Hiram hesitated outside the door of The Dark Horseman, a gay and lesbian bar in a segment of London that had no other gay and lesbian bars. This bar was famous for one thing: a place to meet someone for a one-night stand. One was highly discouraged to try and met anyone for a serious relationship at The Dark Horseman, and perhaps because of the bar's reputation, very strange people could often be found at The Dark Horseman, looking for someone to have a quick roll in the hay with.
Well, "quick" might not be the way to describe what these pseudo-relationships were. Word on the street was the most of the people who went to The Dark Horseman wanted someone to talk to, to spend the evening with, culminating in a day-to-week-long affair. Many of the people who were aggressively on the prowl for sex at the Dark Horseman didn't seem aware of many modern cultural and technological advances; one of the cultural advances that these people at The Dark Horseman seemed to have missed out on was that it was now culturally acceptable to act meanly towards people in bars and still expect them to sleep with you later. They were reported to be chivalrous in an old-fashioned way, buying drinks, having deep conversations, helping people home, kissing them good-bye in the morning…
It was also reported that many of these people didn't know how to use a telephone properly – if they knew what a telephone was, that is. They often were shockingly out of date on current events, sports, or entertainment. Some of them, it was rumored, did not even know what a television was. Hiram had heard rumors that some of these people would get drunk and then begin describing people as "Muggles," which apparently was some sort of swear word, because at that point the bartender would immediately kick the offender out. They also all seemed to be deeply closeted: they often referred to themselves not as gay, lesbian or queer, but instead used the strange phrase "Addled." They knew little about gay culture, and they often seemed confused at how to pick up people successfully at a bar. The other slightly unnerving thing was that often these people seemed to know each other – they all seemed to have gone to the same school.
The general consensus among regulars at the The Dark Horseman was that these people were from an extremely sheltered and anti-gay religious community. Something perhaps like the Amish: a kind of closed-off community where one could become an adult and never have seen a television nor heard the word "gay" mean anything but joyous. Almost all of them seemed to be deeply closeted, as well – they would go to The Dark Horseman, sleep with people, and then return to whatever community they came to, many of them it was assumed returning to a spouse and children.
Hiram had never been to The Dark Horseman before, but his friend Jennifer had begged him to go. Jennifer liked sleeping with interesting women, and if the rumors were true, these women would certainly be described as interesting. Plus, Jennifer had added, it might be a good idea for Hiram to meet a nice gay boy who came from "a similar background." By this, Jennifer was referring to the fact that Hiram had grown up in a modern Orthodox Jewish community that he had left after coming out of the closet. Hiram didn't consider his childhood to have been particularly isolated, but Jennifer (after learning that Hiram had gone exclusively to Jewish schools his whole life, and was not exposed to television in his home) disagreed.
And he was lonely, Hiram thought while opening the door and walking into the dimly lit pub. And not just for companionship either – he hadn't had sex for nearly three months after his ex-boyfriend, Noah, had dumped him.
"Hiram!" Hiram looked to find Jennifer at the bar, waving him over. The Dark Horseman could have been just a normal pub, Hiram reflected, there was no indication that this was a gay bar infamous for its ability to find people a one-night-stand. Except, Hiram noticed with a smile, that two men were making out heavily in a corner.
"Hello, Jen," Hiram said while plopping down to the seat next to her. He felt the man next to him size him up, and Hiram felt himself blush slightly as he felt the man's eyes look him over.
"How was work today? Are people still flying on British Airways?" Jen asked conversationally, while waving down the bartender and ordering Hiram a lager.
Hiram worked in the marketing department of British Airways.
"It certainly seems so," Hiram said, taking a sip of his lager. "All thanks to me, of course. They should really give me a raise."
"Do you work with airplanes?" The man next to Hiram asked him suddenly. The man had bright red hair, burns all over his muscular arms, and deep brown eyes. At the moment, his eyes were looking intently into Hiram's, causing his belly to do a small flip-flop. God, it's been a long time since I've done this, Hiram thought to himself. "Do you work with planes?" is not a very good pick-up line and I'm still getting butterflies.
"Erm… no, I work in the marketing department for British Airways," Hiram said.
"Oh." The man looked slightly confused for a moment. Hiram, remembering that some of these people were supposedly right out of an ascetic community, continued on.
