7:25 p.m.

Old Brick was filled with noise as people laughed and spent time with each other. The groups who worked at the Daily Prophet always seemed to be the loudest, in Moira’s short experience at this establishment. It was the perfect kind of place to be when a person didn’t want to be alone with their thoughts.

Moira sat at one of the back tables where she could see everyone. She was leaning back in her chair, appearing relaxed but also like she didn’t want to be bothered to keep a friendly stranger from trying to make conversation. Fortunately, everyone seemed to get the message and she was left in relative peace.

Catching snippets of conversation, listening to whatever music (if it could be called that) was being played from the stage, and watching general behaviors kept the young wix completely focused. Her own thoughts, grim hopes that no one would die over the next few days, were kept in the back of her  mind. The now half empty glass of whiskey in front of her had helped as well.

One couple had already been escorted out by a friend, another group was getting close to leaving, and a larger group that had pulled tables together was just getting started. There was talk of work, quidditch, and no short of small jabs at each other’s love lives. All of it was incredibly mundane and normal. No whispered worries about the approaching full moon or the rumored direwolves. Most likely none of them knew how serious it was or even knew enough to care. Moira couldn’t decide if they were lucky in ignorance or not.

The song changed tones as she took another drink.

Neville had started to come to The Old Brick late in the previous year. The Leaky Cauldron felt too old and the Three Broomsticks was too familiar - he also wasn't keen on a bar so close he could easily stumble home at the end of the night. It was too easy to over indulge. He wasn't a big drinker but lately coming out had felt better than staying in.

Three weeks prior, just before the Holidays, Neville's Gran had passed. She had been in a magically induced coma for nearly two years and had finally succumbed. Arrangements had been quickly made and a well attended funeral had come and gone. The guilt of of never being able to find her attacker weighed heavily on Neville, almost as heavy as the burden of knowing his father had no idea it had happened. It led him to wondering how long it would be before he'd be making similar arrangements for his own parents.

Neville had been heading to the back of the room towards the washrooms when a gaggle of women exited the ladies room and were on a path to intercept him. Much to his dismay Neville noticed his ex fiance was amoung them. Before she could take notice of him Neville ducked into the nearest chair, seating himself across from Moira.

He put his finger to his lips, and then downed his pint, obscuring his face as the gaggle of women walked by without even noticing him. He placed his empty pint on the table as he gave a lopsided grin to the girl, "Sorry bout that, Ms. Mcboid. Ex. Really didn't want to have that conversation right now." Though he could have easily walked into an even more awkward one as he had managed to seat himself across from a former student.

Suddenly, without warning a larger gentleman whom Moira immediately recognized sat opposite her. Then he hid his face. The man was one Neville Longbottom, Auror and previously he had been her Herbology professor. He had nothing to do with full moons or werewolves or murders (aside from any that he might be stuck investigating). That alone was enough to cheer the witch up even marginally.

Moira cast a subtle glance towards the group her old professor was clearly avoiding, observing them as they giggled and tittered on their way to the lower floor without drawing attention to herself. From what she remembered he had always been the friendly, sociable type. Seeing him avoiding people like this was very odd.

The answer came shortly after, fortunately, so she didn't wonder for very long. Exes tended to be troublesome as a rule. Ex lovers, ex comrades, ex friends…. Few had the fortune to part with exes on  good terms.

"No apology necessary. The chair was unoccupied and mine is a good table to hide at." Unless those people were observant or had the random luck to notice her. Moira had worked hard over the years to be unnoticeable, someone to look over. As it turned out, even in the world of beasts, being just another face in the crowd was a very useful skill to have.

Fortunately for the young witch, everyone she didn't want to see for the next few days at least were most likely too busy to be out this evening or they had better places to be.

"Other than that," she nodded her head in the direction where the women had disappeared, "how have you been since you left Hogwarts?" Just over half of her whiskey was gone and already she was feeling more relaxed and talkative than usual.

Neville smiled easily when she accepted him at her table. Or at least she hadn't told him to get lost. He waved at a passing server to order another pint and thanked Moira for accommodating him. He didn't freely offer up any more information regarding Hannah but he wasn't as tight lipped to anyone that asked.

He chuckled a little at himself when she asked how he had been the last two years. The Auror life was never a pretty one despite how much young wixes often romanticized it, "oh you know, catching the bad guys." He offered though he doubted she'd believe his airiness about it. She didn't need to know about his unsolved cases, his Gran's attack and eventual death or even his Pentral Possession. At least not right away. After all he didn't really know her. Sure, he had been her Professor and he personally felt that he had come to know his NEWT students better than any of the younger years but that still wasn't saying much.

"How bout you? You should be graduated now, yeah? How's adulthood treating you?"

Moira quirked an eyebrow at her old professor. ‘Catching the bad guys’ was certainly one way to breeze past a question. Between everything she read in the paper and some things she’d heard from her peers she knew it wasn’t anything that simple. Or easy. Still, she didn’t push the question. It wasn’t like she knew him all that well. Their student/teacher relationship had been just that.

In the natural way of things, from her observations, the wizard turned the question back on her. “Aye,” she gave her usual terse reply, pausing to take a drink of her whiskey before she elaborated. “I started working a few months ago at a menagerie ranch. I enjoyed Hogwarts,” the learning aspect of it anyway, “but I like this much better.”

Moira did not go on to admit that she worked all day most of the week. If it wasn’t at the ranch then she was working at home. If she wasn’t working she was studying about different creatures she didn’t see much of and how best to care for them.

“Then sometimes I don’t feel like staying home, so,” she shrugged a shoulder as though to say ‘here I am’. “It’s amazing the people you might see out and about on an ordinary night.”

Neville nodded along to her answer, sipping his beer. He wondered if he should make a comment or not. He had taught Herbology during his few months as a Professor. He did his best to get to know his students in that time (especially the older ones as the smaller class sizes offered more one on one time) but admittedly he didn't know any of them well enough to be surprised about their career choices after graduation.

The response itself seemed typical of those who had left the school. Given the nature of Hogwarts and how much time one spent in the castle, many enjoyed the experience and felt like it was their second home but a growing Wix would almost always be happy to be out and about in their new adult lives. Perhaps a longing for simpler days remained but that was all part of growing up and moving on. Neville himself had some fond memories of living at the Castle but given the bullying and the eventual war, he was certainly happy to have his Hogwarts days behind him.

“Then sometimes I don’t feel like staying home, so,”

"Cheers to that," he lifted his pint. Being home could be a comfort but so often it was a reminder of how alone he was and all the things he had lost. While he certainly didn't regret Hannah leaving (as evidenced by him hiding from her earlier) he still missed that added comfort of having someone to come home to.

He took a look around the bar at the various patrons enjoying their night out, "anything, or anyone, interesting out tonight?"

Moira gave a small shake of her head before she answered his question. She doubted her former Herbology Professor would be curious about the mundane conversations around them. “Not really, depending on your definition. Someone tried to join the band on stage earlier but they were quickly removed. It's mostly been quiet.” Quiet and decidedly uninteresting, to most.

“Then again, the residents of that corner table might test to see if you're really off duty in a couple more drinks.”

The people at said table had been playing a game of cards without much variance in the winners and losers. The latter group seemed to be growing increasingly temperamental with each loss. Maybe they were getting stuck paying for all the drinks.

Moira made that kind of bet once and all she ended up owing was a single beer.[1] It cost her little more than some information and what she had learned in return made the game well worth it. Neville, though, wasn’t grumpy or close-mouthed enough to suggest it.

1.	[December 2] Time Out