The Hog's Head

[Giacomo]

[December, 1997, Hogsmeade]

It was a snowy day; even more so in the north where Hogsmeade lied. The village was unusually crowded for it was the almost-traditional weekend preceding Christmas when the students of Hogwars were unleashed upon the tiny shops to buy gifts for their families and friends, and everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves despite the rather controversial stance of the new regime. Or, more likely, because of that: it could have been viewed as one of the rare occasions to let out the steam and ignore politics.
Among the crowd, there was a tall figure moving on with unquestionable confidence. Perhaps he was not his unusual self in the crowd right now, as his winter clothing was not as different from the casual dressing code as his everyday outlook, but still he could not blend into the crowd perfectly. Firstly, there was an aura of confidence and self-awareness which was quite rare among the people of his age; secondly, and more materially, his walking stick with the silvery hawk-head on the top of it was anything but casual. Otherwise, everything you could see of him was his long, black coat with its hood up on his head to defend against the steadily falling snow.
His movement in the crowd was agile and careful: he maintained his speed without clashing into anyone on his way. His dislike of crowded places was a well-known secret; his ability to perfectly handle it was not – and that’s why he wanted to remain as hidden as possible. He liked to keep his skills for himself; in case of emergency, he would likely be able to pull out an unexpected rabbit from the hat to avoid the dire situations. Fortunately, he remained unnoticed and he quickly left the crowded main street in favour of the desolate alleyways. He made up his mind about his destination a long time before he left the castle.
For quite a few years, he strongly disliked The Hog’s Head: the dirty reputation of the pub was almost legendary as it moved on the lips of the Hogwarts’ students. Several stories circulated among the walls of the castle and even though some of them were pretty unbelievable, it was enough to keep him out from this place. As a youngling, he was the cautious type: he knew he was among the strongest of his age, but would be no match for even the weakest adult wizards or witches. Therefore, he avoided the place until he coincidently learnt the identity of the owner. From that point on, he stopped to believe the stories and legends – in fact, he became a regular here, visiting the place at every Hogsmeade-weekend. The solitude of the place was appealing for him: either he came alone or with a friend of his, he could avoid the curious eyes and the ever-disturbing acquaintances from the school.

He entered the building and his blue eyes flashed around, exploring the room. He saw a few familiar faces – nobody he knew, but the regular visitors of the place whom he saw during his previous visits. He also saw someone who might have been from the school but he decided to ignore the guy as he did not want any company at the given moment.
- Greetings, my dear Sir – he said as he approached the bartender. The old, stout man just snorted as a response to that almost-overly-polite greeting.
- I would like a Butterbeer, please. – he continued, but no words was necessary for in almost every case he ordered that drink and the bartender was already busy under the table to prepare it for him. As the older man presented it, the younger took the drink and nodded in appreciation: he did not need to pay for it yet; they agreed on him paying when he is leaving at the end of the day. He never got drunk, not even tipsy in most cases so that method held no danger for the bartender.
He picked up his drink and moved to his favourite table: it was in the corner of the room beside one of the small, dirty windows. He always moved here when he wanted to be alone…

[Dwayne]
[December,1997, Hogsmeade]

It was a tough weekend for me. Dad told that Ashton’s state became really critical, so maybe he has to go to St. Mungo’s.
I was wondering for 21 hours: how could it be even worse?- I didn’t get it. Anyway, I had to face the fact that my brother is going towards madness. Of course, he had serious reason to do it.
Those crazy muggles just worth a shit. Or less.
They were curious about our family’s secrets and then.. they figured out what we really are. Afterwards, they noticed Ashton is not a real wizzard. Oh my poor brother.
He suffered so much for nothing. If I could do what I really wanted, then I would have kicked the last piece of crumb out of them.
But as I promised to my mom (the only human being in this world who can always order anything from me), I would stay away from that crazy story. Even if I literally spat my reflection at that point I decided not to punish them for what they did.
They nearly made Ashton blind! How could they be so cruel?
So that’s why I sat at this godforsaken pub. I had fortune that today we were allowed to come out to Hogsmeade. This time, I didn’t want to meet any girl.. they could not make me happy. I needed to drink and behave totally unacceptable. I stared so long into my flame whisky that I didn’t check out yet my company. He was a Griffindor guy, I saw him before at the castle, but we never had together classes. Maybe he was older, yeah he looked alike an adult with his elegant style and his spiel ‘Greetings my dear sir’. Alright, at that moment - like everybody -he annoyed me too, so I just nodded towards him. But after I changed my mind, because... I wanted to play with my cubes. I wanted to forget Ashton's pain.. I needed somebody with whom I could distract my attention and as I could see he was perfect for that role. Even if he was busy with his own miserable thoughts. As my father teached me when I was an innocent, little boy I just started the game by caring his bills. My aim was to make him my company, that was all. Anyway, I turned to the bartender from my place.
– Hey, that man is my guest for that Butterbeer! – I said with my warm hang tone, but I didn’t smile. It wouldn’t be honest and I hated that artificial, joker smile. On the other hand, he didn’t accept my simple gesture yet. I took my pack of cigarette out of my coat and burnt it. It had special, cannelle flavoured taste, I always bought it at Zonko’s. Just because he had the best tobacco as far as I knew the area. While I was smoking I got my goods and chattels in my hand and slowly walked towards him. I was wearing my casual clothes - jeans and a black sweater with hood. A few second later I stopped three feet distance from his chair.
– Good evening, buddy. Do You mind if I sit down here? – I pointed to the other chair at his table.
– If You don’t take it indiscretion... You look a little depressed. Do You wanna play a little? – And I shaked my two magic cubes in my palm to show him what I mean.

