one breath too late

Byron Bagman sat alone at a table. It was a rare sight indeed, for a boy who could hardly be seen anywhere without a friend. Alone in his thoughts, Byron had both hands nestling a mug of butterbeer that looked like not even a sip of it was taken. Usually, the boy's face would hold a sort of happy optimism. Now, it merely appeared solemn. He was alone, and there was no one to brave a happy front for. Byron thought about how, just a month ago, he was the boy with a ready smile. It had been genuine, too.

Ludo Bagman had been excited about his son's return from his fourth year at Hogwarts. He had especially emphasized on how Byron was growing to look like a young man now, very much like Ludo himself in his boyish days. Ludo had also joked about an initiation to manhood for his precious son. For all of his life, as far as Byron can remember, Daddy was his idol. The boy had been taunted or told about his father's scandals, but it never altered his impression because he simply thought that they were false. Now, though, the first wave of suspicions had begun.

Ludo Bagman is, essentially, a man with a good heart. However, he tends to sacrifice a lot for some of life's pleasures and vices. Ludo had somehow decided that his beloved son was ready to follow his footsteps, further, in a way. It was not just about Quidditch now. It had to do with his secret lifestyle of visiting whore houses. Years ago, Ludo had to promise his wife's family that he would stay away from gambling, before their marriage. This he kept to. But the man transferred his energies to another vice, and he had not thought it a bad judgement as a parent to illegally sneak his boy in that summer.

Byron had lost it. His innocence, perhaps. No one stopped him, and he was curious. Ludo knew what had happened, but made no effort to comment about it. In fact, he continued to bring his boy along. Byron, confused because he felt that something was wrong but still he had his father's weakness to temptations, had allowed himself to be brought along.

Just for tonight, though, Byron had slipped out of the house before Ludo could see him and bring him for another trip to that place again. But here the boy sat, feeling like he was missing out, and yet, dirty to have even visited that place once. This deep secret of his had stolen his peace. He had to cradle it and share it with no one, for what would anybody think of him if they knew?

Roxi strode down Hogsmeade, leaning down to pull up her aqua colored socks which kept slipping down her legs. She kept reaching up to run a hand through her hair, a little worried about her appearance, having just been pleasantly ravaged by Damien D'eath. She thought it funny that the boy she had ridden the Hogwarts Express all that time ago and disappeared from her life was suddenly back in it, snogging her in the Shrieking Shack.

And you would not catch her complaining either.

She paused by a store front, leaning forward to peer at her reflection in the window, reaching up and fixing her hair before putting her aqua lensless glasses on. She reached down and fixed her shirt and her shorts before nodding. She deemed herself positively adorable, which was the look she typically went for. And no one would guess what she had been doing, besides the fact that she was positively glowing and seemed s bit flustered.

She stepped into the Three Broomsticks and her eyes swept around. She caught sight of Byron and practically leapt into the air in excitement and glee. Her best friend! Byron was one of the few people she would set above the others, but he definitely was her best friend. They were incredibly close and she too ka step towards him.

And that's when she noticed, for the first time since she could remember, Byron did not look happy nor as friendly as he usually did. He looked preoccupied by something, upset about something and Roxi pouted her lips, her eyebrows low over her eyes in concern. She took a long circle around the Three Broomsticks, grabbing a Butterbeer on her way and then approached Byron from behind.

Her arms came around his neck, holding the mug in one hand as she turned and plopped a kiss on his cheek, hoping to take him by surprise and cheer him up. She laughed and squeezed her friend, saying, "Hiya Byron!" She released him and took the seat across from him, drinking from the frothy mug. She tilted her head, her expression taking one of genuine concern. "What's going on with you? You seem sad."

Suddenly, there was a pair of arms around him. Byron jolted a little harder than he would have wanted, possibly bumping a little into the arm that had the mug of butterbeer in hand. Well, he had thought that he would be alone all night after all. Then he felt the kiss on his cheek and got a whiff of the smell of the girl's hair, and he relaxed. If there was someone who could fix that downturn of his lips, it had to be Roxanne Weasley. Sure, they had their fair share of childish fights, having practically known each other all their lives. But there was no other who shared the most happy memories with him, and who knew him through and through, almost.

