Late, but not too late

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“They were fantastic!” Cepheus exclaimed, in somewhat high spirits as they stepped out between the green front doors of Rover’s Fancy. He tugged his navy coat over his shirt though he did not feel the cold just as yet, and turned on the spot on the cobbles to see if his companion agreed. “I haven’t enjoyed a live band quite so much in a long time.”

Maybe it was the band, it wasn’t perhaps Ceph’s preferred musical genre, but they had put on a good show. Maybe had been the atmosphere in the pub - not packed out so much you couldn’t move but busy enough to feel everyone was united as an audience. Ceph had participated in some of the dancing when the rhythms had got his toes and fingers tapping on the table they were sat at. Maybe it was the fact he’d not had a drink all night, or more likely it was the new company.

“No, won’t have a drink tonight either,” he’d assured Arcturus a little after the slightly younger man had appeared and Ceph had greeted him warmly, “rather keep a clear head.” The past week or so had led him to drink more wine than he ever usually reached for, and the observation of such from friends had made him all too conscious. He wasn’t much of a drinker, and he didn’t need to change that. Arcturus didn’t appear to drink at all, he would ask but Cepheus always found quizzing a non-drinker a bit rude. Either way he was glad to buy them some drinks before the music started, and find a space to sit.

Although there had been more than a few familiar faces in the pub - their movements from the bar to the table and roundabouts had been punctuated by waves, arms around him neck and hurried introductions to colleagues and acquaintances he was sure would instantly forget Arcturus for the brevity they lingered, and vice-versa. All politeness really.

Earlier in the week, Ceph’s novice secretary, Kayla, had happened upon the news of a dementor attack through internal gossip, which in turn had been written up in the Prophet. He had toyed with the thought of owling Hollingbury and suggesting in the circumstances it might be prudent to postpone. Dementors were nasty things to come up against even with company. But his first decisions were rarely his best, so he went for his second, which was to pretend he hadn’t heard anything at all. If the healer turned up at the pub it would be to his delight. If he didn’t, well, Ceph wouldn’t blame him at all and would call on him through some means to pass on his regards.

“So,” he addressed Arcturus as they stood together on the cobbles in the dark, voice soft and approachable, “going my way?”

Uilleann pipes still ringing in his ears, Arc answered his companion's happy expression with a small smile. He had initially been quite worried about Gamp not enjoying the music, but it seemed that all his worries were hot air. And, frankly, he was happy about that.

The night had passed as fast as the bodhrán's beats. There had been quick introductions, which had made Arc fairly uncomfortable. But for Cepheus' sake he tolerated them, and honestly that hadn't been too bad. he hadn't spoken that much throughout the night, preferring to close his eyes and drum his fingers on the table to the various rhythms of the different instruments. Maybe there had been one or two times when he was truly compelled to get up and join Gamp in revelling out on the dance floor, but ultimately uncertainty and shyness made him stay in his seat.

It was still a sight for him to watch Cepheus enjoying himself, at least. It put his mind to ease, and he could admit that, now they were out, he hadn't worried about much. He had apologised to Cepheus for not taking drink this night, but...that wasn't a lot.

Though now they were on the doorstep of Rover's Fancy, Arc could feel the apprehension settle back in. It was late, there were few souls making their way back through the Alley. The mere hint of cold and mist in front of his face was enough for him to have little flashes of memory, and already he was loathe to leave, loathe to walk to safety through uncertain times.

"I, uh, are you?" he said. "I hardly know which way you're-- you're going, is it the same?" His head was getting all disjointed again. "You don't have to accompany me, I think, I-- I'll do fine." His hand in his pocket was less truthful, fingers already stretching for his vice.

Ceph’s brows lowered unevenly in puzzlement at Arc’s response, but it was only for a fleeting moment. Perhaps Hollingbury’s sense of direction wasn’t his strong point.
“Well I’m going your way,” he shrugged gently and thumbed up the Alley in the direction of home, the opposite direction to the dark outline of the Leaky Cauldron being rebuilt. “Well, I guess you must be since I chanced upon you the other day to impose cat food rattling.”

