Mark let his knuckles rap on the door. He looked down at his feet, his satchel around his chest, and his duffle bag in his hand. Mark was exhausted, his eyes were puffy, and he felt lost. Like a lost puppy. He had packed up all of his things out of their apartment, and moved out, leaving Julie all of the things they had bought together. It was kind of sad, the way he could pack his whole life into one little bag.

"James? If you're in there, I need you."

Jim was scratching away at this piece of parchment, he needed to get these budget plans set for Mr. Pickering tomorrow, they were working on a huge project, they were planning a huge event for national astronomy/stargazing day on April 28th, he needed to get all of the funds set so they could make enough galleons to pay for the event.

A knock came upon the door. Jim waited a moment, trying to make sense of these figures, when he heard a voice on the other side. Jim tossed his quill down, "Mark?" Jim undid the chain lock and opened the door. His friend was standing the empty hallway, the ugly brown carpet under his feet. Hunter looked tired and disheveled, like the weight of the world had body slammed him and he had been splashed by Niagra Falls. "Hey Man, what's up?"

Mark rubbed the back of his head. "James, I, well, screwed up. Big time. Julie left me, and I did some stuff I regret." He explained. Mark stared at his feet, feeling ashamed. "I didn't know where else to go, I mean, uh, can I come in?" He asked. James was always there for him, and the last thing he needed was to lose his best friend.

"It's not good what I did, James. Really really not good." He repeated.

"Well, yeah, sure come on in, what happened?" James opened the door all of the way, grabbing the bag at Mark's feet. "Wait, Di-did you hit her? And what happened there?" Jim pointed at the edge of a gash on Hunter's chest. "Don't tell me it was something stupid like you came home drunk and hit her, because I'd break up with you if you did that, 'cause that's just stupid."

Jim would never hit Tina, he might get riled up from time to time when he was tipsy, but never enough to hit his girlfriend. But, Julie would fight back, and Mark would never hit Julie.

Mark's eyes grew. "No! No, never! Never! Oh god, no! I couldn't even live with myself if I did that! Oh god! No!" Mark backpedaled. That would have been terrible. "The gash is, uh, well, It's kind of a long story." Mark walked into the apartment, and sat down in one of the chairs. "I don't know. I just, ugh." He put his face in his hands. "What am I really going to even do without her? Like, really!"

Mark looked up. "Some assassin tried to kill me, cut me, but then stabbed herself, so I fixed her up, and I, well, I," He returned his head to his hands. "I just screwed up. I wanted to understand who wanted me dead, and well, I brought her back to my apartment, and paralyzed her, and, oh god. I seem like a massive pervert right now!" He said raising his hands.

"Dude! I literally sound like a pervert!"

"Okay!" Jim put his hands "Whoa Whoa Whoa.. WHAT?! You got - A aswhat? An ASSASSIN TRIED TO KILL YOU? AND WHAT KIND OF ASSASSIN STABS HERSELF? A bad one. Damnnit Mark! Stop being so nice, you have to be assertive! You drag the bitch somewhere other than your apartment and interrogate her!" Jim stopped a moment. "Yeah, you really can put any of those words together in a sentence, no matter what way you do it, you sound perverted,I sound perverted, which isn't unusual, but yeah, bad word choice."

Jim got back onto the topic. "But, never mind that! You should go after her, but when you think she's ready for it, so if that's a few days or a few weeks, you'll have to explain to her what happened, not using the word choice you just used. Until she's ready, you can camp out here if you want, I can set up the pull out couch for ya."

"See, James, that's the thing. I did interrogate her. With a potion. A potion that made her think terrible things, and dehydrate her." He put his head in his hands. "I feel so guilty, the way she screamed for it to be over. I caused her pain! And I didn't care! It was not even two minutes after Julie left, and, well, I felt like it was my only option."

He raised his face. "Never did find out why the bloke wanted me dead, but by then, I would have been sobbing as hard as she was." Mark sat up, and straightened his sweater. "I don't even know what got into me. Should I send her flowers or something? The assassin, I mean. Not Jules. I'm going to find her later, and apologize. When I feel a little better."

Jim plopped down on his chair and put his head in his hands. "Mark, you don't send an assassin flowers!" James looked up at Mark. "That bitch probably got what she deserved, you also can let potions solve all of your problems." Jim said, standing up and walking to the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of butterbeer and popped the cap. "Come sit down over here." He pointed to a stool in front of the wooden counter.

James placed a mug onto the bar counter and whipped out his wand. He heated the yellow beverage as he poured it into the mug, creating the perfect temperature and flavor. "Here, this will make you feel a little better." Jim slid the foamy drink over to Mark. "and.." Jim dug through his pantry, finally pulling an orange roll from behind a bottle of olive oil, he spun around in one motion and placed the roll on the counter. "... Hobnobs, I keep them around just for you."

James knew that Mark would never refuse his favorite cookie, he'd be back to normal, geeky, awkward Mark in no time.

