Summer 1992, Stag Night for Francis Pepper ahead of his wedding to Claire, a pretty wizengamot scribe. Monty is mid twenties - married for 3 years and Theta at home, Aisling late thirties, Edwin early forties and Francis late twenties.

Rough visual reference for Octavius/Monty

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It was a hot, balmy summer night and they were crammed into a set of tables in the Leaky Cauldron, Aisling sandwiched between them. The noise from the group was rowdy - Francis was being asked all manner of questions by the men around him, teasing him about the prospect of married life. A strange assortment of aurors, Ministry workers, old school friends.

Before getting there, the group had been through a few local Muggle pubs for a bit of fun and some food, and then had returned the safety of wizarding pubs for a bit of fun. The Peppers often married Muggles and lived amongst them, so a drink or two in the local pubs for appearances sake had been useful.

Although this was a Stag night, celebrating a night of freedom before Francis and Claire were married in the morning, Aisling didn't know Claire all that well, and Octavius and Edwin had declared her an honorary bloke (which wasn't an unusual gesture given their regular stints in pubs oogling women over the years). Besides, she could drink them all under the table, and Gabrielle, possibly Francis' oldest friend from school was also there at the other end of the table.

Catherine had gone out to celebrate with Claire earlier in the week - the women weren't so silly as to celebrate the night before the wedding. No - there were more important things to be done with regards to dresses! Octavius was glad the men were out of the way. The women were having meltdowns about sewing charms.

"Six." Octavius declared over the top of his beer, leaning into Aisling so the other two could hear him better. The three of them were staring at intermittent intervals at the same girl across the room wearing a pretty red dress with no shoulders.
"Only because she's not got much going on to hold that dress up." Octavius informed the other two, and gestured with his free hand as if to cup a breast over his own shirt. His usually wild beard was trimmed neatly along with his hair, ready for photographs the next day.
"Yeah?"

Francis had finally managed to find himself someone. And Aisling hadn't taken much convincing to show up at the stag night, Edwin and Octavius having dragged her out on plenty of adventures with alcohol previously. Though she'd allowed herself a private moment of melancholy at the prospect. Having someone to go home to sounded good, but not so overwhelming that she held to the thought for more than that one moment.

"This again?" She grinned over at Octavius, running one hand back through her dark hair and tipping her glass dangerously with the other. "Drastic over-simplification while you're too drunk to watch properly" She took a long swig of the drink, then looked over at woman her friend was eyeing.

"Also," she said, "Eight. Look at her hands, posture, all of that. She's got grace. I'll take that over a great many things. Makes for some very pleasant nights." She blew a kiss over to the girl in the red dress, then looked over to Edwin. "You're not going to leave me to instruct the young one on this by myself, I hope." That would call for more drinks, not that she had planned on going light on them for that evening. This was supposed to be a proper celebration, after all.

"I was going to say nine until you blew her a kiss." Edwin piped up from the other side of Aisling. "Damn it." He raised his pint instead to the woman across the room, bowing out of the oogleing as Aisling trumped him.

"What about the one beside, no, not that one," He saw Octavius shoot him a worried look that he was talking about the man with his back to them stood behind the girl they were just admiring. "The quiet looking one in the deep blue robes."

"Merlin Ed, she looks hardly out of Hogwarts, not sure we can score that."
"Out of the three of us you're in with the most luck their given your age." He countered with a wagging finger.
"What do you reckon, number nine's sister?"

"Better luck on the next one, Ed. Don't think you're going to run out of options for a few hours." Aisling tipped her head back as she drank, resisting the urge to sigh at her companions. They had plenty of time left, no need to botch matters up in a rush.

She turned her attention toe the woman Octavius and Edwin had turned to discussing. It was a bit hard to see, through the press of people, the flashes of color and movement. "Sister, yes. She's a bit younger, but not that much." Too young for Aisling, though.

"I'd take a look about. No need to bother her while she's occupied." She gave the woman in red a nod when she caught her eye, then shifted her gaze to the rest of the Leaky Cauldron. Packed. All sorts of witches and wizards, besides the happy party. A blonde woman in Auror robes, a giggling cluster of witches in the back corner dressed in clothing that might just have come from a museum display. And enough alcohol for all of them. The probability of her two friends conspiring to drag her into a game of I Have Never seemed high.

"I think I am quite safe," Octavius informed the two of them, "that I'll not be going to either of your weddings any time soon," a prediction proved wrong within years, "unless the two of you give up and get married to each other."