The Being Division Head drew a cigarette from his trouser pocket and tucked the rest into his navy coat pocket now he was wearing it. The tip glowed a moment later and he dropped his head back to exhale into the chilly air above them, enjoying both the fresh air and the not so fresh. Last one of the night probably, he told himself.

“Do you -“ Ceph made to offer Arc the cigarette, “though I’m not sure they’re the same…” At the response from his companion he tilted his head to indicate they should start walking. A moment before they did, he waved and gave a thumbs up to someone leaving the pub behind Arcturus. Another familiar face but not worth interrupting his retreat with a new old friend.

“Ahh…” Ceph exhaled another lungful of smoke, turning his head away from Arc as he did. When he looked back he smiled contentedly. “That was a good night. I enjoyed it a lot.” He reiterated. “Thanks for coming with me.” Ceph’s left elbow brushed Arc’s arm as they walked steadily. Due to their very similar height, they had fallen into rough step with each other. “What did you think then, better live, or better recorded?”

"Ah...it's okay." That was just as about as polite as he could get with declining the proffered cigarette, because he'd realised how silly he'd sounded with his response about walking back. Of course Cepheus was going his way. The street was right there. He couldn't be losing it this early.

As Cepheus looked behind him, Arc took the chance to take out his and light it. His hands were beginning to tremble slightly, but he pretended nothing was wrong and had his hands shoved back into his pockets when his companion turned back to him. Thankfully Cepheus' question pulled him away from his thoughts.

"Well, if they play here again I'll be here in a heartbeat." He breathed a stream of smoke into the night air. "Watching them live is much better. There's so much energy you don't get across the radio or in the records. That bodhrán still sends chills up my spine--!" He caught himself and gave an embarrassed chuckle. "I've been listening to them since the year they started. Everything about their history, discography...I don't, um, show it, because it might come off as rude." He cleared his throat and took another drag on his cigarette to calm his nerves.

"How was it for you?" he asked. "Have you ever listened to them before? I'm not sure how popular they are on the radio, um, well in England anyway. They're almost a national pride in Ireland, on the other hand."

The pair of them made their way along side-by-side, smoking. Arcturus was far more animated this evening given the music - he had warmed up through the time they had been together. Ceph was sure he might break into a bit of toe tapping or even dance at one point, but he hadn’t joined him, instead absorbed in the music.
“… There's so much energy you don't get across the radio or in the records. That bodhrán still sends chills up my spine—!”
“Yes!” Ceph agreed, “That’s why I felt compelled to get up and dance!” There was a spring in his step forward as he expressed the need.
”… I don't, um, show it, because it might come off as rude.” Ceph blinked thoughtfully, wondering how Arcturus would come across as rude for being a great fan of the band - perhaps he meant arrogant. Either way he wasn’t.
“You’re not.” He uttered quietly with a calm smile.

"How was it for you? Have you ever listened to them before?”
“Heard a couple of their songs on the wireless, but only in passing. It was curiosity really - live music can be fun and it’s good to have something to look forward to.” He inhaled and coughed slightly before exhaling, the cold air tickling his throat. “I’d definitely see them again. Would you lend me an album for another listen, perhaps? Just to compare?” Cepheus looked hopefully as his companion. He wondered if he might be able to pick out some of the melodies by ear and from memory on the piano.

“Those pipes - they’re a strange looking thing aren’t they?” Cepheus mused, and lifted his elbows, “bellows under one arm and bag under the other. Does look a bit awkward. They must take years to get right.”

Cepheus' little assurances made Arc blink. His uncertainty wavered; it wasn't often that someone simply denied things he believed about himself. "It, I mean, they do. It's a hard instrument. Twenty-one years, I think? I don't...I doubt I'll ever try it, didn't look too hard into it." His hands weren't trembling anymore.

"They don't release albums very often, they like to take their time." If Cepheus was willing to listen, he...could try talking a bit more. "Fifteen tracks per album, but they do last for a while. I prefer to keep the music running in the background at a low volume. I, uh, suppose I can lend you the latest one, though they played a few songs I don't recognise. Maybe a preview for the next one?" Arc mused over this. "They don't usually write songs that early on, but I guess if they have the inspiration they'll probably improve on it."

