It was very becoming for a wizard to shake a dried cat food box while walking up Diagon Alley. Definitely the latest fashion, Darian Morgan, Coralie Malkin and Runwitch would be calling him a trendsetter in days. This was the knowingly ridiculous lie Cepheus told himself as he rattled it in his left, calling out at irregular intervals.
“Claaaaude!”

It would be two days if he didn’t turn up tonight. Cepheus was trying not to consider all manner of unfortunate events that could have occurred to his moggie outside of their Diagon Alley flat. He wasn’t a particularly beautiful cat, so he doubted anyone would want him for gloves. Nor was he a fantastically trusting feline who would wander off tempted by pets or ham. A tin of tuna would perhaps turn his head, but unless someone had hexed him or stunned him, he’d come home. Perhaps he was trapped somewhere. It wasn’t normal.

He’d hoped to see him curled up asleep on the sofa when he got back from the office that evening, legs akimbo, fur rubbed across the cushions as if he were trying to suggest to Ceph the sofa would look better in black and white. Failing that, curled up asleep at the foot of his bed like he did on cold nights. Even a naughty crap in the bath would have been acceptable to the wizard at this point.

Anything to get rid of the horrible thought that someone had purposefully cat-napped his cat to get revenge for his parents. It made him feel sick.

“Claaaaaude!” Ceph gave the box of dried cat food a more enthusiastic shake as he paused at the end of a narrow passageway that ran between the shops a dozen doors down. He’d seen Claude shoot out of there after scrapping with other cats, and it led to a yard shared by a fishmonger’s.

The enthusiastic shake led to the corner of the box flying open, scattering dried cat food across the cobbles of Diagon Alley.
“Shit!” Ceph exclaimed, uprighting the box on hearing the rattle of them on the ground. He gave a laboured sigh and reached into his navy blue duffel coat pocket for his wand to clear away the mess, catching sight of someone the other side of the alley.

“Not seen a smug looking black and white cat have you?” Ceph called to the wizard, the dried food pieces bouncing across the cobbles back towards him as he cast wordlessly. The top of a dustbin beside the passageway entrance rattled and lifted, allowing the food to leap up and fly in.

There was something familiar about the guy he’d just asked, Ceph thought, looking back again and paying better attention. “Do I know you?”

Chilly as it were, Arcturus had little care for the cold and even less for whatever was happening around him as he took a stroll through Diagon trailing bluish smoke. The end of his cigarette glowed brighter for a moment as he pulled on it, feeling the blanket of calm settle on him.

He leaned against a wall to let the feeling sink in, cushioned by his coat and shielded by the side of the building from the light breeze. It was not that late for people to be wandering about in the alley, though fairly advanced into the night that these people were few and far between. Arcturus liked that. It was solitude and yet a reminder that he wasn't completely alone.

The man he'd seen rattling a box had stopped opposite of him. Arcturus watched as a cat would in mild interest, not moving save for the trail of smoke winding its way up in front of his face. Apparently this fellow was calling for something - a pet? Dog? No, a dog would come running if it weren't engaged. A cat? Maybe. There were a lot of cats in the alley that would've liked the food now flying all over the place, but tonight was not that night.

“Not seen a smug looking black and white cat have you?” Arcturus shook his black and white head, and went back to closing his eyes and enjoying another pull, other hand in pocket to keep warm. He'd forgotten his gloves.

“Do I know you?” Arcturus opened his eyes mid-inhale and automatically focused properly on the wizard asking him. He frowned a little, digging around in his head for any recollection or even impression that he'd ever seen this person. Information that had long since not been used tended to get lost in his memory.

The other wizard looked like he was an expecting an answer. Arcturus wasn't coming up with anything, but he felt pressured to reply. "Um, I'm not sure," he said, taking his cigarette between his fingers. "Do you live in Diagon? Maybe just as passers-by."

The bloke smoking didn’t seem to fussed about answering at first. Cepheus approached cautiously as the rubbish bin lid clanged shut over the spilled cat food. It would have only been eaten by the rats, rather than cats, he figured.

“I do.” He confirmed with a nod, “Perhaps.” He shrugged and appeared to be turning away, the box of biscuits rattling as he did.