He thought it was quite funny that he was the youngest of the group and also the one married and with a daughter already. It seemed a topsy-turvy world, but then again, he'd found Catherine outside of the magical world, which was rather refreshing at times. She had an entirely different perspective on life and felt altogether more grounded when he was doing ridiculous art.

No, Edwin was likely to be bald before he got married, Octavius figured, he was too keen on bachelor life, but Aisling would find a man one day, she was far too clever and pretty to be without.

"I'd paint any of them for a very long sitting, and I'm not ashamed to admit." He told them both, plonking his pint down and absent-mindedly rotating his wedding ring on his finger. "You both like to gaze on pretty things, but I wish you wouldn't go after the same products..."

"Us?" Aisling looked from Octavius to Edwin, and just managed to swallow her latest sip of her drink before she let out a sharp laugh. "There's plenty of  pretty women here, I don't think he needs to resort to that." Edwin had had a decade and more to ask if he'd wanted to, and well, here they were.

Then she took a longer swig, and spent a few moments coughing afterwards, her laughter not quite faded. "And I tend to find someone quickly, it's not as if there's a shortage of choices." She was the one to actually ask. That tended to help.

But that wasn't the only purpose of these parties, was it. "So, if I fall over drunk, what will you two be writing on my face? Presuming you can outlast me, of course." Her smile went wide at that. "But you can at least try."

All their games had given her a bit of a tolerance for alcohol, after all.

"Who says we haven't already?" Octavius replied, and gave a wink to Edwin who smiled brightly, his ruddy cheeks bulging up beneath his eyes. "I am an artist after all, I don't go anywhere without the means to draw, and your face is a worthy canvas."

They both adopted expressions to improve the self-doubt in Aisling that they really had already tinkered with her face.
"It's only practise before we do it to Francis anyway..." Edwin added, much to Pepper's glee. The other brother glanced their way with a suspicious frown, not entirely trusting his younger brother and all the rest of the stag party not to hex him to a lamppost upside down with his trousers round his ankles.

"Merlin, did I spell that incorrectly?" Octavius suddenly exclaimed, staring keenly at Aisling's forehead.

The perils of friends and alcohol. Aisling rolled her eyes, then pressed her hand to her forehead and pulled it away, checking for ink on her palm.

There didn't seem to be any. She sighed. "You two want the hexing to start early, hmm? Did promise Edwin I'd show him a few, don't think he meant like this."

She rubbed her hand onto Octavius' shoulder, then smirked. "And at this rate your spelling won't last much longer. Especially if you try to keep up."

Time for another long drink. More fun that way.

"... Did promise Edwin I'd show him a few, don't think he meant like this."

"A few? Drinks, women, breasts? Nights?" Edwin piped up, excited at the prospect, the alcohol firmly setting in.

"Shush you! Don't give away the plan!" Octavius returned, and grinned at his brother down the table.

"Sorry," Edwin countered, words a little encumbered, "It's just I think Aisling was offering to buy a round, Octavius. These things shouldn't be missed, but all of the above were equally acceptable too." They were talking round her, Aisling sandwiched in the middle of her inebriated male friends who were shoulder to shoulder in the clammy evening.

"That would be lovely, darling," Edwin assured Aisling, briefly putting his chin on her shoulder and smiling affectionately.

"Ed put your tongue back in!" Monty teased, drawing his wand and prodding the obliviator in the red nose with it to encourage him not to lean on Aisling. "Let the woman get to the bar!"

"Drinks. Breasts come in pairs." She shot Edwin a semblance of a disapproving look. "And he wouldn't ask me for the rest." If she'd had more space she would have shrugged, but as it was she pulled her shoulders in and leaned her head against Edwin a bit, teasing.

"Once I can get out." She lifted her empty mug and shook it at her companions, then attempted to move.

It was cramped, and she knocked her knee once or twice trying to get her legs out.

"Just drinks though. I'm not making them dance." There was that mock disapproval again, particularly in Edwin's direction. "And don't you dare. Already had one shower today."

Someone else could manage the alcohol shower. It was that sort of party.

With some jiggling and squirming, Aisling was released from between them and the table and sent in the direction of the bar to join the scrum.

"She said," Edwin leaned over to Octavius, "that breasts come in pairs, but my experience is that it depends on how many drinks I have, and if its a metamorph I'm burying my head into."

"Argh, Ed!" Octavius protested, wrinkling his nose. He was quite glad he'd married a Muggle and not into the wizarding community. It kept him grounded, as it had previous generations of the family. There was something pleasingly normal about the Muggle world that allowed for the wizarding one to remain as mad as a bag of cats.