Out of the corner of his eye he watched his companion smoke. He had to admit to himself, even if he didn't want to, that the man had some fabulous hair going on. The whole time they'd been in the pub he couldn't help noticing. That tousled, messy hairstyle fitted him well.

"Oh, when would you like me to give it?" he asked. Best do it now when he could still remember. "It's no trouble, but I might be looking at a long week ahead."

Arcturus politely explained the band’s approach to writing new material as they walked along. Ceph nodded and provided a quiet hmm to reiterate he was listening, but otherwise remained quiet, content to give Arcturus space to speak. He liked Hollingbury’s voice. He wasn’t very loud, and it had been a bit tricky to hear him in the pub with all the noise. Out here in the dark and the cold it was quiet enough to appreciate what he was saying. Without thinking about it, Ceph smoothed his fingers through his hair, the cold air reaching the back of his neck which was a little damp from dancing in the warm pub.

"Oh, when would you like me to give it? It's no trouble, but I might be looking at a long week ahead.”

“No hurry if you are busy.” He waved his left hand, nearest Arcturus, and the slightest of blushes reached Ceph’s cheeks, “Could always grab it from you tonight - or some other time.” He shrugged off the suggestion, feeling he had just tried to invite himself in. “And thanks.”

An owl swooped low over their heads to land on the top of a shop sign, hooting loudly. Cepheus looked up at it instinctively, and contemplated a new line of conversation. His reflex had been to pick up on the long week comment and ask about it, only Arcturus probably meant his job, and one didn’t want to think about work late on a Saturday evening. He discarded his first idea and returned to the safer topic of music.

“Would you like to go see any other bands, if they’re playing?” Cepheus asked. “Or perhaps we could floo to Ireland one day, go see them at home.” He thumbed back over his shoulder, referring to the band.

He wasn't so sure about letting Gamp into the flat tonight. While he fully trusted Elixa, he felt all nerves about actually having her...see him. Or something. It was all irrational feelings that he couldn't seem to get over. Arc made a slight sound of irritation, masked by inhaling hard on his cigarette. The glowing end burned bright in front of his face.

“Would you like to go see any other bands, if they’re playing? Or perhaps we could floo to Ireland one day, go see them at home.” Arc mulled over this proposal.

"I don't listen to other music, well, not as focused as I do with the Aethonans," he said. "Whatever comes up on the radio is good for me. It does depend on the, um, context of the situation or my mood but I don't actively seek out music unless it engages me and then stays in my head for the rest of the week." He paused. "Actually I think that's how I got into the Aethonans in the first place...heh."

He had to admit that the night was starting to wear thin on his nerves. This was the longest he'd been out at night since the incident! Though the conversation took most of his mind off of it something in his head was still very aware that it was happening around him. The street was mostly quiet and empty now. He thought he could hear gravel crunch under his feet; he blinked hard to bring himself back to the here and now.

A wild thought struck him. "Is it too much to ask for both?" he asked, his tone mischievous though also slightly out of desperation to keep his head grounded. "I have yet to visit Ireland. I'd like to go some day. Do more than music. Though, scrounging up a time to go might be hard, I'm not really supposed to be completely off and away from the hospital after all, would have to find some convenient holiday - that is, if you're not, I mean, you're alright with it."

The cold night air abruptly settled back into silence after he'd finished. It didn't need a lot of self-awareness to know when he was a little too on the edge. Arc took a deep pull in the hopes that it would soothe his frayed nerves.

"Is it too much to ask for both?”
“Both?” Ceph echoed, quizzically.
"I have yet to visit Ireland. I'd like to go some day. Do more than music. Though, scrounging up a time to go might be hard, I'm not really supposed to be completely off and away from the hospital after all, would have to find some convenient holiday - that is, if you're not, I mean, you're alright with it-”
“Yes,” Ceph replied calmly, “Yes I’m alright with it.” He had paused mid-stride beside Arcturus, looking round to him properly. His expression was a little surprised, partly for the fact Arcturus had asked it like that, and partly because he’d heard himself reply without hesitation. They’d just reacquainted, gone to a gig and now they were going on a holiday to Ireland together. Well, theoretically at this point.