Recently, Byron had began to feel the earliest stirrings of a new kind of feeling towards the girl. But he was in self-denial about them, as of now. That kiss, though ... his heart had squeezed a little as an effect of it, as friendly as it was. His heart was struggling with his determination for self-denial. Byron managed to smile at his best friend as she began with her question. Noticing how untouched his butterbeer was, he brought the mug up to his lips and took his first gulp of it before replying.

"Well I figured that sadness has never been my strongest point, so I decided to work on it." He could never tell Roxi about what had been going on. He had decided on it. Byron hoped his attempt at humour would distract her from her concerns of him. He had always been more interested in listening than sharing anyway. "And enough about me. What brings you here so coincidentally? On an evening, too ..." The boy's tone changed a little to that of concern, too. He had always been protective of his friend, perhaps even more so now with the new feelings. "... I smelt ciggarettes." As if he was one to ask. Although Byron never carried them around, he had always shared them with Roxi. Basically, he had always done whatever she would do, trying everything that she introduced.

Byron jumped slightly and nudged her elbow causing her to slop some of her Butterbeer on the ground, though she pain no attention to that. She had wanted to surpise him and she had. Roxi liked keeping people on her toes- hence the crazy outfits, the random behaviour, intense amounts of partying, and randomly hugging her friends from behind. She thought that it kept them pleasantly thrilled with life. She liked to make her life as interesting as possible- see above tactics- and she knew she would be a bad friend to not spread and encourage that way of living amonst her friends.

She could not help but giggle at his words, though she forced on a serious expression, though her mouth twitch and twisted, obvious that she was holding back a smile. Roxi was a happy person by nature, laughing came easy for her, but Byron never failed to keep a smile on her face, even when she was trying to be serious at the moment- one of the few times that she actually wanted to be serious. She should have known that she could not serious around him.

She allowed for him to derail her train of thought, since it was easily derailed anyway. Plus, she liked to talk about herself, she would not lie about it. He asked what had brought her there and normally, she would not mind telling him she had just scored, but Damian had made it clear- no one was to know. She shrugged, putting on a mysterious expression. "Oh, just.. erm, kicking it. Yes." She grinned. He mentioned cigarettes as she took another sip of Butterbeer, and she waved a hand, lowering the mug. "Oh, posh. I didn't smoke that much. I did have some Firewhiskey, but I've almost completely sobered up. I've always been quick to get drunk and quick to sober."

Byron raised both of his eyebrows, suspicious that he did not get a proper answer from Roxi about her reasons for being in Hogsmeade at this time. It was not as if the girl owed him an answer. He was just used to the fact that she had always been open to him, open as a book. Or so he thought.

Byron pressed his lips together as he pondered on that. He knew the little reputation that the girl had made herself with the rumor mill, and as much as he himself had always been very open-minded, he did not like it one bit. It made a difference when someone actually mattered. The thought of the rumors began to sting him more now that he had some experiences of his own, thanks to his father. Knowing how the whole shenanigans work, Byron did not like it one bit, that Roxi could possibly be having that sort of fun. Still, best friend was not boy friend. And Byron kept mum.

"Firewhiskey? Where at?" He was really beginning to wonder who Roxi had been with before she got here, since she seemed to want not to talk about it. He felt slightly jealous at not being privy to the information. At that, Byron took further gulps of his butterbeer, finally realizing how thirsty he had become. When he placed the mug back on the table, he absent-mindedly reached for his dog tag and began to fidddle with it, with his fingers. While he waited for an answer, Byron threw another smile at his friend. Her arrival had distracted him from his troubles, and he was glad for it. He had never been a fan of brooding.

Byron was not buying her mystery and silence, she could tell by the way he narrowed his eyes on her, trying to discern what it was that she was hiding from him. she hummed absent mindedly, her finger trailing on the rim of her mug of Butterbeer, rolling her lips, smacking them before bringing the Butterbeer to her lips. So refreshing after the harsh Firewhiskey.