"So I help design the advertisements for British Air… I mostly work in print ads, so I communicate with the graphic designers who make the artwork and the layout people, and everything like that," he said, painfully aware of how stupid he probably sounded.
The man next to him nodded. Hiram felt uncomfortable. Jennifer clasped Hiram on the shoulder and said, loudly for the man next to her to hear, "I'm going to talk to that gorgeous black-haired woman over there. You two continue this fascinating conversation." As Hiram felt his face go slightly pink, Jennifer hopped down from her barstool to approach a woman with shoulder-length straight black hair wearing a green dress, drinking what appeared to be a glass of Scotch.
The man next to Hiram smiled broadly at him.
"That's a good friend a mine, the one your friend is walking over towards," he said to Hiram, lowering his voice so neither Jennifer nor the black-haired woman could hear. "Went to school in the same year as her. Name's Larunda McGonagall. We were prefects together. She's really clever. Brave, too. Is a niece of a professor of ours, terrifyingly strict woman, but Larunda always knew how to press her buttons during class. She probably spent about a third of her time at school in detention with good old Professor McGonagall."
The man winked at Hiram before continuing, "And, as far as I understand, the ladies think that she's a very… ah… generous lover. Your friend has good taste." The man smiled roguishly at Hiram while finishing his drink. Signaling to the bartender, he ordered two whiskeys, neat, shoving one towards Hiram.
"Her name's Jennifer," Hiram said, "she used to work with me at British Airways but she got fired for accidentally forwarding an obscene email to her boss. Now she writes obscene books."
The man across from Hiram smiled at him.
"So you're saying she's the better for being fired?" he asked.
"I'm saying she got her start writing obscene things at British Airways," Hiram said, taking a sip of the scotch.
"I'm Charlie Weasley," the man said, extending his hand. Hiram shook it, noticing both how large his hand was and how many callouses covered it. He suddenly felt very dainty and feminine in comparison.
"Hiram Maier," Hiram said. "What do you do?"
"Wildlife research and protection," Charlie said easily. "Mostly with hawks and other large birds of prey. But let's not talk about that, I deal with birds of prey all day long. Let's talk about airplanes."
"Airplanes?" Hiram asked, surprised. "Well, I don't know that much about them…"
"Well, have you ever ridden on one?"
"…Yes, I have. Several times," Hiram answered, feeling confused.
"What's it like?" Charlie asked.
Hiram stared at him. Charlie burst out laughing.
"You look good when you look confused," Charlie said. Hiram felt himself blush slightly harder. "Just tell me what's the entire plane trip is like," Charlie continued, turning to Hiram and looking at him squarely and giving Hiram his undivided attention."Step by step. From arriving at the airplane station to starting to fly, then stopping flying, or whatever. What you do, what it feels like. Everything." Charlie finished his Scotch in one large swig, and signaled for the bartender to bring over two more.
"We have all night, Hiram, take your time."
Hiram felt very tipsy by the time Jennifer and Larunda came over to them.
"Why, hello, Larunda," Charlie said, hailing her. "I am learning all about what it feels like to be on an airplane." Larunda laughed at Charlie, hopping up onto the stool next to Charlie, and indicating that the four of them ought to move to a booth near the back of the bar. Grabbing their drinks, the foursome walked somewhat unsteadily to the booth.
"Jennifer here is an author," Larunda said, sitting next to Jennifer. "She writes dirty, depraved books."
"Hiram told me that," Charlie said, winking at Hiram. "He said she got fired from her job for sending a dirty little email to her boss. You're a filthy girl, huh?"
Jennifer giggled and nodded. "Yep," she said seriously, nudging close to Larunda.
"Tell me what you like most about researching the birds of prey," Hiram ordered Charlie. "With," Hiram cried, "as much detail as I just described being on an airplane!"
Charlie looked at him for a moment. Jennifer began whispering something into Larunda's ear, Larunda leaned very close to Jennifer and, giggling, put her aim around Jennifer.
"I like how they look when they fly," Charlie said seriously, after pausing for a moment. "They look… amazing. So unbelievably powerful. You can tell the kind of power they have just sitting on the ground.. er… or on a tree branch… but you don't really see them turn into the amazing creatures that they are until they begin flying. And then," Charlie sighed happily, "they really seem to own the air. The just… flap their wings and sail so unbelievably gracefully. Looking at them like that, you can just feel all of your problems slipping away and leaving just…."
