Observations of a Stranger
The pub was surprisingly full for this time of the day, but then the war had left many lives damaged and the pubs were almost always crowded. The man that had just entered was tall and seemed like he didn't belong; he was cloaked in a standoffish air of arrogance. He looked at the crowd with a sigh before tugging a strand of blond hair behind his ear. A moment later he was muttering a quiet spell that subsequently drew him into a certain direction - toward the back of the pub.
Walking by the waitress, he ordered two beers and pointed toward the corner in the back he was heading for. She nodded and wrote the order down, and he moved on, sliding through the crowd with the ease of someone who had been taught how to mingle at a very young age. A short inquiry held him up and he made brief conversation before excusing himself again. He had something important to do.
The man he was meeting looked up nervously before he had come into view, the magical signature apparently well known and expected. They both shook hands – politely, not yet entirely sure of the nature of their relationship. Had the air between them been friendlier, they would have embraced in typical wizards' fashion, had it been any colder, they would have only nodded in greeting. They both viewed the handshake as sufficient – they could always part with a shoulder pat or a nod when this was over.
Their business was serious, or so it seemed. The beers brought by the waitress were left standing until the foam had already set, before the blond man took a sip, relaxing in his chair. The two men talked for a long time. Tables were cleared and occupied again all around them – theirs always stayed the same and not even the waitress came to take the empty glasses away. It seemed she knew them, recognized their business as too important to be interrupted.
When the time was late for both of them, when yawns had to be covered behind hands and the smoke started to make their eyes water, the blond man fidgeted and folded his hands on the table. He had rarely felt this good, but even this feeling couldn't keep his eyes open much longer. He excused himself, broke their conversation up with the promise of continuing it some other time and thanked the man sitting across from him for the chance to talk. They both got up, albeit reluctantly. Before one of them could reach out for another handshake, the blond took the initiative and extended a hesitant wizards' greeting. They exchanged an embrace and smiled. It had been long due.
The waitress shook her head when the blond man went to pay, saying it wasn't necessary, telling him that she was glad the 'thing' had finally been cleared up. She nodded at the black haired man getting his coat from the rack and explained how she hadn't seen him smile in a long time and that she was grateful the blond had relaxed him. They left the pub together and with a wave parted on the street to walk off into opposite directions.
The past had left its share of shattered existences and destroyed relationships, but one of those had been mended, finally. Two boys who had hated too strongly had become two men who had finally run out of hateful things to say to each other.
And so something began that, by the people who knew them both, was called one of the most unlikely friendships ever. But each one of these men and women smiled when saying so, for they all knew that once these two men ran out of things to say to each other, a new stage would be reached - and there would be a time these friends would be called again to give their statements, and to give the most unlikely relationship ever a proper name.
It all started, however, with this one meeting.