It was early in the morning. The pub was crowded - not just with people getting early morning coffee and biscuits, but with people shuffling to work in the Alley beyond. Most of them were yawning, and the crisp air that drafted in from the pub's front door made him glad he'd worn a jacket.

And glad he was a wizard. The parking meter hadn't had the length of time he needed, and after deciding he was too bloody tired to park a mile away...he'd just hexed it. He hoped he didn't get in trouble for that. He'd even paid the full amount, because it made him feel better about it.

Maybe he should have just Apparated. But it had been nice to drive his car again. Up until he hit the traffic coming into London, anyway.

Regardless, he'd arrived half an hour early, which gave him time to sit and eat a quick breakfast before heading into the Alley. He sat at one of the small tables near the exit to the Alley, coffee and scone set aside as he eyed his paperwork. The rest of it sat in his briefcase, with was leaning against his calf.

Lawyers! By the time all this was over he'd owe them his house, he was sure. He was attempting to decode the legalese on the details of this inheritance...and failing. Muggle legalese was simpler, he was sure. Maybe this was actually enchanted to be confusing...

Either way, he needed more coffee. He reached for his cup, not taking his eyes off the length of parchment in front of him, and his fingers slipped on the glass. He lurched, trying to catch it - but before he could, the glass slid off the table and splashed one of the people heading past his table towards the alley, the splash of hot liquid only being accented by the sound of the glass thudding onto the floor. Thankfully it was unbreakable - though that was hardly on Tapendra's mind. He turned the color of his hair, standing quickly.

"I am so sorry-" he started, his voice cutting off in a grunt as his thighs hit the underside of the table and rocked it, his scone rolls off its plate and nearly off the table entirely. "A-are you alright?"

Whistling something that was much better musically represented by harmonica (and damn could Huey play the Mississippi Sax), Sissel made his was through the breakfast hour Leaky Cauldron, to Diagon Alley for business. Well, business and pleasure. For business, he needed to stop by the Daily Prophet HQ to access the paper's archives, trying to piece together events. For pleasure, stopping in at Reducto to see how the repairs on his guitar were coming.

Dodging tables, Sissel regretted that he did not have the time to stop for breakfast, a granola bar this morning could only get you thus far. When he was nearly to the door out to the brick backlot and subsequent entry to Diagon, it happened. A coffee cup came hurling from a table and black tar was splashed over his jeans and sneakers.

"Ye-Oww!" Sissel exclaimed, hopping off to the side as the cup rattled away. The coffee flinger lurched out of his chair. "I am so sorry-A-are you alright?"

A breakfast scone followed suit and with quick reflexes Sissel caught it before it hit the ground. Although the coffee had stung Sissel was finding the situation humorous, as the man had not clearly been waiting to dunk people with boiling coffee. "No worries, though add some cream or sugar to that pitch! I thought I was going to eat through my socks. And I'll be taking this as compensation."

As Sissel took a bite from the scone, he took at the dark, ketchup haired giant in front of him. A rather familiar figure from the vestiges of memory. "Wait..." Sissel said, spewing crumbs. "Trishna? Trishna, that one who was friends with Sonya Shokavic and the Blairs and Judy Greenburg?"

Even though they were a year apart and from different houses, the tall figure of the red haired brown skinned Ravenclaw was a distinctive image. Back when Sissel was on the Quidditch team (before hunkering down into studies) he used to joke that it was a good thing Trishna didn't play, he could probably guard a hoop just sitting there on his broom.

"Tapendra Trishna!" Sissel said with the full realization. "You went back to teach Astronomy, didn't you? Sissel Jowd," he added, as if that would trigger some recollection. He noticed the papers on the table from the remains of breakfast. "You know, if I became a professor I wouldn't be giving myself homework over the summer."

Tapendra had been expecting a cry of pain and then outrage, then maybe some yelling; if he was lucky it was someone who would be as embarrassed as he was. He hadn't really been expecting the guy to joke around. He started to smile, nervously - and then the man snatched Tapendra's breakfast and started eating it.

