23 December. 9.00pm. Around 2.00pm the following note was slipped under the doors of each flat in Hiraeth Gardens. The door to flat 2E is slightly propped open with a bin.

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Ah, the holidays. 'Twas the night before the night before Christmas and all through Hiraeth Gardens, Hayes had no idea if anyone was in the building, let alone planning on stopping by, or if she was watching the claymation version of Rudolph on telly and drinking by herself. She was even wearing antlers in an attempt to be festive. But to be fair, she wasn't immune to the charms of the clay reindeer.

She had always preferred Clarice to Rudolph, even if she did wear that ridiculous bow. She was a damn reindeer, was the hair bow really necessary? Hayes was surprised they hadn't tried to put the poor thing in a dress, Merlin forbid anyone not be able to tell Clarice was of the female persuasion. And those eyelashes? Utter rubbish. And what about Hermey wanting to be a dentist? He clearly wanted to be a... a hairdresser, or something. The whole thing was stupid. Just let Rudolph and Hermey be themselves. And if Santa didn't like them, well, tough on them. And Rudolph's dad making him cover his nose! Just let the reindeer live.

Hayes shook her antler-donned head and took a sip of her eggnog, draped sideways over an armchair, legs over the armrest. She did this every holiday season. Watch the same movie, wear the same antlers, drink the same drink. A family tradition she followed, despite the lack of family present. But she didn't care. She'd drink her eggnog and either pass out in her chair or put herself to bed early like an adult. She had work tomorrow evening and figured she'd better get her eggnog fix in now. She leaned backwards and grabbed the rum bottle from an endtable, pouring a splash into the frosty drink and taking a swig.

She heard what could have been footsteps outside her door and whipped her head around, disappointed when they kept walking by. Hayes didn't consider herself a social butterfly, but she didn't consider herself a hermit, either. It was the holidays. She was lonely. And even more than that, she was bored. Seb and Indy had invited her over but she had declined, wanting to give them a break to be alone for a change. That was why she had slid her shoddy notes under everyone's doors. Maybe there were other bored, lonely people in the building who were up for a night of fun. Or at least a night of watching old holiday films.

A phrase like “knock twice for rum” was bound to bring around the likes of Claire McByrne. She’d knock anywhere anytime for rum; the things she would do for whiskey were unspeakable. Luckily there was no need to do anything for a spot of whiskey, as Claire had her trusty flask hidden beneath layers of clothing. The weather was getting just about as cold as Claire’s friends were starting to become (in regards to letting her crash in their homes). Apparently she’d overstayed her welcome on more than one couch.

She could always trust her good friend Hayes for a bender, right? Claire wasn’t sure. They’d attended Hogwarts at vaguely the same time, or something. Maybe it was just from frequenting Margo’s new bar that Claire recognized the young woman. To be honest, Lord Voldemort could have been making his long-awaited return and was gathering his followers via knocks for rum, and Claire would probably still knock twice.

She did as the note had instructed her and waited to be let in. While waiting she plucked out the aforementioned flask and spun the top open with a well-practiced push. This particular flask had been found on the floor of a park Claire had passed out drunk in once, and it was a happy prize when she woke up painfully hungover.

“Whass takin’ so long, Haysey!”Claire demanded of the door in the most friendly way possible.

Just as Rudolph was about to save Santa's arse by guiding the damn sleigh (in her opinion, Rudolph should have told Santa to bugger off and sort his own shite out), there was a knock. She was almost surprised by it. As the movie played on Hayes had just assumed she'd drink alone tonight.

“Whass takin’ so long, Haysey!”

Whose voice was that? She hadn't had so much to drink where she wasn't able to recognise her mates' voices, had she? The door was unlocked, but Hayes figured she should see who it was before letting a potential stranger into her flat.

She quickly made her way to the door and tried her best not to look surprised when she saw one Claire McByrne, flask in hand, waiting to be let in.

"Claire!" she exclaimed, somewhat slowly. "This is... a surprise! I... didn't know you lived here?" Hayes ran a hand through her hair, and took a step backwards into her flat.

Well, this was odd. Hayes had been at Hogwarts the same time Claire had been, and she wouldn't exactly say they had been friends. Friendly acquaintances, sure, but not exactly friends. They'd spent a fair amount of time in detention though, albeit for different reasons. But Hayes had seen Claire round Death&Co. quite often. She supposed they chatted there. Did that make them friends? She shook her head and cleared her throat. It was no matter. At least now Hayes wouldn't feel too guilty drinking by herself.

"Come in," she said, waving the (slightly disheveled?) other girl in. "Fancy an eggnog?" She topped off her own as she asked and then curled back up on her chair.

"What have you been up to, then?" she asked, taking a swig of her drink and lowering the volume of the telly.

"This is... a surprise! I... didn't know you lived here?"

It just so happened that Claire did not live in the building, but was presently inhabiting their boiler room. “Just passin’ t’ru” Claire waved off the question. “It’s a bit parky out here ye know,” she pointed out, urging her pal to let her inside, as if Niamh had been the rude one. Claire adjusted her furry sweatshirt, brushing imaginary dirt off the shoulder. Once she was finally invited in, Claire handed off the secondhand flask to Niamh. Sharing was caring, and if sharing could be measured in alcohol content, then sharing this lighter fluid was extremely generous.

“Fancy an eggnog?”