Even if Damien had been less.. ashamed or whatever he was about their meet up, Roxi was not sure that she would tell Byron about it. Damien and his little group of Slytherin friends typically did not get along with Roxi's group of friends, especially the boys- the girls could look past the Slytherins fault and right into how hot they all seemed to be. But they could fall right back into the feud at any time- women were like that. Byron would not be pleased to hear she had slept with Damien, so maybe it was best kept as a secret.

"Shrieking Shack," she responded, throwing back some more Butterbeer. "I did not want to get caught. y'know. There's been some close calls here in Hogsmeade. Apparently underage drinking and being under the influence in public is frowned upon nowadays." She giggled. "Why were you here, anyway, huh? Always so intent to hear about me, we never hear anything about you." She tilted her head as she regarded him through her eyelashes.

Byron continued to observe his friend. When she rolled her lips, he felt something inside him roll along, and he frowned. It needed to stop doing that, his insides. Still, Byron had always been known to let his emotions get the better of him. It was only a matter of time. He has no choice. Not knowing what to do, he began to drum lightly at the edge of the table. He had always been musically inclined, and there was always a rhythm waiting in his head. Byron nodded at what Roxi said.

"Because," he grinned, "all we ever need to hear about is you." He had meant that,and it was obvious. Byron had never really been a master of sarcasm. Lying, he also could not do easily. And so he found it incredibly hard to keep his secret from the girl who had known his life inside out since they were young children. "Well ... Mother made some awesome pies today. She asked how you were doing. I told her fine, right? Fine?" He looked to Roxi, as if he needed some confirmation from the girl although he had made the assumption earlier to his mother anyway. Besides, it was not as if his mother had the right to know or anything.

"Mummy said that you should come over to ours before school begins. I reckon you should. We can jam in my room." Byron's eyes lit up. He was obviously very passionate about music. "And then we can fly around after my parents go to bed!" And that too, flying. The boy still felt sore that his father had said no to his request for a new broom. Byron's excitement grew as he talked about possible plans. It was not as if they were new plans. It was all he and Roxi would ever do when she does come over for some best-mates quality time. And his parents loved her, since they also happen to know the girl's parents.

"We can go out in the evening first then return shortly I need to avoid my da-" Uh-oh, he thought. He had blurted that last fact out in his excitement. Byron squeezed his eyes shut and opened it again quickly, as if an invisible hand had slapped him for that.

Byron began to drum against the table- a quirk of her friend that sometime irritated other people, but entertained Roxi to no end- and she smiled. Within a few moments, her foot was tapping the beat out under the table and she hummed along, smiling. She and Byron had always been musically inclined though Roxi was yet to take it as seriously as Byron. She was much to content simply belting things out and dancing around like a total fool.

She gave him a comical scoffing face- hrt ryrs upward, her bottom jaw jutted out, her tongue poking out as she looked up at him, clinking her tongue. "Pssh, noooooo!" She grinned and sat up. "We like hearing about you too!" Roxi admittedly did like being the center of attention, but she did not mind when her friends were in the limelight of attention either, especially when it was her attention.

He proceeded to speak about himself and mentioned his mother's pies. Roxi's eyes glazed over and she melted, slipping down in her chair. "Piiiiiiiiiiiiies," she drawled lazily, her mouth opening as though she could taste the baked goods. She sat up, eyes bright. "I love your mother's pies, you know! I would marry her pies! Yes, I'll do it, I'll marry your mother's pie." She nodded, sipping her drink.

He questioned if she was fine and again, she gave a scoffing face, but this one was a little more serious. "Ye-es" she insisted. She could not stop the look that came onto her face, lips pushed put, one eyebrow up and she wriggled, "Aren't I always fine?" she purred before bursting into laughter, using the other definition for the word.

He began planning and she nodded, excited, placing her palms against the table. "Uh huh, uh huh!" she eagerly agreed to the ideas. "Music and flying! Gooly gee gooly, Byron, you surely know the way to woo a girl!" She slumped in her seat and calpped one hand to her heart and raised her wrist to her forehead and simpered, "My poor ol' heart can barely stand it!"