"A queer sort of peace? Peaceful, but also awe-struck?"
"Yes," Charlie said, sounding surprised. "Like that. Almost exactly."
"When I was little," Hiram said, "I loved to go out at night and watch the bats fly around. There were just a huge flock – or herd – I don't know what you call a lot of bats – in the chimney of the fireplace next to the one I grew up in. When I would look at those bats, I would feel the same way. Partially because bats fly a little oddly – they're graceful, but kind of awkward at the same time," – Charlie nodded vigorously that he understood exactly what Hiram was talking about – "but also just because of the sheer size of the herd-pack-thing. It always felt queerly peaceful but unsettling at the same time."
"Peaceful yet unsettling," Charlie murmured, while looking intently at Hiram, "that is a really good way to put it."
There was a pause where Charlie continued to strangely look at Hiram while drumming his hands on the rim of his glass, so Hiram asked the most stereotypical question one can ask another human being when trying to get into their pants.
"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"
Charlie barked out a short laugh.
"Oh yes," Charlie said. "I definitely do. I have five brothers and one sister." There was a pause where Charlie seemed to wince – a flash of pain went through his face – and then he said, "Four brothers. One passed away about two years ago."
"I'm… I'm sorry," Hiram murmured.
"It's all right," Charlie said seriously. "He died for a good cause. He was a twin… his twin brother isn't taking it so well... But yes," Charlie said, obviously trying to leave the topic of his dead brother. "I have a lot of siblings, and I was the second one growing up. So a lot of responsibilities, and it always felt like another baby was showing up throughout my childhood, that sort of thing."
"I have five younger sisters," Hiram offered. "Traditional family. Lots of kids."
"Yeah?" Charlie asked.
"Five girls," Hiram said, grinning. "I'm the only boy. Getting into the shower in the morning growing up was hellish, let me tell you."
After a pause, Hiram continued, "I don't really see my family anymore."
"And why is that?"
"They don't like that I'm gay," Hiram said, taking a big sip of his drink. Hiram could feel Charlie was looking at him intently. Hiram, swallowing the whiskey, realized that he was starting to feel very drunk. Immediately after realizing that he was very drunk, Hiram decided that he wanted to become even drunker.
"I bet some of my sisters would be all right with seeing me, but I haven't had much contact with them for the past year." Hiram finished his drink, and reached over for Jennifer's half-full glass picking it up. Jennifer was, for the moment, very busy passionately kissing Larunda.
"I came out to my family two years ago, at a family Yom Kippur break-the-fast," Hiram continued, taking a much-too-large swig of Jennifer's whiskey. "Never come out to your family after drinking an entire glass of Manischewitz after not eating or drinking all day. No one wants to hear about your dick and where you like to put it at that moment."
"What's Yom Kippur?" Charlie asked. Hiram choked on his drink.
"You've never heard of Yom Kippur?" Hiram said in disbelief, coughing. "Not even heard of it?" Charlie shook his head.
"It's a Jewish holiday. You fast for your sins." Hiram said, wondering if Charlie would begin to shrink away from him at the word "Jewish" – he had just remembered that supposedly the people who frequent The Dark Horseman came from an intensely Christian background.
Charlie's eyes, however, were instead beginning to show some slight traces of recognition.
"Oh… right," he said, nodding slightly. "Actually some kids at my school would go home for that holiday, I think. It's like in the fall, right?"
"Yeah," Hiram said. "And you don't eat or drink all day, all you do is pray, and then at sunset you eat and drink wine with your family and try not to irritate each other too too much."
"And you… 'came out of the closet', I think is the term, last Yom Kippur?" Charlie asked. Hiram nodded emphatically.
"Yep. Abba – sorry, my father – just got very silent, but Ima – my mum – burst immediately into tears. So I just walked out, and I haven't really talked to them since. They haven't called. My mom sometimes sends emails telling me to come to Shabbat lunches though – because she's met a very nice Jewish girl that she thinks I would like."
"I…haven't told my parents yet," Charlie confessed. "I'm afraid my mother will become very upset. She thinks that boys are Addled – erm I mean, I mean– gay because the mother messed up when they were children. I don't want to put her through that guilt." Hiram nodded at Charlie, who silently surveyed the entwined and slobbering figures of Larunda and Jennifer across from them.
