It was 10pm and Trudy Hughes’ apartment was a mess. It wasn’t something that she had read about in her horoscope or some kind of apocalyptic rapture, but somehow neither of those things were happening and that was still true. It may or may not have had something to do with Trudy’s new wine cooler and the bottles that had come inside it. And the open one on the table. She wasn’t alone, but she was drinking by herself.


And she was wearing sweatpants.


“What’d you say you did at that party?” Trudy knew her twin would know which one she was talking about. They were drinking out of teacups but hers did not contain a drop of tea. She wasn’t sure how that had started happening but it felt like a grown-up tea party. “I think mom knows.” She pointed at him vaguely, the hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.


They were sitting in her kitchen, and Trudy was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, beneath a blanket Bertie had made for her. She poured herself another cup of wine. “Are you sure you don’t want me to make the tea?”

Bertie took a sip of his red tea. The Hughes' were very family oriented people. He felt close to all of his cousins, particularly those around his age... And of course he was especially close to his sister. He knew he wasn't allowed to have a favorite sibling, Bert believed that there should be an exception in the case of twins. They had shared a womb, a nursery, a bedroom, and a Hogwarts house. Despite being fraternal, out of all their siblings they looked the most alike-- Trudy was the spitting image of their mother, and like her he shared the round face, dark hair, striking blue eyes and fair skin. Unfortunately Adelbert and Archie had both inherited their father's bulbous nose.

Trudy had always looked like a prettier Bertie. Strangers and family alike had taken pains to remind him of this his entire life.

"Oh, the party-- I think it was... Christmas?" Adelebert let out a laugh, "Audrey and I stole Aunt Ruzena's vodka and decided that locking Flynn in the pantry was a smart idea." It hadn't been a smart idea. "He blew up the door. And the turkey." He let out a hearty laugh, "Mum was in the kitchen and she nearly had a heart attack. When she went looking for us, she caught Audrey and I taking shots in the bathroom." He paused and shook his head at the offer for wine. He had exhausted himself and gotten in trouble too much for making dumb decisions while drunk in his younger years.

"Wait, where were you during all of this?" Making out with a boyfriend? Tormenting Archie or Alfred?

Family events were always memorable with the Hughes family. They were an eccentric gang, which she confirmed once she started planning events for other people. She wouldn’t have chosen anything or anyone different, wouldn’t give up the stories. Even the ones where Trudy and Bertie were goaded into putting on “Gertie and Bertie” performances as children.


She swallowed a bit more wine and laughed into her glass when her brother reminded her of the story. “That’s right,” she remembered. Aunt Ruzena had made a very big deal about replacing the doors that Flynn had blown off. The memory became clearer.


"Wait, where were you during all of this?"


Trudy glared at her brother. “You don’t remember abandoning me with Aunt Fionnula then?” She downed more wine to dull the memory’s horror. “She told me all about her Spattergroit affliction.” Trudy visibly cringed and very nearly gagged.


“You still owe me for that,” Trudy decided. “What is there to cook around here?” One might think that this being Trudy’s own house, she might know, and in fact she did have a mental inventory of ingredients. But she wanted to convince Bertie that it was all his idea to make her a delicious snack.

Oh. Aunt Fionnula. She was-- what-- their great aunt? Bertie tried to track the family tree back in his head. His father was Tobias... His paternal grandfather was also an Adelebert... So Fionnula was one of their grandfather's sisters. She got personal way too quickly, regardless of whether or not people actually wanted to hear what she had to say about her many ailments.

He was sympathetic, only for a moment. Surely, Trudy was over that horrible trauma by now. Besides, Fionnula had traumatized everybody in the family. It was part of being a Hughes! "Last week, I visited her. I brought the dogs.[1] She pointed at Rosie and said," He put on his best old lady voice, "Bert, don't you get another one... It's as ugly as a scrotum!" Rosie hadn't deserved that. Sure, she was a little ugly... Both his dogs were. But they were wonderful dogs. "I laughed as if she was joking, but she wasn't joking Trudy. She wasn't joking at all." 

Bertie hesitated, "I don't want to cook. Do you have.... Anything I don't have to cook?"

1.	Ulysses, the French Bulldog, and Rosie, the pug

Trudy tried to resist smirking but she couldn’t resist. She busted out laughing, placing her near-empty teacup on the table and pouring more wine as she laughed. “Maybe she thinks you’re overcompensating,” Trudy joked. “I wonder what she would say if you got a third. Dog, I mean.” She smirked.


She set the wine back on the table unsteadily. It wobbled a bit as she let go. Her eyes darted back and forth. “Nothing,” she responded to a question that hadn’t been asked. She flashed an innocent smile.


“...Anything I don’t have to cook?”


“Ummm…” Trudy tapped her chin. Then she groaned and let her head fall back. She put her feet on Bertie’s legs and crossed them. “How is it that we are a well-educated witch and wizard and yet we still can’t feed ourselves?”

It was decided then. They would have to order out. "Do you have any to go menus?" That was how some places allowed for broomstick delivery-- through their food menus.  You select your order with your wand, write the address on the menu, and then wait for the delivery flier to arrive.

"I think I want pizza. Or Chinese food." Bertie grinned, "I'll pay. I think this counts as grown adults fending for themselves, right?" He just really, really did not want to cook right now. Sure, maybe he was being lazy. But he cooked for himself all the time at home, it was time for a break. "... Or both. There's two of us. And you're going to get the drunk munchies any minute now." He knew how drinking worked. Drunk people always wanted to have something delicious and unhealthy to chase down their alcohol with.