She sat up, giggling, before registering what he had said. Da? Daaa? Did he mean dad? She grinned. "Did you forget how to talk again? It's Dad with a d! Why are you avoiding your dad?"

Byron had a tune in his head, and then he realized that the rhythm of his finger-drumming seemed to go well with that. He smiled a little to himself for having found that out, perhaps he could write a little more of that song in his head when he gets back home. He was not worried that he would forget it. He never really did forget tunes, but he almost always forgets a lot of things that he had never been talented at. It made for an extremely hard time at school. The boy had tried not to think of Fifth Year as being OWLs year, all of the school holidays. He would be surprised if his boggart did not turn into the OWLs. When Byron came out of that worrying thought, he noticed that his friend was tapping along with him. He smiled. It was one of the many beautiful things he loved about their friendship. Byron loved the girl fiercely. As a friend of course, he might add, although with a frown of confusion.

Byron watched Roxi go off in her head over his mother's pies, and grinned to himself. He loved his family, and he was glad Roxi did too. "She's be dabbling quite a bit in dessert pies now, though. I'm getting quite sick of them myself, to be honest. I wish she would try something other than pie. It's a bit old if you've to eat one everytime she experiments with a new recipe. She tried to teach me last week, and I think I scalded the side of my hand in the process. And then she shoo-ed me out of her kitchen. So fickle, she. To think she had insisted I join her in the kitchen! But nah, I guess the only work I can do in the kitchen is to eat. Cleans up the plates and the trays, so I reckon it's still good though, no?" Byron grinned in a cheeky fashion and he continued to play with his dog tag.

"Good to know you're still excited about the Byron routine," he commented as he amused himself with Roxi's antics. A small part of him began to poke his brain, attempting to slip in some kind of question to it. It seemed it was hoping that the girl had meant what she said about wooing, and Byron was annoyed at it, which manifested in a knock on the table too hard (from the drumming) that he had to retract his finger. "Ouch!" Byron lifted the finger to where he can see it properly, and saw that it had swelled and reddened a little from their incredily hard hit. Not bothering with etiquette because there was no need for him, Byron brought his finger up to his mouth and began to suck a little at it, as if the act would lessen the pain. Then, as if he did not want attention to what happened, Byron shot a look at the girl before throwing his hand down, for it to land on his left knee.

The boy reached for his mug of butterbeer and drank a few more gulps of it, just after the girl realized he had mentioned his father in a slip. Byron never could lie. And for Roxi to not notice his lack of skill even at this time is impossible. But the boy was not very aware of this lack of his. He lowered his eyes quickly and began to concentrate on his sneakers. "What? I said no such thing," he chuckled nervously.

Roxi stared at Byron, wide eyed, as he explained that they had been having a lot of pies in the Bagman household, most of which were dessert pies. Byron had lcearly gone mad, because complaing about pies was insane. It should a criminal offense, really, so her friend was a stark raving criminal lunatic now. Had to be one of her more interesting variety of friend- perhaps that's why Bryon was her favorite.

She nodded thoughtfully, twisting her lips as she pondered her own thoughs before saying, "So, it's decided then? I am moving into your house." She giggled madly and bounced in her seat a little, saying, "Are you nuts, Byron? I might have to knock some sense into you for being unappreciative if pies! PIES, BYRON! Here's your new kitchen role- to nick every pie your mother makes and send it to me- or I will move in and sleep under your bed."

She giggled happily and he commented about her enjoyment regarding his life and she grinned, resting her chin on the table and craning her head to look up at him. "Always," she said, sticking her tongue oit and batting her eyelashes at him. She grinned and sat up, sipping her Butter beer contentedly, thinking about how much sweeter it was than Firewhiskey.

Byron suddenly hit the table extra hard and she flinched, pointing at him and saying, "See! The universe knew I liked you too much to beat some sense into you, so it set this table in your path to punish you for your blasphemy against pies!" She giggled and then realized it probably hurt. "I'm sorry, By. You okay?"

He continued on, but Roci knew- as did everyone else in the enitre room- that Byron was a dreadful liar. She sighed and tilted her head. "Spill, Byron. I'm not buying it."