The Drage Residence 2

"Well, neither am I, so we're in the same boat." Tristan smirked, draining his glass and refilling it once more. "Except your kid actually has some discipline; mine's kind of a brat. Although I don't blame her," he admitted, his speech really slurred now. "I had no respect whatsoever for my father, although you already know that. He always threatened to pull me out of Hogwarts if I didn't go through with training. Why am I telling you this?" Tristan wiped his mouth with his shirtsleeve, "You already know all about it."
 
"Yes, Sophia is quite disciplined. Not letting them play as children will do that. Also showing her my temper and ruling with her iron fist. Although I did not usually let my temper show in front of her. No wonder she was so angry at that meeting she dropped into. That was the first time she really saw me like that."
 
"I still don't know what happened there," Tristan sighed, draining his glass and moving to the cupboards, pulling out two new bottles of vodka, handing one to Sammael and opening one of them himself. "Seriously, that was out of place; it didn't make any sense. Why could you touch her but not hit her with magic? And then my daughter's voice; I'm positive it was Estrella's..." He shook his head. "We weren't using any strange substances beforehand? I've never heard of anything like it before that happened at that meeting."
 
"I tried to make sense of it, and decided that it is not worth it. I am conviced we will never understand what happened or why."
 
"Same here," Tristan said, tipping back the bottle, his adam's apple bobbing as he drank quickly. "I just thought of something," he said, grinning wildly, "I feel like playing some Quidditch right now, although it seems quite impossible." He laughed loudly, and said, "I think I have my beater's bat in storage upstairs."
 
"Well of course we could not play here. There is a field in the back of my house that would be perfect. I do not see how it will work well with only a chaser and a beater though. Do you even have a broom?"
 
"Maybe we could get someone else to play with us," Tristan laughed, nearly falling out of his chair. "It sounded like a good idea at the time. But yeah, I have an old Nimbus 2001 stored away somewhere with the beater's bat."
 
"I do believe I have my Firebolt stowed away somewhere. Even if we cannot get anyone else to join us, we could at least just fly around a bit."
 
Tristan stood up from his chair, staggering, while still holding the bottle of vodka. "I'll go get them," he muttered, and went upstairs, grabbing his old beater's bat and Nimbus 2001. He looked at Sammael, and said, "So are we apparating to your house, then?" He still cradled the bottle in his arm, right next to his beater's bat.
 
Sammael could not help but chuckle at Tristan's appearance. "Yes, we can apparate," he began as he stood from the table. "If you think you can handle it, that is."
 
"I can handle it," Tristan said loudly and boisterously, moving towards the door. "So, shall we go, søskenbarn?"

((It means cousin. I'm putting some Norwegian into this :p ))
 
Sammael jumped forward and grabbed Tristan by the arm. "Hold on there. No need to use the door if we are apparating."
 
"Oh, yeah," Tristan laughed. "So where should I go in your place? Front door?"
 
"Yes, the front door will be fine. I shall see you there søskenbarn." With that, Sammael let go of Tristan's arm and stepped away from him. As he turned, he disapparated into thin air.
 
Tristan disapparated also, if a little clumsily and with effort, as he was getting very tipsy.
 
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