“Sorry for bothering you,” he apologised automatically like any good British person, and stopped in the middle of the Alley, looking one way and then the other with frustrated despair at the absence of Claude.

“I’d do the same,” he spoke again, as if he hadn’t just apologised for bothering and implied he’d not speak to the other wizard, “only I’ve probably had half a dozen already today. Been one of those weeks.” He looked back to the wizard with black and white hair, sneaking another look at his features, and gestured smoking with his hand, light coloured spruce wood wand caught between his fingers as a cigarette might.

“I do know you. Gosh it’s been a while.” Cepheus remarked, wandering a few paces closer. “Couple of ‘claws - you were a few years behind me? Ceph Gamp.” He pinned the box of cat food between his knees, skinny maroon jeans just visible beneath the long duffle coat. His wand went back inside it before he offered his hand to shake. “You er, rescued me once.” He studied the other man’s face for recognition, “The er, muck heap … care of magical creatures.” Ceph blushed, “Merlin, this is embarrassing if you’re not who I think you are.”

Arcturus nodded at his apology just as automatically and took another pull. Did this week warrant that much inhaling? Probably. Ever since the 12th he'd been feeling slightly down in the dumps. A feeling he couldn't shake off no matter how much he tried to spend time making himself happy in his favourite things. Work was, as usual, no less busy and stressful. Things tended to pile up.

The other wizard surprised him. He opened his eyes, wondering if the wizard just wanted to talk to someone. That wasn't a problem, plenty of people just wanted to talk to him, it was just that they asked first. He watched the wizard make a similar gesture to his, although not his smoking style - Arcturus fancied holding his cigarettes between the thumb and forefinger, with the glowing end hidden safely behind a palm. But no doubt the other wizard was used to the activity.

Ceph Gamp. Some furious digging was going down. Arcturus' gaze drifted as he tried to recall. Muck heap? Care of magical creatures? That felt like aeons ago. But there was a muck heap, and his little kid self making an effort (badly) pulling on a hand sticking out of it. The embarrassment from the consequential muffled "Ow! No!" was something he did remember a bit too well for his liking.

"I do remember that," he said, getting off the wall. "You got put there by Slytherins, am I right? Something like that? And we managed to get you clean...somehow." Like bubbles in a swamp slowly rising to the surface to pop and release its gaseous contents, another memory had managed to hitch a ride to the top. "And you...you're the one who helped me to the hospital wing on my first flying lesson. I'd never had a dislocated jaw in my life before 'til that. Arcturus Hollingbury."

He clapped his hand to the proffered one in a firm grip, just as another bubble popped. "You're Andromeda's brother, aren't you?" he asked abruptly. "I remember that...letter."

That had been one terrible day in Spring 1994, Ceph’s sixth year at Hogwarts. He’d been mucking out Hagrid’s hippogriffs, since the Slytherins had declared that Buckbeak and the rest of them were far too dangerous to muck out following Draco Malfoy's incident. In Ceph's opinion, Buckbeak could have saved them all the whining of Malfoy by eating him whole.

Thankfully the muck heap Cepheus ended up in hadn’t been the one the hippogriff dung went into, but the herbivore dung instead. Small mercies. Instead the third years had been mucking out those and this wizard, well, 17 years earlier, had been one of those.

”… by Slytherins, am I right?” Ceph cracked a self-conscious smile. He’d always been weedier and an easy target for Slytherins who found amusement in upending unsuspecting students with little risk of instant retaliation.
“Yes!” He agreed, forgetting that incident until it was mentioned. He felt a little better now for the equality in embarrassing memories. “Doesn’t look like it affected you long term.” He smiled warmly as they shook hands.

Arcturus Hollingbury! Gosh, he was another shorter one - though he’d shot up a bit since Ceph had last seen him, an inch, maybe two, taller than himself stood on the street there. Long, elegant nose, subtle smile, softer spoken than he remembered.

“Letter?” Ceph asked, releasing Arc’s hand. He caught the cat food in one hand and placed it down between his feet on the cobbles, “Oh yes! You and Andie - the year after I left.” He clapped a hand to the top of his head, squashing his dark brown hair on remembering.