"Um -" he started, not really sure what to say that would be polite - he certainly didn't really want his breakfast back half-gnawed, but... "Excuse me, that's mine-"

But the man seemed much more occupied with recognizing him, and somehow in this situation Tapendra didn't want to be recognized. The legal documents were one thing; the fact he'd just spilled coffee like an idiot factored in more. He did smile now, nervously and uncertainly.

He was glad Sissel introduced himself, because Tapendra hadn't remembered the other man's name right and had been about to greet him as Jowls. As if he need more embarrassment.

"Trishna, yes," he said, adjusting his glasses. How did you admit you didn't really remember someone? "You..err, you played Quidditch, didn't you...?" he asked, politely, bending over to fish up his coffee glass. He looked into the glass and sighed; all gone. The sugar that he'd poured in it was all that was left, clinging to the glass as a faint brown and  grainy residue.

Something clicked in his head and he mumbled an apology, pulling his wand from his sleeve and cleaning the coffee off Sissel's trousers and shoes. "Sorry," he muttered again, and then had to look at his papers. "Legal stuff," he said, simply, folding it up and stuffing it quickly into his briefcase.

"Yep, Chaser on the Gryffindor team, sorry the times we trounced Ravenclaw. Up until I stepped down and Potter showed up a year later." This was when his buddy Terrence, having needed a Time Turner to attend all his classes, finally got stretched too thin and dropped classes and the magical time machine so Sissel couldn't free ride anymore. He'd gained an academic benefit from the shared use too and since he wanted to continue as much as he could to NEWT level, teams and clubs were the first to go.

He looked at the half eaten scone in his hand. "Oh man now I feel stupid. I thought you were just some bum, not a fellow member of the early 90s Hogwarts generation. Here," Sissel fished out his wallet, "for one scone and one coffee, try not spill it this time."

"Hey thanks," Sissel said at the apologetic cleaning spell, having nearly forgotten that this all started with boiling breakfast beverage about his ankles. He instantly understood Trishna's confusions. "Ah, paperwork and legal mumbo jumbo. The bane of all societies. If you needed a hand I could help you look over it, I've seen my share. You wouldn't believe the amount of stuff the Ministry can claim in property unspecified in a Will." The potentially nasty stuff, or new inventions, housed in the DoM for study. Half of the modern magical tech of the day was Ministry issued from post humous patents.

"Ah, yes," Tapendra said, and remembered Sissel...or, at least, what his friends had said about the man. They weren't exactly polite, especially via Luthas. He smiled as politely as he could. "Luthas found your skills very...frustrating, if I recall," he said, thinking of Luthas's tenure as Ravenclaw's Keeper. That was far from the only thing he'd had to say, but it was really the only thing Tapendra would every say out loud.

"Thank you," he said, deciding not to comment that the fact they somewhat knew each other was apparently the only reason Sissel was reimbursing him for stolen food. He flagged the waitress down through the crowd, and reordered his breakfast when she arrived.

Sissel's casual mention of wills, however, just made Tapendra's eyes narrow for a fraction of a second, his friendly smile quickly returning. How the hell does he know about the will? He thought, and snapped his briefcase fully shut and locked it. He probably just reads the Prophet, he told himself. But still - he didn't know what Jowd actually did at the Ministry. He waved a hand.

"No, that's quite alright. It's just some..." he tried to think of an excuse. "Home...legal stuff. Registering enchantments. That sort of thing." The contract he'd had in front of him hadn't had its actual title showing, thankfully; even so, it had just been the contract for the lawyer's services, which - much to Tapendra's distress - had also stated the cost. By the hour. He hoped the man didn't count letter-writing on the bill. "It's all rather dull, really."

