It had been a long, ordinary day. Robert had started the day with jogging at 5, breakfast at 6, porting into London at 7, walking to the teashop for a cup of Earl Grey and then arriving at the office at 7:30 promptly. He was a creature of habit with his morning routine.
He had spent the first two hours of his work day at the Ministry, apparated to St. Mungos to make rounds and see patients. He had been recruited to deliver a baby from a high risk pregnancy situation. He had skipped lunch, gone back to the Ministry for most of the afternoon while Khaat covered for him at the hospital.
Dinner had been a stale scone in the Healer's Lounge at the hospital and coffee left too long on the boiler plate while he signed paychecks and then made rounds, and covered a shift at the emergency room. It was now midnight, and he was tired and hungry. He sent an owl to Michael Tremaine to see if Michael wanted to slip off to the Leaky for some pub grub and a pint.
The invitation had been too tempting to bypass. Michael had come, bringing the boys to make it a proper boys night out. He'd brought Brian, Angus Donohue--one of Brian's best mates and the chief of staff for the Lupin estate. Angus had brought Edward--his grandfather, the famed werewolf slayer, and Marcus Belby--Khaat's new bodyguard. It was a welcome sight. They'd made the short apparation to the Leaky, and had ordered platters of properly greasy fish and chips, doused in malt vinegar of course, accompanied by a pint or two, and much laughter and, as Kate would have said it, "boy talk," the sort of thing that she preferred they not do in mixed company or around the children.
It had been a long time since they'd had that sort of fun, and it lifted their spirits. No one had had more than two pints, and, near 2 am, they decided to pack it up and head for home. They all donned their autumn jackets because the night air had gotten quite crisp. They decided to walk a block or two just for the fresh air and to allow those who smoked a chance for a cigarette or a pipe. In fact, they all lit up in some way or another. Marcus, Michael, and Edward smoked regularly. Brian, Angus, and Robert were more episodic about it, but the bunch of them walked the night streets, producing an aromatic fog around them, and more laughter.
They had turned to cut down an alley towards a larger crossroad where the apparating would be easier for them all. It was narrow and darker here, and they had to light their wands.
"You chose a rather dark alley, didn't you?" Edward asked, puffing on his pipe.
"If you like, I could start a bigger fire in that pipe if it would help you see better," Robert teased. "Seriously, though, we need to do this more often."
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