Mark walked into the kitchen, and sat on the stool. James heated himself some butterbeer, and Mark sipped it. There was no way this man knew Mark so well. It was almost creepy. But in a loving way. James was his best friend. And for obvious reasons. Mark stared at James for a moment, as he offered the cookies. He shot a look like, really james? I'm 24, not 11. But, a few seconds went by and Mark broke down to a smile.

He opened the cookies and started to munch. "I don't know, man, I mean, I really miss her. I feel like, well, I'm not me without her, you know? Her side of the bed was so weird last night. And empty. Really empty."

James bit a cookie in half, smiling. "That's okay to miss her, every time Tina goes to visit her parents, I feel like there's a heart shaped, cookie cutter-sized hole right here." James pointed to his chest, looking down, he moved his finger to the other side of his chest. "No, here, your heart is on the left side, right? Or was there something about wizards having it on the right? Or, Or, I've just been watching too much Doctor Who." James said, popping the rest of the HobNob into his mouth.

Jim was ready to give Mark some very important girl advice, advice that he would tell his son one day. "Dude, I have been with so many girls, I can't even remember half of their names, but with girls like Tina and Julie, you gotta fight for them, or else you're gonna regret it." James said seriously, taking a butterbeer out for himself and taking a swig. "I remember this one muggle girl, Jenessa, I dated her over the summer when you moved away, she was a great kisser by the way, and when she broke up with me I thought it was the end of the world." James took a sip of the butterbeer.

"Anyways, so I had that cookie cutter feeling, but I started hanging out with my dad and his friends and we blew shit up with magic, and I completely forgot about her, didn't care anymore, so, here's the plan: We, are going to go into the woods tomorrow, with a large bowl of large melons and we are going to blow them up until you feel better, then, when you are not-sad mark anymore, you will go get your woman! Got it?" James said, snapping his teeth into another cookie.

"James, buddy, that seems dangerous. Like, really dangerous. Blowing melons up? In the woods! You don't see the danger in that?" Mark said, in a concerned way. Of course James didn't see the danger in that. "Maybe we can just go get a drink tomorrow instead. Or! Or, or, or! We can read some poetry about love, and death!" It was true. Mark was back to his sensitive, geeky, and awkward self.

"She did leave a cookie cutter shape. Only it was a circle. And it encompasses everything." Mark slumped down, and put his head in his arms. "What am I going to do without her, James?"

"I can't believe I am saying this..." Jim ran a hand through his hair. "....but, we are going to solve this problem, without drinking." As Mark continued, Jim slammed his fist on the counter, the butterbeer shook, "NO! No reading poetry about love and death, none of that corny shit! We are MEN! And MEN do MANLY things like playing soccer and being lazy, not doing what we're told to do, and eating junk, and flying wrecklessly on a broom!" james came out from behind the counter, throwing his hands in the air.

"We MEN do not NEED WOMEN! There would be no woman without MAN, I mean, like, it's in the word! woMAN, it's right there!" Jim grabbed Mark by the shoulders. "Starting now, you will be put through several tests concerning fun and no girls. It's just like being 8 again, NO GIRLS ALLOWED!" James pulled out his wand. "First thing ...ah-screw it, I want a real drink." Jim released Mark and went back behind the bar. "It's MANLY firewhiskey time!" Jim put to shot glasses on the table and a full bottle of firewhiskey.

"I bet I can drink more than you." Jim challenged, popping the cork from the bottle with the corkscrew his name was graved into.

Mark knew he shouldn't drink till he was sick. He knew it was a bad idea. But he was a man. And not some momma's boy. He was single! And he was going to celebrate! His brain started to fight.

Mark, no. This is wrong.
Oh hush. This'll be fun!
What would Julie say?
Forget her! You're single now! Who's going to mind a little drinking!

...And Mark gave in. "Oh, James, you are so on." He took another bottle of firewhisky, struggling with the cork, before taking out a swiss army knife and wedging it out. "Okay. Start on one... Two..."

"Three!" James down the first 10 shots like a pro, but then, a little birdie whispered in his ear. He was going to let mark have this one, je needed the biggest confidence boost one could get. Jim deliberately started pouring slower, the only way to keep himself from drinking like mad person, every bone is his body protested to his losing, he wanted to win so badly, but to lose was a good cause.

When his bottle halfway empty, he was beginning to worry about Mark, the only way to stop was was to do... well... JIm keeled over and pretended to puke. "Oh Jesus! Oh God, that is putrid!" Jim slammed his fist on the counter several times. "You win dude, you beat me!" He raised his head and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He looked at Mark with fake dis-belief. "No one beats me at drinking! You've been praticing haven't you?"

Mark never slowed his pace, and didn't notice James slowing his. By the time James pretended to puke, Mark was incredibly hammered, and stumbling around. He felt surging pride in his chest. He was so proud! He just beat James Lotusorder in a drinking contest! No one did that! Ever! But his logical mind that would have realized this fact was nearly nonexistent, and so, he felt he actually won.

"No! No practice! Just luck!" He hiccuped. "Awesome. Really really awesome. Hey! You wanna go race brooms!" He said excitedly, as he stumbled about.