"Heh, ol' Luth. He did finally catch onto the signature 'Smack-The-Quaffle-At-The-Unguarded-Hoop-With-The-Broom-While-Falling' ploy." Sissel reminisced for a bit, his quidditch broom having been in a closet for years. "You know, I had a horrible streak at trying to name my Quidditch moves."

He shrugged when Trishna explained the paperwork. The astronomy professor's smile seemed forced. Was he constipated? "Yeah, that stuff usually has me falling asleep. Forms, apparation licenses, winged horse permits," as many buzzwords to trigger the cover story, "out of all the departments Magical Transportation is the most built on paperwork. Who knew?"

"So how've you been, with the job and family and all that? Oh," he paused. "You might get this a lot, but a belated sorry for your loss." Of all the school day romances, none had been more discussed than the Tappy/Judy relationship given the completely contrasting personalities. Sometimes opposites really attracted.

"In fact, you might be able to help me out, since it seems you frequent the Alley a lot. Did the Daily Prophet archives have visiting hours? I have some research to do and I don't want to force my way in with the Ministry creditienals." Sissel was horrible at reading the Prophet fully, a habit he was trying to fix. He mainly glanced at the front page to ensure the date was what he thought it was.

Somehow he didn't think Sissel would be calling Luthas anything good if he'd overheard the other Ravenclaw's comments. Or Ishane's, for that matter.

He looked at Sissel carefully. Somehow, he couldn't see Sissel as the sort to do paperwork, from what he'd seen this morning. But..it took all sorts, yes? He tried to tell himself to calm down about the stupid comment about the Will. It wasn't as if this guy knew anything, right? Right.

"Thank you," he said, a little blankly. He didn't get that a lot, in all seriousness. Most people knew - or didn't bother to say anything about it. "The family is fine," he said, about to politely inquire about Sissel's own.

And then Sissel was asking him another question; one he had no clue about. "Um," he said, ever the eloquent one. "I don't know, sorry. I'm not in Diagon much. Never been in the DP headquarters." He shuffled slightly, embarrassed to admit that, for some reason. "I imagine you could get in, Ministry badge and all," he said.

"How's your family?" He asked, for lack of much else to say. "Transportation salary keeping bread on the table?"

"Oh, shucks," Sissel said. "Long shot, I suppose. You know what they say about assumptions. I just hope the staff don't treat me unkind for being on the Ministry. Or if they mistake my credentials for an MLE badge." Press and the enforcement always had tense relationships, and it was only getting worse after that...terrorism, wasn't it (note to self: get to spending more time out of the DoM).

"It's more than keeping bread and hot sauce on the table," Sissel said regarding the salary, "as the family is me, myself and I at the moment. I've been thinking about getting a pet though, if I could get the time off work. Late mornings are a rare occurrence." Rather rare indeed, if Trishna only knew. Well, maybe not rare to an outside view, but when you relived the same evenings over and over a regular morning was bliss.

Tapendra quirked an eyebrow. "I don't think you'd have to worry about a Transportation badge being mistaken," he said, doubtfully. "Just worry if they owe you lot fees for their Floo network upkeep or something," he added, with a hint of a smirk. Transportation sounded dull as all hell; as far as he could tell they pretty much wandered around fixing transportation enchantments, setting up floo networks and demanding money and fees. Like some bizarre and magical combination of bailiff and plummer.

 "You're single, then," he confirmed. He smiled, quietly. "Imagine that. I suppose you get married to the job."

The waitress brought him a replacement for his stolen scone and coffee, and he promptly scooped up the scone and took a bite. Aside from the fact he was hungry, he'd actually like to get to eat the stuff he'd purchased, this time.

"When in doubt, get fish," he said, after chewing and swallowing. "They're less likely to get lose and destroy your flat."

"Someone has to make sure the trains run on time, to borrow a phrase," Sissel said. Really it was making sure the clocks were running on time, but same difference. "Just as you picture it, sometimes more upkeep work than Magical maintenance. Pity it keeps me off the dating field. Though sometimes you meet people through work. I met a French Healer at St. Mungo's after a nasty illegal broom altercation,[1] requiring my need for the hospital services."