“Sorry about that, just had to fulfil the big brother obligations, though actually my sister would have handed you your backside had you not been such a gentleman.” He glanced more carefully to Arcturus. “You were a gentleman, right? I know you two didn’t… Though right, yes, she mentioned she ran into you the other day.” His hands animated his conversation, gesturing between them both. “Hadn’t expected to run into you myself.” He gave a slightly exaggerated shrug.

“How are you doing, anyhow? You look well.” Ceph asked, his tone altogether a lot more positive than it had been calling after his missing cat a few minutes earlier.

While Arcturus had most of the people in his house fade into obscurity in his head, the memory of dislocating his jaw had stayed strong with him. It might not have defined his strong dislike for broomsticks, but it may have been the start of darkness, as it were.

"Me? Gentle-- aha." That date. He knew he had an awkward, almost terribly contrite grin on his face, and he wasn't about to change it. "If you meant something more than just sitting down in whatsthatplace - Madam Puddifoot's, that's it - no, nothing of that vein at all. I was well aware your sister was more than skilled in taking care of herself. Not going to kick a wasp's nest."

Arcturus' eyes dropped to the box of cat food momentarily. "I've been--" Great? "--good. Job, living, maybe just one of those people with a normal job. Nothing exciting, but I like it that way. What about you, where are you working now? You were really into magizoology last time, but, you know, things could've changed." He offered a less terrible smile before taking a quick puff on his still lighted cigarette.

”.. not going to kick a wasp’s nest.” Arcturus remarked and Ceph laughed. Sounded like Andie. Even back then as a fourth year she could kick you in the shins as good as another. He felt very glad Andromeda was his sister and not his enemy.

Hollingbury modestly explained what he’d been doing since the wizarding world had gone to shit and sorted itself out. He was pretty sure Andie had mentioned something about him being a healer. Best not to assume too much, what with both siblings running into the poor guy in a month or however long. He might get some strange idea the Gamps were stalking him.

"- you were really into magizoology last time…”

“I was - I am, well, not so much the beasts, but beings these days.” He shrugged his shoulders very gently. “I was at Gringotts a couple of years, then worked my way up in the Ministry when Shacklebolt took over.” He gave a bashful smile, slipping his hands into his navy duffle coat’s pockets. “Being Division Head, these days.”

It felt like he was bragging to say it like that, but didn’t mean it. It was pride, it was still the fact he pinched himself once or twice a week while brushing his teeth.

“Merlin, look at the two of us. Adults. Mortgages, marriages… maturity?” He raised both his eyebrows, leaning back ever so slightly. “I’ve achieved none of them, personally - can't even find my ruddy cat. You?”

"Sounds like you've been having yourself a grand time," he said sincerely. "Congratulations on getting to division head. No, I've achieved none of that either." Arcturus looked around. "So that's what you've been doing out here rattling that box? Looking for your cat? If I'm any judge it'll probably come back later and make you worry yourself to bits, or already be back at home, but don't hold me to that - I own a kneazle who can't be bothered to leave the house unless I make him."

He gestured into the almost deserted alleyway with the hand holding the cigarette. "Do you want help looking for your cat? I'm no animal tracker, but two heads are better than one and no one should have to hunt for their pet alone. Cats." He shrugged. "I'm not doing anything of any importance, so let me just stop loitering and give you a hand."

“Thank you.” Ceph replied quietly, bowing his head a second as Arcturus continued. “Really? Hm, Claude is a creature of habit,” the former Ravenclaw leaned down again to retrieve the bright red and yellow box of Chimeramix, fingers checking it was secured properly to avoid any more spillages.

“He’s been gone two days, which is very unlike him. Food untouched at home.” Cepheus gestured generally in the direction he had walked, the box rattling. He lived above Floribuster’s Florist - Claude was rather fond of watching the comings and goings from within their windowboxes. The florists hadn’t spotted him when he asked.

“Hopefully he will just turn up at home, be there licking his arse as if he’s been there all along.” His look down the alley defied his happy optimism that the cat would do just that. He genuinely missed it - the flat was very quiet without him. Merlin! The thing had only been gone two nights!