He blinked.
“Er…”

His feet continued down the cobbles in the dark taking a last drag of his cigarette before he finished it.
“You heard of the Giant’s Causeway?” Cepheus asked Arcturus, “Great hexagonal stones,” he used both hands to gesture the proportion, arm brushing the other wizard’s twice in the process. “Built by giants between Ireland and Scotland way, way back, well, so giants claim, though wizards had a bit of a hand in it. Torn up in the sea by warring giants on both sides - Muggles know a story of one, but they call him Finn McCool. Definitely need to go there. Catch a quidditch game perhaps. Great landscapes if you like to walk…?” His rising inflection at the end of the sentence indicated the query.

"No I haven't heard." His awareness of the night eroding into fear temporarily turned away to pay attention to what Gamp was telling him. "That sounds fascinating, I'd like to see it. Not quidditch, I-- you know what happened to me last time I flew on a broom. I haven't exactly developed a liking to the sport ever since... I'm not part of the family that likes quidditch." Arc felt the laugh he ended with felt weak. Quick, something to lead off on that note, before Gamp noticed.

"So how were the giants-- wizards, sorry,  involved in..." He was sure something had flickered past, out of the corner of his eye. The tremble was back in his hands,  he flexed his fingers slightly and balled his unoccupied hand briefly into a fist, trying to keep his hands steady. This was going wrong and Gamp-- Ceph didn't deserve this.

The conversation had been going so swimmingly until that stumble of enthusiasm over sightseeing in Ireland. Arc’s voice faded with the query, he looked tense. Cepheus didn’t want the night to end on tense, not when they’d had so much fun before it.

"So how were the giants-- wizards, sorry,  involved in…” Arc asked, stumbling over his words. The confidence of a moment before crashing away like the sea on the causeway they discussed.
“Oh, best a story told with the causeway at your feet.” Ceph kindly smiled. He covered a glance about them for good measure by reaching his arm up to pat Arcturus gently on the back with the palm of his hand. It brought them closer together than they’d been all night, but as Ceph’s head reasoned, no closer than if they had danced together.

“So your place you share with your friend, just up here right?” He gestured ahead with his right hand, dropping his left from Arc’s back. He’d wanted to throw his arm around the healer’s shoulders, dance down the alley terribly humming the Aethonians songs but the pair were mutually neither outgoing nor inebriated enough to compensate. They were approaching, passing the shops that Ceph and Arc had wandered past with the dried cat food the other week, looking for Claude. The walk back had passed a lot more quickly for the company and conversation, and Ceph wished he’d walked a little slower.

“There’s a market on a Sunday morning, further down Diagon,” Ceph ventured, “I sometimes go - not tomorrow morning probably, but another week. Tend to come back with half a dozen books on a good week - well bad week if you consider my vault balance.” He grinned, “If you fancy it, I’d love a bit of company - perhaps get breakfast after?” Their pace was slowing, a subconscious recognition of the doorstep approaching.

Merlin, he was so nice. He was so nice. He looked at the almost finished cigarette, its ember still glowing softly, but barely. He glanced in the direction of the alley, towards the darkness that hid the fortune teller's shop and the door that led to a safe place. Could he afford to keep himself stable until then? He didn't want to think about it.

"Yes, just about." Arc listened to his description of the market, pondering over it. Gamp must have had this good of a time to consider going out again with him. It wasn't as if Arc had said much during their time out tonight, but he supposed for his companion's social preferences it was enough. Still, it was a little much for him to consider right now. "I'll...think about it. I, uh, have a lot on my mind, it depends. I don't want-- I'm not turning you down, just a maybe," he added quickly. "It, I had a good time tonight. Just a little shaken."

Arc considered the possible ramifications of saying that to Gamp. If he asked why, then...Arc owed him an answer. If not, then so be it. He was okay with it either way. They were drawing near now, and his cigarette was almost done; he took one last pull, noting the slight tremble in his hands. "I'm sorry if I seem a bit...a bag of nerves right now," he said quietly. "I've not had a good week. I hope it'll be better next time."