Ah, so this was the manner in which the rum was being delivered. It wasn’t Claire’s rum of choice, but it was seasonally appropriate. “Why the hell not,” Claire answered. She followed Niamh over to the telly, a device Claire was also familiar with. She’d grown up with a muggle-born mum and a squib for a dad -- these types of devices had been strewn about her childhood home, occasionally used (but mostly fiddled about with by Claire).

Claire found a seat nearby and put her legs up on the nearest surface. The girl had no clear regard for manners, but somehow her presence was charming. “‘Been workin’ on a few new inventions, and that,” Claire responded vaguely. Her most recent invention, Whiskey Pops, had taken her on a 3-month bender that currently had her homeless and barely hanging onto her job at Zonko’s. Not that this was at the forefront of Claire’s blurry thoughts. “How ‘bout yerself?” Claire was beginning to realize that it had been a while since she last talked to her former classmate. “Still got yer… things?”

Flask in hand, Hayes smiled gratefully and took a swig. She resisted the urge to cough immediately after swallowing. "Christ, what do you have in here?" Hayes wasn't a princess when it came to drinking by any means, but this alcohol could probably strip the varnish off her ancient coffee table.

She uncurled herself from her chair and allowed her legs to join Claire's on said ancient coffee table after pouring the other girl a drink. "It's not bad, only cost a couple quid from the cornershop. Needs more rum though." With that she tipped the additional bottle into the glass she had passed Claire, then poured even more into her own. Her thoughts weren't kind by any stretch of the imagination and she immediately felt badly after thinking them, but seeing Claire here made her feel like she had herself more together than she originally thought. Justifying that as a reason for getting smashed was a bit arse over tits, but it was a holiday. Well, almost. And at least she wasn't drinking alone. She considered that to be progress. Indy would be proud, if nothing else.

“‘Been workin’ on a few new inventions, and that.”

"Anything exciting?" Hayes asked, rolling up the sleeves of her faded grey jumper. The rum was having that ever so pleasant warming effect. An American witch she had once served at Death&Co. had once referred to that feeling as "wearing a liquor blanket".

“How ‘bout yerself? [...] Still got yer… things?”

Hayes blinked. "Uhm, I guess so. Really hoping I've not made the wrong choice by deciding to become an auror. Been in training since October. I mean it took like, three tries to get in and I feel like an idiot half the time. We've got a thing tomorrow night..." she began in an unconventionally chatty way before realising she should probably not talk about the goings-on at work. "...anyway. I spend a lot of time thinking I should just be a barmaid full time at Death&Co. - the money isn't all that bad. And the free drinks are ace".

She took a gulp of her drink and threw her head back, cursing when her antlers fell off. "Ah, fuck..."

“Christ, what do you have in here?”

Claire started taking off her sweatshirt. “Not really sure,” she said, casually adding, “I found it under a bench in the park.” The ‘park’ that Claire was referring to was not so much a ‘park’ as a patch of grass with a tree and a bench. That was why she couldn’t specify which park she’d been in.

When prompted to talk about her inventions, Claire dug through her ridiculous enchanted bag and pulled out a pair of frozen whiskey pops. Claire was a whiz when it came to magical tricks and hacks. It was mainly out of laziness. She handed one of the pops to Hayes, watching as she poured the rum. Once she was finished, Claire took her cup and swirled it around while looking at it. Eggnog was weird, but felt festive. Christmas was coming up, she realized, and with this realization came another: she had no one to spend it with.

“Agreed, mate, needs more rum,” Claire helped herself to the bottle and added a few glugs. Then she added a splash of the very hard liquor she’d obtained. She tested out the new concoction. Yes - that would do the trick nicely. This was an adult drink for sure.

As Hayes talked about what was going on in her life, Claire ignored any instinct that might haev made her feel inferior. “Sounds like… responsible.” Claire raised a brow at the horrible notion. She picked up the antlers that had fallen off Hayes’ head, put the rum back where she’d got it from, and put the antlers on her own head. “Finders keepers.”

Hayes cocked an eyebrow when Claire admitted to having found the flask at a park. But who was she to judge? And anyway, the alcohol inside the flask was certainly killing any germs that might have been on its spout. That was how alcohol worked, wasn't it? It could double as a cleaning solution. And she'd once sanitised a needle with alcohol before re-piercing Indy's ear when they were fifth years.  She reckoned they'd be fine. And if not, well... at least they were having a nice time.

The potential illness the flask in question may or may not have was forgotten, though, when Claire pulled the two ice lolly looking things out of her bag. "Cheers," she said, grinning, giving it a lick. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head. She gave the frozen treat another lick. "Is this whiskey?" She continued sucking on the ice lolly, not caring how ridiculous she probably looked. "Fuckin' hell mate, this is amazing!" And it was. Damn the egg nog. This was loads better. "I could kiss you right now, this is so good" she said, although it was a toss up if Claire would understand what she said as the treat was still crammed in her mouth.

“Finders keepers.”

She laughed when the other girl nicked her antlers. "You can keep them if you can get me a box of these. How'd you keep 'em cold in your bag? Freezing charm? What's in 'em?" She rattled on enthusiastically. "Is there  a lot of alcohol in 'em? Do you have more? Hey, want to take a shot or something?" She was starting to feel quite blissfully tipsy. As a general rule, a drunk Hayes was a chatty Hayes. And drunk Hayes was always a good time.