October 23rd, 1893 — Slytherin Dungeons

He had drugs from Elijah Urquart, alcohol he'd purchased himself, and a dream of a party. Now it was just time to get things together and start letting people know where they could find a good time on Saturday night.

Sirius dropped into the armchair next to Killian Claxton and pulled out his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook; the textbook was half a prop, but he really ought to do this homework tonight, so hopefully he would actually end up reading it.

"Claxton," Sirius said. He could never decide whether or not he liked Killian Claxton, but the other chaser would certainly be a good ally in the party-planning process. "Have I told you what I'm working on for this weekend?" (Sirius was certain he had not — he'd settled the details with Flora and Rex, but was trying not to tell too many people the details this early in case the professors got wind of it.)

Killian Claxton

  

The broad-shouldered figure had collapsed onto the sofa after a grueling workout. His body was drained, yet an undeniable restlessness still coursed through him. Killian's self-control had been pushed to the limit when he declined his friends' invitation to get a drink in Hogsmeade. Instead, he forced himself to read the thick herbology book his mother had given him months ago, one he hadn't cracked open until this moment. It wasn't a matter of laziness; Killian simply found a thousand more exciting things to do rather than study plants in an aging book. Perhaps that's why he didn't immediately brush off Sirius when he shattered the silence with a question.

"Black," was his absentminded reply, his eyes still glued to the pages. Killian pretended to read, but his thoughts were miles away. When Sirius posed another question, he tilted his head in a disinterested manner. Only then did he shift his green gaze to look toward the dark-haired figure in the armchair across from him. "Let me guess – ye’re about to enlighten me?" His eyes scrutinized the book in Black's hands for clues as a frown crossed his face. "If ye're about to reveal your brilliant study plans for the weekend, then please, spare me... I'm already bored," he warned with a wry smile. Killian didn't mean to be provocative; it was instinct, and it also upheld a tradition between them. They always traded banter - it was a sign of respect for Killian. Honestly, he couldn't fathom why Black suddenly wanted to engage in small talk. It was out of character for him, so his best guess was that he, like everyone else these days, wanted to boast about how well-prepared he'd be for the exams.

  

---

Sirius laughed good-naturedly; jibes from Claxton were easy to take when Sirius got to feel like he had the upper hand. "Hardly," he said.

He dropped his tone, "This one has to do with some foreign imports from Urquart." (Another opportunity to try and one-up Claxton — Urquart had been their Head Boy and a Chaser last year, and he'd given Sirius the drugs. Never mind that Sirius wasn't sure Claxton had asked about it. And if Sirius' father ever found out that last year's Head Boy was now bringing party drugs into the country, he was going to shit.)

"And, of course, celebrating Halloween far more festively than the school would want us to," he added helpfully, "Unless you don't want to be at a party Saturday night?"

He did know he was being a little obnoxious.

  

Killian arched his eyebrows at his teammate’s chuckle. It wasn’t about studying, then? When Black steered the conversation toward foreign imports from Urquart, Killian's attention automatically sharpened. He pushed the thick Herbology book aside and left it on the table next to the couch, then propped himself up on his elbows. "Imports? What kind?" If Urquart was involved, he had a solid inkling of what Black was alluding to, but he wanted to confirm it. Nevertheless, it was unlikely that Black would disclose all the details, especially here in the common room with other students present.

A secretive Halloween party with foreign imports – probably of the illegal variety. Killian was taken aback by the fact that Sirius had it in him to organize such a party, but he couldn't help but respect it. "It sounds like my kind of party," he admitted and cracked an amused smile at Black's jibe. "I presume ye want me there; otherwise, ye wouldn't be sharing this with me right now," he calmly stated, directing his gaze toward Black and raising an eyebrow. "So, what do ye need from me?" He couldn't be entirely certain of Sirius's motives, but based on past experiences, there was an ulterior motive. Perhaps he needed assistance with preparations, help in obtaining alcohol, or had some other favour in mind.