"We had a nice date the following weekend at this Italian place, maybe you've heard of it, Carluccio's? Although it was broken up by some having an instant Apparation/Disappartion into a waiter.[2] Weird, huh? I never was able to figure out what that was about."

Sissel had a laugh when Trishna said fish. "That would be about perfect, feed them at the start and end of the day and it would be fine. Going to the Magical Menagerie, you have to be picky about what to adopt. Many potential fire-breathers."

"Say, now that you mention it..." Sissel, having stretched his arms over his head in a yawn, shrugged his shoulders back down. "You said you had some Home Enchantment forms you were working on. Connecting to the Floo? Expanding the cellar? Owlery?"

1.	Bleeding Hearts out on your Sleeve
2.	First Dates and Other Disasters

Tapendra looked at Sissel over his glasses, and found himself wondering how that date had actually gone. The man was remarkably oblivious to body language and subtle hints, it seemed; he had a feeling that said Healer probably hadn't owl'ed since. Or called, for that matter.

"Sounds like a nice night," he said, nicely, his coffee at his lips a second later to hide the barest hints of a smirk. Maybe it was hanging around Ignan so much; he felt bad for thinking bad things about Sissel...but not as much as he normally would have. He wondered what Ignan would have done in this situation - brushed the man off gruffly, most likely.

Though that might not have worked, admittedly.

He looked at Sissel again, eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Connecting to the Floo would have been a good excuse, but he had a feeling Sissel would then volunteer to help. And he'd have had to fess up he was lying, because his fireplace was in no way large enough to connect to the Floo; and he wouldn't connect, anyway. Between quick access to the Wizard world and a working internet connection, the internet won.

"Having my Disillusionment charms confirmed," he said, simply. "Magical plants in the garden, and all." Technically, the only thing magical about his rose bushes was the fertilizer he fed the things, but still. He shrugged, nonchalantly. "Nothing remarkable."

"Big ones, then?" Sissel presumed, from his off-hand knowledge of home-keeping policies. "They mainly worry about size and ferocity based on where you live. Like, if you have muggle neighbors around each side of the yard, even the Fanged Geraniums need to be enchanted. In fact, maybe a plant would be better for me than a pet if I can't spare too much time." His mind needed a laughter soundtrack whenever he made a joke about work.

"You grow anything specific? But you don't need to answer if I'm taking up too much of your morning." Sissel shifted in his seat, ready to stand. "I suppose as an astronomy professor you can have late mornings--wait, what am I talking about, school's out isn't it?"

"Still, you have your own business, and I..." Sissel pulled up a sleeve of his coat, enough to reveal the first watch on his timekeeping armband "...have 2 hours, 27 minutes and 48 seconds until the trouble starts."

"No, just the usual. Normal but still magical plants and a nice but nosy society lady living next door." Who complained about his roses hanging into her yard...but never the less complained when he trimmed them back because she then lacked a free source of fresh flowers. She wasn't a bad sort, but still.

"Haven't got the thumb to grow anything interesting," he said, which was true. The A on his OWLs was basically charity, or dumb luck. Tapendra had a black thumb; given enough time with it the man could have dehydrated a cactus. In a few hours.

He looked at his watch as Sissel mentioned the time, and stood up suddenly, thankfully having the foresight to hold his coffee...and thus sparing Sissel another nasty splash. "I do need to go," he said, smiling quickly at Sissel. "Nice talking to you again," he said politely, and grabbed his breifcase. It never did to be late to a meeting with a lawyer. He wondered if they charged for every minute you were late...

"Have a nice day, Jowd," he said, buttoning his coat again (and correcting himself just in time so he didn't call Sissel 'Jowls'.) "Hope the networking goes well."

With that, he bowed politely and darted away into the crowd, taking his coffee and scone with him, eyes scanning the alley the moment he stepped out into it.