"But, really?" He asked, curiosity of his shorter life getting the better of him. Edwin was older than the other two and had been about a bit. The obliviator waved his hand at the painter, and laughed, cheeks ruddy.

Through the bodies Octavius caught sight of Aisling and gave a grin and a wave automatically without considering that being seen with him might scupper any of her attempts to pick up women or men amongst the throng.

"I'm glad I don't have to talk about anything like that in my best man's speech tomorrow." He remarked, shaking his head at his friend. "Will you be bringing someone along tomorrow, or are you going to try and pretend Aisling's your 'plus one' at the wedding?"

"She's nobody's plus one, she's six herself." Edwin claimed with a grand hand gesture of size.

"She's not fat!" Octavius protested,

"No, no, she's worth six of any other woman. Seven, ten.... three hundred..."
"You're just spouting numbers-."
"I don't care, she is."
"I know, Aisling's a very special la-"
"She's wonderful, and I lo-"

Octavius clapped a hand over Edwin's mouth, spying Aisling with drinks approaching the table. Neither Edwin nor Aisling needed to hear what Edwin was drunkenly spouting, which was probably the truth, that he loved Aisling, but the two of them were not to be, and that wasn't for lack of Edwin trying either.

"Were you bringing anyone tomorrow?" Pepper asked her, shuffling glasses around as they moved their newly purchased drinks into reach. "I know I should remember but, hey, what else is magic for, but expanding wedding dinner tables and making them seat an extra?"

"Me, bringing anyone?" Aisling laughed and reached for one of the drinks. "No, had the usual luck there. Can't say I'm surprised. Used to it by now." Her tone didn't manage to sound convincing, not quite.

She took another long draught from her drink. What else were these parties for? "Should be a nice wedding though, something to remind me of how dreadful I am at decorating." Another short laugh, this one honest, and she leaned her head against Octavius' shoulder. 

"Anyone for you, Ed? Seems like you've got better luck than I, there." Didn't hurt that no one blinked at him showing up with a pretty woman on his arm.

"Anyone for you, Ed?"

On hearing that she didn't have anyone attending with her, he'd have ditched anyone he had been intending with at that very instant.

"Better luck? What in finding parties or girls?" He asked, brain basking in the moment, the possibility that he might suggest he would accompany her the next day - dance after the wedding with her…

"No, me? No… no… one doesn't invite anyone to attend a wedding of a dear friend. But that's no matter - you've no-one, I've no-one, we'll-"

"Pick someone up tonight, and then it doesn't matter eh?" Octavius interrupted with a laugh. Over Aisling's head, Edwin shot him a filthy look which vanished once delivered.

"No," He protested, "we'll go together, that's what I mean. It's perfectly logical, isn't it?" He patted Aisling's arm and raised his eyebrows hopefully.

"Girls, at least for attending formal events ." Aisling looked between Edwin and Octavius, her expression almost suspicious. Edwin's rambling was rather odd, and she found herself staring down into her drink as she listened to them.

She looked up sharply at Edwin's request, then nodded. 'Logical' wasn't exactly a flattering request. But it would spare her some of the ever-increasing pity that seemed to accompany attending social functions as a single woman who was no longer young. Though, perhaps she was being harsh. If he'd been bad company she would not have been here.

"What were you planning to wear, then? I was intending something blue, unless...." Her look to Octavius was almost desperate. She took a long swig before she spoke again.  "Please don't ask me to wear pink." She looked absolutely dreadful in pink.

"Octavius!"
"Ah, ye who is soon to be shackled in marriage calls. I'll be back." Octavius apologised, interrupting the conversations about pink and outfits. He patted Aisling on the arm as he squeezed out to join his brother, Francis, for a word.

As he departed, Edwin cleared his throat and tried to look at Aisling a little better now they weren't sandwiched together in the busy pub.

"I wouldn't ask you to wear pink." He assured his friend, "You wear whatever you like, but if you tell me the colour I'll at least make sure my tie matches, and my hankie I guess, and if it's not right we'll charm me to fix it." He tugged at the collar of the shirt he was wearing that night.

"It's simple enough as a bloke, but I know you like to pick out something nice." He smiled, "and you always look absolutely gorgeous whatever you wear." His eyes drifted from her face to her outfit that night and he blushed, looking down into his drink.

"I'll be the luckiest man to go with you." In that moment, he hoped that Octavius would both reappear and not reappear - unsure if he'd appreciate an interruption to the moment.