  

---

"They feel festive for the occasion," Sirius answered, sure that his cagey response would allow Claxton to identify that he was talking about spiritus sancti. Sirius didn't have much — and he was saving some for himself, Rex, and Flora — but he did have some, and that was thrilling.

He grinned at Claxton. "Obviously I want you there," Sirius said — even with the rivalry thing they had going on, Sirius wasn't going to throw something without his fellow upper-year Slytherins. "I could also use some assistance with spreading the word to likely parties, and some of the entertainment," Sirius said — read: he did not want to provide all the alcohol.

  

Killian's brows furrowed deeper, a look of puzzlement crossing his face as Black spoke. Was he actually referring to 'spiritus sancti'? No, that couldn't be right. How on Earth would he have managed to pull that off? Killian wouldn't even know how to get a hold of it, until now, of course.
"Festive, indeed," Killian pondered, his voice tinged with amusement, imagining the upcoming party where his (surely drunk) friends would no longer be earthbound but instead flying around in ghostly form. "Sounds quite... memorable," he said, as uttering 'completely insane' would likely draw too much attention. The prospect of using banned substances carried a risk, yet he had never allowed such concerns to deter him in the past and wasn't about to begin now.

The straightforward confession from Black was unexpected, yet in hindsight, perhaps Killian should have anticipated it. Despite their rivalry, they were teammates and both fighting for the same house. "All right, who's welcome at the party?" The task of spreading the word would be simple, but Killian had a hunch that Sirius had particular guests in mind, and that not everybody would be welcome.
"If ye share spiri... I mean, yer festive imports with me, I'll make sure the guests' glasses are never empty," Killian offered with a half-smile. "Do we have an agreement?" His family name had afforded him a network of influential contacts, a resource he was adept at utilizing to his advantage. Hence, obtaining firewhisky, beer, or whatever they needed would be no trouble.

  

---

"A gentleman's agreement," Sirius said; he enjoyed using turns of phrase from business in casual conversations. He held out his hand, an offer for Claxton to shake it. Giving some of the spiritus sancti over to Claxton was a sacrifice Sirius was willing to make; he'd still have a few extra doses, and he was willing to try to buy more from Urquart at the next Hogsmeade weekend, too.

"I'd like — Quidditch people, but not the babies," Sirius said. First years were too young, obviously. "And N.E.W.T. students we think will be fun. I think the important thing is not tipping off people who will —" Sirius waved a hand, hoping to encompass canary in their coal mine "— before we even have it."

If he got in trouble after, that was fine.

  

Killian's gaze lingered on Black's extended hand, a sly grin forming on his lips. The idea of a "gentleman's agreement" amused him; such terms were rarely uttered in the Slytherin dungeon, where self-interest often overshadowed mutual agreements. However, it seemed they both had vested interests in upholding this particular promise.

"Ye have my word," he said, extending his hand. His grip was firm as he shook Black's hand. "I see," Killian mused, leaning back into the plush cushions of the couch. "Quidditch folk and N.E.W.T. students... no killjoys and no babies. Noted.” This was a relief; the absence of his younger sisters, unwelcome under these criteria, suited him just fine.

Casting a discreet glance around, Killian quickly assessed their surroundings, ensuring privacy. There were other students present, but they were seated at the far end of the common room. "So, those imports of yers," he began with a half-smile, looking back at Black with an arched brow. "Have ye had a chance to try them?" His curiosity was unmistakable. He could all too well imagine how they worked, but he was excited to know more.

  

---

There; they'd shook on it. Claxton would help with the party. Sirius didn't bother trying to hide that he was pleased; he was sure he would find a way to be standoffish with Claxton eventually.

"I've been waiting for the right opportunity," Sirius said, his mouth curling up into a self-satisfied smile. He was sure that he wanted to try them, confident — but he did not want to try Spiritus Sancti alone. And wouldn't it be more fun to try it with someone else? "So — maybe next week. But Urquart's used it."