"My mum thinks I'm dating Larunda," Charlie said flatly, looking Hiram straight in the eye.
"Lots of potential there, for the two of you," Hiram said, grinning and beginning to giggle slightly. He couldn't remember the last time he had told anyone about Yom Kippur two years ago and was feeling slightly lightheaded at having told a complete stranger about it.
Just then the bartender came over and slapped his hand heavily on the table, causing Larunda and Jennifer to break apart.
"Ouch, Tim," Larunda said, who had been so startled that she had banged her head against the wall behind her. "Was that really necessary?"
"Yep," the bartender said, smiling slyly at Larunda. "Looked like you two needed some encouragement to leave. We're closed." He nodded at Charlie. "You or Larunda want to pay? 25% discount if you pay."
"What? That's shum – some loyalty discount," Hiram asked, sounding drunk and confused.
"Don't worry about it," Charlie said quickly. "Don't leave. I'll go pay." He stood up and wandered over to the bar were Tim was now standing.
"That Muggle boy is drunk, Charlie," Tim said flatly.
"Sober enough to realize that 25% is a pretty large discount. It used to be 10%. What's the deal?" Charlie asked, frowning.
"The exchange rate on Muggle money is so piss-poor these days, the Galleons are worth that much more to me than the pound notes." Tim said, glancing over at Hiram. "Want me to put it on your tab?"
"Sure, that'd be great, Tim. You working at the Three Broomsticks this weekend? I can pay you then."
"Charlie, you're not going to have sex with that Muggle man tonight," Tim said flatly. "He's too drunk. These Muggles don't have a Sobering Potion or Anti-Intoxication Charm, Charlie, you know that. It's not right to sleep with them when they're like this."
"I know," Charlie said indignantly. "I'm not going to sleep with him. I'm going to walk him home, but no sex. Promise." Tim frowned at him.
"You make sure Larunda doesn't try anything with that girl when she's like this, either. I think it's important for people like you and Larunda to have a place to find Muggles to have fun with," Tim said gruffly, turning slightly red in the face, "but I won't have it if people start messing meanly with the Muggles."
"What happened?" Charlie asked sharply. "Blaise Zabini hasn't been back, has he?" Tim shook his head.
"No, we scared him off really good for that, but I'm still on the lookout for people like that. Told Zabini I had pictures of him with that Muggle he cut up that I would send to his wife and the Ministry if he ever stepped foot in here again."
"You have a photo?" Charlie asked, surprised. "Should we send it to the Ministry anyway?"
Tim shook his head slowly. "I don't think so, Charlie. Zabini didn't use any magic – just a knife – and the Muggle please-men came after Zabini left and took that Muggle's statement and he went to the hospital. The please-men have Zabini in their records, not sure if we need to tell the Ministry.
"Speaking of the Ministry, have you seen this in The Daily Prophet?" Tim, glancing up to make sure that neither Hiram nor Jennifer were looking. Tim gesticulated to a small article in the back of the paper.
Review of Muggle Exemption to International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy
The Muggle Exemption to the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy is under review. Currently, only Muggle spouses, Muggle parents, and Muggle legal guardains of Witches and Wizards may be told of the existence of the Wizarding World. Muggle siblings of Witches and Wizards may only be informed in the existence of the Wizarding world if they are between the ages of 6-17 at the time the Witch of Wizard receives his or her acceptance letter to an accredited Wizarding high school.
The current legislation includes no provisions for Muggle "stepping-parents" (the Muggle term for one's parent's spouse), Muggle "stepping-siblings" (the Muggle term for children of one's parent's spouse), or Muggle "stepping-children" (the Muggle term for one's spouses children by another man or woman). It should be noted that Muggles require words for these unique "family" connections as the rate of divorce, single parentage, and re-marriage are very high in the Muggle world. The International Committee for Muggle and Wizarding Relations will meet and discuss the addition of a specific clause including stepping-family members.
Additionally, the question of whether or not Addled individuals in so-called "long-term committed relationships" with Muggles ought to be able to tell these Muggles about the Wizarding world. Current Wizarding legislation does not allow individuals of the same sex to marry, although many Muggle communities have instituted "commitment ceremonies." Most Muggle communities do not provide legal marriage ceremonies for Addled relationships.
