better if he had been quiet and accepted the mixture she offered initially. Then again, many things probably would have been better if Isaac just kept his mouth shut. Instead, his words got him into trouble again, and Magnolia skipped the beer part of the drink, leaving him with basically just firewhiskey and whatever made it sparkle in his plastic cup. Honestly, he was unsure what to be warier of the copious amounts of liquor she had just poured for him or the sparkly substance.

She passed it to him and tacked on an extra dare for good measure, but Isaac scrunched his face up at her. "Yeah, okay, Gryffindor," He said with a snort as if a dare could get him to something he wasn't already planning on doing. Though, that look on her face might have been enough to convince him. Isaac stopped himself from staring by reaching for the cup. The dark liquid swished around the plastic, leaving sparkles on the rim, and he pulled another face. He'd been standing right there while she made it, and yet he had no idea what all was in it, and that was an unsettling thought. Isaac rarely drank a lot at parties like this, and he never smoked because he didn't like the feeling of being out of control more than he wanted to fit in. Sure, it was fun when everyone was drunk, but he never wanted to be the person who made a fool of themselves.

He took one more look at the cup, and then Magnolia, and knocked some of it back. It had a purple sort of flavor to it if that was even a thing. Like grapes or mulberry or something thick, and damn did it burn going down. He wished she'd added some beer to it so the fizz might have cut through, but it was too late, and he wasn't asking for favors. He reminded her she was at a party, and she teased him in return, but Isaac wasn't hurt by it. This was better than arguing, he supposed, remembering how she'd ignored him for almost two months and took another drink.

Yeah, sure," He raised one shoulder and smirked; the ears were cute, but it was funnier not to tell her that. Isaac wondered if she'd ask again, but instead, she told him the story behind them, and he rolled his eyes. Queen Victoria. "You and that fucking cat," He blurted, shaking his head as he recalled how much he hated her stupid cat and its stupid snacktime. "No, no, they look better on you." He answered, holding the hand with the cup up toward her in a stopping gesture and laughing. "So, where is your drink, then?"

Last term, she couldn’t stand the way he called her Gryffindor but now, she couldn’t have worn the words (read: insult) any more proudly and it showed alongside the smile on her face watching him with much interest as he reached for the drink. She sort of felt bad (not fully, of course) about giving it to him straight like this but she figured he’d be much better company if he loosened up. Of course, it wasn’t like she had stopped thinking about what had happened the last time they had been together at a party where alcohol was involved and had sort of wanted a replay of that as well, but only the last bit.
She looked down at the cup then back up at him and bit her lip, feeling a tad guilty for making it like that and wondered if she’d give him alcohol poisoning or if would be okay. He had drank loads at the New Years' party….right? Or had that bit come up from the assumption that guys like Isaac just looked like they’d do all the things bad boys in those trashy novels she did would do.

“Wait don’t actually—” she reached out but it was too late. She made a face as if she could taste how yucky the drink must have tasted, not that the cheap beer made it any better but at least it was something. Half of the people she had served were too drunk to taste the difference anyway, but Isaac looked way too sober. “Hold on,” she said, turning towards the fridge to fetch the little bit of orange juice that had been left, finding a cup that looked clean and poured it in there, “Chaser,” she offered with a smile, the cat ears moving a little as he spoke.

“No, don’t say that” Magnolia defended herself almost immediately, a hurt expression on her face, “Queen Victoria is such a sweetie, at least she didn’t scratch you when you—” she paused, frowning a little as her cheeks became warm at the thought of what had happened in her house over January. She looked away, “I’m the designated…supervisor,” she said, putting the top back on the bottle of firewhiskey she had opened and setting it on the counter, closer to the middle to avoid any accidents.

“Have to make sure no one does anything embarrassing,” she said. It made her feel responsible, but the truth was that Magnolia hadn’t even been keeping track of her closest friends so— “Want another drink?” she offered instead.

Isaac knew from the second the liquid touched his lips that he would not be finishing this hell beast of a drink.  She had said something as he had tipped the glass back, but Isaac was quite sure inhaling the fumes had cost him at least a few brain cells, and he had no idea what it was. Maybe he made a face, or perhaps Magnolia had just known her bartending skills were shit because before he had swallowed, she had reached for a chaser. “Yeah— cough, cough — definitely going to need that.” Isaac felt like his tongue was still on fire as she continued, and he kept the plastic cup in his hand. It rested on the counter, near his stomach, but the Slytherin felt like he could still smell it, even from here.

What had she put in this thing? He should have been paying more attention, and typically, he would have been, but Isaac was in a different sort of mood today. A little less critical, a little bit more fun, but still the same level of asshole. And he still did not like her stupid cat. “She’s lucky she did not scratch me,” Isaac said, but the smirk at the end of his words indicated he was joking, mostly.

Magnolia had declared herself the designated supervisor, and Isaac scrunched up his nose. “No, no, I am good with this one.” He shook his head dramatically, and the baseball cap he had on backward rubbed against his shoulder. Isaac didn’t plan to drink anymore of it, but he had never intended to get pissed tonight anyway. Most of his classmates seemed like they were already half in the bag, and he was sure stupid stuff was going to start happening anytime now.

“Well, is there any rule that says the supervisor has to stay in the kitchen?” He asked, holding his cup up and pointing toward the door that led to the porch. Why was he always found her in the kitchen at parties? And why did he always try to get her somewhere that was quieter and full of fewer people? Isaac didn't think about it; instead, he wondered something else out loud. “So you are not drinking tonight?”