Hot Toddies

It was bitterly cold in Hogsmeade. The snow was piling up and the wind was blowing it into deep drifts. Michael was feeling rather immune to it or the most part. he was glad to be out of that stuffy castle for the holiday break. He had opened the house back up and had brought home his enchanted furniture. The dogs were so excited that they had eaten not just Michaels socks but his slippers and several pair of underwear. A bit put out by finding some of his shorts gone, he had stoped from the house, through the alley to the main street, not only to make his way through the snow drifts in the alley, but also because he was frustrated. He was heading for the clothing shop but as he passed by the Three Broomsticks, he changed his mind and made an unexpected stop.

"Michael!" the cheery bartender called. "Long time no see, Mate!"

"Hello, Tom," Michael said, smiling as the men shook hands. "What's the news?"

"We have a new recipe for the holidays--a new hot toddy. You should try it. I'll give you one on the house if you give me your honest opinion."

"Sold," Michael said.

"Have a seat at the table by the fire and I'll send it out," Tom said. Michael made his way to the table took off his coat and laid it over the back of the chair and then sat down, ribbing his hands together to warm them.

Matthew walked through the snowfilled streets of Hogsmeade. His jacket collar pulled up to his chin to protect him from the blistering wind. He was definitely NOT ready for winter yet. Those bastard Canadians who were so used to the weather. Able to walk around in short sleeved shirts and shorts in thirty below. He huffed and opened the door that lead into the Three Broomsticks. As soon as he stepped inside he felt the rush of hot air start to warm him. "I love magic." he muttered to himself as he unzipped his jacket a little bit.

"Hello, I need something warm." he told the bartender. "Righto, hot toddy coming up!" he said and turned his back to him.

Matthew sighed and leaned against the counter looking around. The place was pretty packed as was to be expected in this weather. If people weren't in here they were at the Leaky Cauldron. What else was there to do in this freezing weather than to get drunk off of hot chocolate. He chuckled to himself as the bartender handed him his drink. He spotted someone at a table alone drinking a drink similar to his. He recognized him from an Order meeting. He figured he'd take a seat and strike up a conversation. Walking over he eyed a rather attractive witch sipping a coffee and reading the Daily Prophet; running into a table.

His face turned red, she had seen. "Who put this table here?" he asked out loud as a joke. He laughed nervously and continued on his trek to the table that the man was at.

"Hi, I'm Matthew. You're in the Order right?" he asked him. "Mind if I take a seat, I really don't know anyone around here."

"Please," Michael motioned. "Be my guest." He saw a new young assistant behind the bar trying to follow Tom's instructions about serving Michael his drink. The assistant attempted to float the hot drink to Michael but the mug seemed to go askew. Michael drew his wand in a flash and flicked it at the mug, getting it under control before it could have the opportunity to flip upside down on the head of the witch that had momentarily bewitched his new tablemate. She became quite testy at nearly having the steaming hot drink tumbled on her head. She jumped to her feet and strode over to the bar and slammed her fist on it, starting to get mouthy with the new young employee.

"Excuse me one moment," Michael said. He went over to the young screeching witch and very softly whispered into her ear. She stopped shrieking and looked at him for a moment. Then she flashed him a bright smile. She apologized to the clerk and Michael returned to his table.

"My apologies," MIchael said to the young man. "I think that's over now. I know I've seen you before. London perhaps?" He knew clearly exactly where he'd seen the young man. They hadn't had a chance to introduce themselves that night. But he didn't trust who, around them, might well be still blinded by Grindlewald's propaganda and who was finally waking up.

Matthew watched all that had happened in the short time with amazement. He could already tell this man was an exciting man. And most likely a regular hear because he was trusted with the new kid. He chuckled to himself as Michael came back to his seat and smiled at him.

"I remember you from the last Order of the Phoenix Meeting I was at actually" he told him. "I'm Matthew Wheeler, I've been around London I suppose." he told him. "You're..." he raced his brain for a name from the last meeting. "Michael, correct?" he asked.

He took a sip of his drink and blinked, it was certainly tangy. It was good and there was a kick of...something but he wasn't quite sure. He looked around the noisy place, he could hear old women gossiping. Young men discussing the results of the Quidditch season. There were plenty of students around as well. All chatting away,a couple of teen lovers here and there.

"Busy place eh?" he said quietly, more so to himself. "You come here often?"

"You've got a good memory," Michael smiled. "Michael Tremaine. Good to see you again. And, yes, I do come here. More often than I probably should. I live within walking distance. The first time I came here it was, I believe, for a butterbeer on a school outing. And, well, now I mainly come here for the fish and chips. Good pub grub is hard to find. Today, actually, I am trying to avoid going home to hex my dogs for eating my socks and my shorts. If you can call them dogs. Bloody enchanted furniture.

"Here's your laugh of the day," he said, taking a swig of the toddy and finding it quite satisfying. He gave Tom a thumbs up, and that made Tom laugh, delighted. "So, I'm renting this furnished house, and it comes complete with this pair of bloody bewitched footstools that believe they are cocker spaniels. And my very best friend thinks its funny enough that he doesn't have to tell me how to prevent them from reproducing. Now I have a ridiculous litter of 12 dollhouse sized foostools that think they're cocker spaniels and a hat rack that robs me blind every time I walk in the door. I'd set them on fire, but I have this demented, twisted bit of my brain that likes them just well enough not to off them."