"Do you want help looking for your cat?” Arc's offer was incredibly kind, but instantly made Ceph realise he was perhaps worrying far too much about it. Hollingbury was being polite - he'd almost ambushed the poor chap in the street while he had a smoke.
"I er - gosh, that's very kind of you and all, but - I just ran into you, and you don't need to feel obligated. As you say, he'll probably just turn up, I erm..." For all his backtracking he suddenly looked at Arcturus properly. It was an unconventional way to reacquaint oneself certainly, but there were worse ways.

... They'd done worse ways. At least there was no manure or broomsticks involved this time.
"That's very kind of you, Arcturus. Are you entirely sure?" Typically that was a question one could only answer with the positive or an incredibly sarcastic answer that was, again, the positive. "Here, try shaking that, I'll try..."

The marginally shorter wizard reached out the box to Hollingbury and then stuck two fingers in his mouth to whistle loudly, heading in the same direction he had been before he came across his old classmate.
"Been trying to train him to the whistle," Ceph explained, "does that work on Kneazles? Claaaude!" He whistled loudly again. "Sorry, what did you say you did again?"

Cepheus' whistling made Arcturus jump, though he pretended he hadn't. He looked down at the box in his hand; he had definitely agreed to this, but he wasn't so sure about their chances of finding the cat tonight now come to think of it.

Arcturus however didn't have the heart to be that blunt to someone he'd meet after not seeing them for such a long time. A little bit of hope didn't hurt.

"It doesn't work on kneazles," he admitted. "I'm not so sure about cats. Does Claude hunt? He might get hungry and come back when, you know,  he has no food. Sorry?" He had been so intent on following that train of thought about the cat. "Oh, what I do?  I'm a healer with St Mungo's, Potion and Plant Poisoning. Have been for the past decade." And forever felt that he still had a long way to go. "Just a healer, nothing too fancy." He gave the box a somewhat reluctant but loud rattle. "Nothing too exciting, either. I don't remember seeing you around that much, did you ever leave the country? Wait, that's a bit of a silly question, I imagine you did due to your line of work." He gave a nervous laugh, suddenly aware that he was terrible at asking personal questions.

“Really?” Ceph replied, stopping himself from whistling to remark. “You see, just as admirable, if not more admirable than an auror. You’re not blowing people up, you’re putting them back together. That’s definitely the harder job. Though, poisoning, that’s more reassembling the organs once they’ve drunk the wrong potion, hmm?”
”Nothing too exciting, either. I don’t remember seeing you around that much…” Arc asked, and gave a little nervous laugh. It was somewhat endearing to Ceph who felt his old classmate was just being polite and helping him after they’d struck up an awkward conversation.

“Here and there,” Cepheus admitted, he’d not gone in for the big world tour that so many pureblood types did from Britain after Hogwarts, his was a rather more modest affair with a handful of friends. “Not a huge amount of travelling with the Goblin Office. Did a bit a few years ago - working with giants.” Ceph’s fingers had relaxed away from his mouth to whistle and were instead tapping one of the wood fastenings on his coat as he looked to Arc.

"You know they’re at risk of extinction, right?” Probably not, but perhaps he did now, "Well, humans seem infinitely intelligent in comparison. At least we wizards have some variety in the way we settle disputes. Half the point of finding them new habitats was to spread them out and slow the rate they accelerate their own extinction.” Ceph near matched Arc’s nervous laugh, trying to make the other wizard feel a bit better for the questions. “Though in truth, each Being just has a different culture, a different method to navigate the world than we do, without wands. It’s perfectly fascinating as much as it’s ruddy tedious.” He gave another shrill whistle. “Claaaude!”

Curtains twitched at an upstairs window above a green grocer’s they’d wandered in front of, a burly looking figure, lit from behind, disgruntled with the noise they were making.
“Seen a black and white cat?” Ceph appealed up to the window observer, but was resolutely ignored. “Incredibly helpful Sir. Have a lovely evening.” He turned back to Arc and reached out a hand for the box of dried food. “Here, I don’t think I’m going to have much luck tonight without annoying the neighbours. I’ve bothered one enough to have him wander with me shaking cat food in public.” He smiled and bobbed his head, hoping Arc got the joke. “Fancy a cup of tea?”

