"Oi," James said, retaliating playfully by slapping at Sirius. He was going for the cheek and ended up with Sirius's shoulder, but it worked. "All I used it for was to cover for your arse, you ungrateful git. And to get Evans to go out with me," he said, flashing a wicked grin. "Oh, and putting the thing about prefects getting drunk in the manual, like Moony said."
At the time he'd thought Dumbledore was acting as his wingman, but even his drunk mind knew better than to steer the conversation towards Dumbledore. He harbored a lot of anger towards the old Headmaster, still. Not as much as Lestrange, of course, but it was still a good amount.
He pushed that thought out of his mind and turned a very practiced pout on Remus, now that he had control over the bottle. He managed to hold the expression fairly well, despite having trouble with holding back his laughter, though the tie partially in his face and slightly askew glasses didn't help. "Hubby, babydoll, won't you let me have a drink?"