Many are hailing these current discussions as the continued degradation of the Wizarding family unit. Lucius Malfoy, whose son Draco is soon to be married to Witch Weekly supermodel Astoria Greenglass, stated the following:
"Wizarding society is built upon the Wizarding family. The Wizarding community will only be as strong as the magic passed down through strong family units. While obviously Witches and Wizards must be permitted to marry Muggles, these two proposed changes suggest something much more insidious and dangerous: the breakdown of the traditional Wizarding family. There should be no stepping-family in the Wizarding community as Wizards should not divorce. Allowing Muggle stepping-children to be told about the Wizarding world appears to be condone divorce, a Muggle invention that has unfortunately seeped into the Wizarding world."
When asked his opinion on the proposed legislation concerning Addled Muggle/Wizard relationships, Malfoy had this to say:
"I don't even want to address that proposition. Addled behavior is a disgusting and dangerous aberration, as it leads our young Wizards and Witches to believe that procreation is not a Wizarding duty. If we do not procreate, we will not continue to exist. Certainly I do not think a depraved Muggle man or woman who sleeps with members of the same sex should be allowed to know about our existence."
While the majority of the Wizarding world is sympathetic with Malfoy's views, the proposed legislation is currently being drafted with the assistance of many well-known Wizards and Witches, notably including Hermione Granger - the Muggleborn witch who helped Harry Potter defeat Lord Voldemort three years ago."
Charlie looked up at Rob.
"Why did you show me this? Did you just want to make sure I remember just how terrible Lucius Malfoy is before I walk that amazingly attractive Muggle home?"
"The last line," Tim said intently, tapping the paper. "Hermione Granger. You know her!"
"Not very well," Charlie said, frowning.
"Charlie! She's probably going to become your sister-in-law, if the rumors in Dumbledore's Army: Where Are They Now? are true!" Tim exclaimed. "She'd be an important person to impress upon how important this issue is for Addled Witches and Wizards. You know that most Addled Wizards and Witches date Muggles, because they feel safer being Addled in the Muggle world than at home!"
Charlie looked over at the booth, where Hiram was smiling at him goofily.
"And most meet their partners in this very bar. You see the best and worst of it," Charlie muttered, half to himself. Rob, however, heard him.
"You got that right. That tiny little Muggle girl that Padma Patil has been dating for three years threw a drink against the wall the other night. They had this huge row that started when Padma refused to show her pictures of Parvati's wedding."
"I heard about that," Charlie said, sighing and looking at his feet. "Well, I'd better go. Don't worry, I'll make sure the drunk Muggles go straight to sleep with some tea and no funny business."
"You're a good one, Charlie," Tim said, sighing and putting the Daily Prophet away.
Charlie walked towards the table in front of him, where Hiram was still smiling drunkenly at him.
"You look sad. Don't be sad," Hiram said, who needed some help up from his seat. "I do think I need to go home and go to bed, though. I don't think we should…"
"I know. Here, why don't I make sure you get home all right? I really liked talking to you." Charlie said, starting to lead him out the door.
"Sounds good," Hiram said. "But Jennifer needs to come, too. She's staying at mine tonight. Her roommate… won't like it if she comes home… sho…so…late…"
"Okay," Charlie said, sighing and turning to Larunda and Jennifer, who were both unsteadily getting to their feet. "Come on. We're going to Hiram's house to crash."
"Wooo!" Jennifer said, looping her arm through Larunda's and pulling her up. "I'll make margaritas!"
"Okay, let's go," Charlie said, leading Hiram out the door. He turned around and looked at Larunda.
"Larunda – no sex. She's too drunk, you're too drunk." Charlie hissed at her, knowing that Jennifer (who was still loudly talking about all the various cocktails she could make at Hiram's) would not hear.
"I know! Sheesh, I'm not creepy like Zabini," Larunda said, looking slightly affronted.
As the four of them walked laughing towards Hiram's apartment, Charlie helping Hiram weave his way around cracks and bumps in the pavement, Charlie was happy. So happy that he momentarily forgot about the Daily Prophet article and the danger he was supposedly causing to the "traditional Wizarding family unit."