”… I had a good time tonight. Just a little shaken.”

Ceph’s features softened in concern. He had wondered whether the events of the week would prevent Arcturus coming at all, and now he felt he had forced the other wizard out.
“Oh, sorry…” He uttered, voice not quite speaking, caught in his throat.
"I'm sorry if I seem a bit...a bag of nerves right now, I've not had a good week. I hope it'll be better next time.”

“You don’t need to apologise,” Cepheus matched Arc’s volume, expression full of concern. “I wondered if I might not see you tonight, but I am really glad you came. Here,” he slid his wand out of his coat and cast above them, a ball of light rising up, like their own personal streetlamp bobbing along above them. It created a pool of light around them for several metres in all directions. It cast warm light down on Ceph’s face as he looked up at it beside Arc, corners of his mouth lifting with quiet reassurance of light in the dark.

His left hand found Arc’s shaky right once it was devoid of cigarette, their hands were cold from the night’s temperature.
“You’re brave,” he told Arcturus with a bright smile, sensing an automatic denial from his fellow Ravenclaw alumni, he persisted: “No, you are. You had more than a horrible week, and you came out to spend an evening listening to a band with a wizard you barely remember from school over a decade ago. That takes guts.” He gave the hand a squeeze, smile gentle, eyes not leaving Arc’s face, hoping these actions were making him feel a little better about being out. “And, yes, it will be better next time. Whenever you’re up for it. I’m not going anywhere, Arcturus.”

“You don’t need to apologise.” Then why are you apologising? Arc didn't say it, though. He was more than glad of the light gently bathing them; somehow the night gloom became more bearable and he felt himself physically relax a little even though he wasn't quite sure why.

Cepheus' hand making contact with his surprised him. “You’re brave.” "I'm n--" he began, almost automatically. “No, you are. You had more than a horrible week, and you came out to spend an evening listening to a band with a wizard you barely remember from school over a decade ago. That takes guts.”

Arc was genuinely speechless. While Cepheus continued talking, he cast his gaze down at the street as his face flushed. Elixa had given him this sort of speech before, but this time it was coming from someone, as the person had said, he barely remembered from school. That was different.

"...I came because I wanted to have a good time," he eventually spoke, after finding some resemblance of his voice. "And because it would be impolite to leave you alone there. That's not what a friend does." A little pang of fear popped up, but he ignored it after a moment's recognition. Did he mean what he said? He did. "I hope it will be, and yes, I'll go with you to the market."

“You did, didn’t you?” Ceph asked, referring to having a good time. He hoped Arcturus had, and wasn’t reconsidering matters now. The other wizard’s mood seemed poised on a knife-edge given the conversation as they had walked home. He suspected the other man’s self-confidence was lower than his own, and he could empathise. Cepheus regularly encountered a feeling he was an imposter as Division Head, and recent family events had only knocked him back.

“No pressure, Arcturus.” He added quietly and calmly, giving a squeeze to the other man’s hand, before becoming self-aware at what he’d done. “Gosh, I’m sorry, I …” Cepheus blushed and moved aside, releasing the other man from the grip. He came to a momentary halt, left hand instead going to cover his mouth. “It was instinctive - sorry…” For the man who had told Hollingbury not to apologise, Cepheus Gamp was now profusely apologising, red cheeks all too apparent under the floating light above them.

The Division Head cleared his throat self-consciously.
“Shall we?” He asked, gesturing in the direction they had been heading until that moment, unaware that the doorstep of 277b was right there, the windows above the Divination shop were just lit behind drawn curtains, despite the hour. At an inference that actually this was home for Arcturus, he brushed aside a little disappointment. “Oh, oh right.”

Could it be more awkward, he wondered as they ended up face to face on Hollingbury’s doorstep. Cepheus lifted his wand again, the orb above them slowly dissipating.
“Well then.” He began, mustering confidence, and drawing himself up a little. “Thank you for coming with me. It was really lovely to see you.” Gosh this was coming out like a script from an etiquette book. “I look forward to next time.” He smiled, and the nervous bumbling eased in his heart and he extended his hand to shake, maintaining eye contact.