He was sitting at his table and hardly cared about his surroundings; he heard the shout but neither he recognised the words nor he realised it was meant for him as he was already lost in his thoughts. He was in a lucky position right now: he had nothing that really troubled his life. Of course, there was the distant threat of the future with the Dark Magicians rising through the ranks of the Ministry and some new teachers in the castle also had questionable attitude, to put it lightly, but as a pureblood, he was barely touched by these changes. Or barely should have been touched, to be more accurate: he was the type who could not stand any injustice that crossed his path. He learnt tolerance, he understood the need of overlooking minor incidents but if the situation became dire, he stepped up to protect those who needed it. There was a trend among those pureblood students, who clearly supported the rising force: they liked to bully halfbloods – and while bullying itself was a pretty usual thing in every school, be it Magical or Muggle, it became more and more serious as the time passed on. The overly confident purebloods were not even afraid to cause serious injuries to their targets; some were not even afraid to use Cruciatus on them, knowing that their crime will surely be overlooked by the new regime of Hogwarts. And of course they were; but not by Dwayne.
It would be harsh to say he risked his life – rarely did he meet any opponent within the students’ ranks that could match his power. Despite his dislike of using offensive magic, he was a very capable wizard for his young age and could easily handle three or four of those pureblood celebrities who terrorised the weak. He did so when he deemed necessary, and was yet to be punished by the regime for his freedom. He wondered why: he was pretty sure he could handle even one of the Carrows in a duel but also knew that if they decide him to be an unwanted component they can just remove him from the school with combined force. But his family was fairly powerful as it was pureblood, too, and of a very old bloodline: it might have been the deciding factor. Anyway, he was pretty successful with his heroic actions.
Not counting that, his life was fairly safe and more or less happy, although pretty boring.
That was the point when Dwayne’s schoolmate arrived at his table and he realized that the other boy’s words were meant for him. He turned his head, and attention, to the newcomer and raised one of his eyebrows in response to the question and the offer. He studied the guy for a few moments, quite hesitantly, for he could not be sure of anybody who dared to visit The Hog’s Head but at the end, he nodded to the seat in agreement, giving his newfound drinking partner the permission to sit down. He could hardly imagine the other guy to be dangerous.
- Greetings. Dwayne Winterburn is my name. – he introduced himself in the way he was taught to do so. He hoped for the same from his partner, as he was almost sure they have never talked before.
- Do I? – he asked with his surprise clearly shown on his face. – Well, I would like to humbly apologise for that impression, it was not intentional. I can strongly assure you that there is nothing wrong with my condition; I might be slightly disoriented but it is just a minor trouble that will move on.
- Hm… - he said while he observed the cubes with his blue eyes. – I had not entertained the thought of playing when I chose this place to come to… but then, why not? I would kindly ask you to explain its methods as I am unfamiliar with that game, I fear. – he leaned backwards in his seat and took a sip of his drink as he patiently waited for his partner to introduce the game to him.

I’m quite pleased that he allowed me to join him. I am convinced also that it’s always more fun to drink together than to do it alone. So I was right as I see, because he doesn’t say to me to get off.
– I am so pleased to meet You, Mr. Winterburn – In said with ironic smile on my caramel face.
– My name is by the way Giacomo. Giacomo Santeria – I just hope he ever saw some part of James Bond movies. I don't mention my second name, it's pointless. I am happy that he is fine, of course it was just an alibi that I told him he looks depressed to sit to his table.
– Of course. Don’t you worry about a thing... cause every little thing gonna be alright – I quote from Bob Marley, my favorite.
While we were talking, the bartender brought us two butterbeers.
– Thanks – I said, then moved my glass to make a toast.  After I drank a sip and smoked a little.
– Cheers.
I liked he is spontaneity, so I start to explain him the game.
–  You should think about a number from 0 to 9 and a color too. Possibilities are: green, blue, red and yellow after the houses of Hogwarts. Cubes will remember your thoughts and show them - only for You, for me they rest invisible until I make my guess... If I guessed right for the both, I can ask something from You to do. It can be a funny thing, like make a loop on the ground or something. So You can win easily and do nothing if you are talented to close your mind... After the guess and the trick someone asked from the loser, the winner has to think about a number and we finish the game when we get bored.
I hope I explained right and understandable.
– Everything is clear? Would you like to start with guessing or thinking?
This game seems easy if someone is good in mind-closing and focusing on others' thoughts. Also it can be funny, if the winner ask something unexpected. I remember once I was playing it at home with my father and he asked me to cut out an old tree, but it was a magic tree, so I couldn't. I was very young, so I couldn't make his wish and I had to give up the game. But for a revenge, the other time I asked him to make me a delicious cake. To be honest it was as hard for him as his wish for me, because he is not a typical kitchen fairy.