The words about giants made Arcturus' ears perk up. Though he gave up care of magical creatures after NEWTs there was always something interesting in terms of other people's experiences. He listened quietly and without objection, trying to imagine negotiating with giants. As far as he could try and extrapolate on how one would settle disagreements with a giant, he didn't see much being achieved that didn't end up in disaster or magic being used somehow.

"I think it's more fascinating that there's people who actively try to seek those ways out to establish inter-species communication," he said quietly. "For those who succeed, they open up a new world of knowledge. For those who don't...well, they still did something other than fighting, I guess. There's better things than listening to a patient and wondering how many times you've got to tell them to check the labels before drinking--" He jumped again at Cepheus' shrill whistle from nowhere next to his ear.

A part of him hoped that the disgruntled neighbour wouldn't come hurtling down the steps to chuck some probably well-deserved verbal abuse at them, and was relieved that said neighbour didn't. He handed the box back to Cepheus with a chuckle at his joke. "It's not a bother." He waved the hand holding his cigarette vaguely in some direction. "I can't say no to a cup of tea, so you have my attention. Does your cat do this frequently? I hope not frequently enough for you to become an expected sight at this time of the night with your box."

“No,” Ceph admitted, tucking the box under his arm and turning back the way they had come. “If he did I’d be less worried.” Behind them the curtains at the window were sharply drawn shut on observing their retreat. “Heh, or maybe you’ll meet him in a minute.”

The pair wandered at a more ordinary paced down the Alley, past where Arcturus had been smoking. On the opposite side of the road a shop with sizeable glass windows was lit up, throwing puddles of light onto the cobbles. The air was filled with a slightly sickly floral scent. The cobbles outside Floribuster's were swept clean each morning and evening, though the clutter just inside the door of the shop suggested that a number of the displays were pulled outside in business hours.

Sandwiched between it and the building next to it was an arched passageway full of shadows which opened up into a little courtyard full of empty crates and buckets. Here the floral scent subsided to something more reminiscent of the Hogwarts greenhouses, less blooms and more damp greenery. A set of stone steps with a wrought iron railing laced with a climbing plant, led straight up against the side wall of the florists. It rose over the crates stashed beneath it, and with familiar ease, Ceph darted up them, cat food rattling as he jogged.

At the top he turned to his right to attend to the blue front door, complete with cat flap, leaving his guest paused a few steps down. A jam jar nestled on the doorstep was filled with a dozen cigarette ends was the only blot on the steps, which like the front of the shop were swept clean.

“Here we go,” Ceph spoke at last, the door giving way. The lamps lit and flared, flooding light into a poky little room. It smelled of wax leather coats and shoe polish - the source becoming obvious once Arcturus had followed him in. Coats and cloaks hung to the left beside a well-stocked shoe rack full of boots, wellingtons and more casual footwear. An enchanted brush was independently buffing a pair of brown leather brogues on the top of the rack.

“Claude?"

From here the flat extended on one level to their right, heading back towards the Alley. Once Ceph had hung up his duffle coat he led Arcturus through into a hallway, closed doors to their left suggesting a bathroom, bedroom, perhaps two or a study. Apart from a ravaged toy mouse on the hall floor, there was no signs of his elusive cat.

The kitchen at the end of the hall smelled faintly of Bolognese from dinner but was altogether homely and rather tidy. Despite growing up with a house elf serving the Gamp household, his mother had made sure to teach Cepheus the most useful of domestic charms, which saved a lot of effort. He took a look at the cat food bowls again, but nothing was disturbed.

“How do you take your tea?” Ceph asked, rolling up his shirt sleeves. He reached into a cupboard, pulling out a tin of assorted teas, opening them for Arcturus to inspect. None of them quite seemed to match and gave the distinct feeling a few of them were acquired from the odd Ministry meeting buffet selection.

A short while later the pair wandered into the living room, carrying mugs that suggested Ceph’s love of cats went beyond casual ownership by the designs. Without thinking anything of it, Gamp gestured to one side of the sofa and sank down on the other.

“So you must have had a busy few months, I mean, particularly, at the hospital?” Ceph resumed conversation, moving on from casual discussion of their tea collections, enjoying Arc’s company in the kitchen while the kettle boiled. “What with the serious issue of your supplies being tampered with. However did you cope?”

Arcturus kept quiet as he followed, observing the changing surroundings as his new reacquaintance led him down the alley and into a place that he was not familiar with. Unlike the street-level front door to their apartment, this place was tucked away. Almost neatly, he thought distractedly.

He paused to take a deep breath of the earthy, moist scent of the florist's backyard, letting Cepheus bound up the stairs in the dim light. It wasn't as if the smell was rare for him, but he just liked it. Smells and sights and sounds, a lot of sensory information Arcturus savoured.

"Here we go." Cepheus' voice brought Arcturus back down to earth. He climbed the steps, noted the jar full of cigarette ends, and then instinctively felt the smell of shoe polish replace the fresh earth still lingering in his sinuses. Well. It could have been worse. He extinguished the fading remains of his own cigarette and, partially out of respect and partially because it tickled his whim, added it to the jar.

No meow answered his companion's call. Arcturus took the liberty of hanging up his own coat and scarf, politely sidestepped the sad little lump of artificial rodent on the floor and stopped to appreciate the neatness that surrounded him. He liked everything being organised, and this was ticking off little cosy and homely boxes down some internal subconscious interior design checklist that had its items scattered about the bowels of his mind. Not that he preferred it over the safety and familiarity of the flat he shared with Elixa, or the closeness that his parents' house offered, but this was a different presentation of a home that he could appreciate fully.

"Two sugars," he answered Cepheus' query, hoping there would be no comment on level of saccharine. Under his coat he had eschewed his characteristic usual hoodie for a hastily pulled on jumper. He hadn't thought much about dressing properly for anything since February 12, work notwithstanding. Arcturus also hoped that the last-minute fashion sense wouldn't earn a comment either.

The mugs. Arcturus himself had no comment to make.

"Oh, you mean the contamination?" That was just buying time. Arcturus avoided thinking back to it as much as he could these days. Not only was it a dampener on one's day, he had no intention to stir the pot of suspicions he had of a certain curly-haired friend - friend? redefinition possibly needed - that lurked in some murky room of his mind. "I, well, when you're faced with people's lives teetering on the edge you either focus or panic. I personally incline towards the former." He hoped his discomfort wouldn't show through. It was a topic he'd shelved and hoped he didn't have to get up to go fetch it out again.

"I hope no one you're related to was involved on the wrong end?" he asked, hoping that Cepheus would say no. In the event of a yes, he was prepared to wince. "At the end of the day it wasn't our fault, but it doesn't lessen the severity and definitely not the rumours flying around like Cornish pixies on caffeine. Um." He looked down at the mug he'd carried. The judgemental eyes of the painted dancing feline on the ceramic bore into his soul, and in the face of its oddly entrancing stare he wasn't able to find anything to balance this conversation out.

"Hopefully no one we know," he said awkwardly. Here comes the awkward pause right about...now.

“Mm,” Ceph gave a nod as Arcturus clarified what he was asking.
”… focus or panic. I personally incline towards the former.” Hollingbury explained, and Ceph nodded, balancing his mug on his folded knee as he listened.
“Not closely, no, thankfully. Well, you know what I mean.” Cepheus reconsidered, conscious that made him sound selfish, and lapsed into silence, listening to Arcturus explain. “I have heard a few of the rumours, yes, and the Prophet occasionally runs an article on the latest theory, but it’s relegated to page nine by now. I expect the hospital are keen to suppress the public’s memory of it all.” His thumb rubbed gently against the side of his mug and he looked to Arcturus apologetically. “Sorry, you mentioned you were on the poisoning floor, and it came to mind - probably not the best conversation topic.” He averted his eyes self-consciously.

They shared the awkward pause, sipping their tea.

“You listen to the wireless much?” Gamp asked suddenly, seizing on a safer topic. “There’s a band playing in Rover’s Fancy next weekend... I was thinking of going along - if you’re not working you should join me.” By me he maybe meant whoever else he could convince to come to the pub, but posed casually like that, it might be perceived entirely differently. He sipped his tea, wincing at the temperature. “Bit different to last weekend anyhow. I was at some blind date event.”