Don't own anything recognisable from JK Rowling's Harry Potter books.

Chapter 1

The Beginning

No one looked at him; no one dared look at the young man sat in the corner of the pub. Autumn Benedict mused. It was almost as if a spell had been cast on him, like The Leaky Cauldron, their eyes seemed to skirt around him.

But they all knew he was there.

"Another pint please Autumn." One of her regulars asked.

She looked at him suspiciously. "Well you aren't swaying, but your eyes look a bit blurry." She said sharply, but a twinkle in her eye, and a smooth smile softened it. "Tell you what, I'll give you half a pint, and then you go home, okay?"

The wizard smiled. "You've got yourself a deal."

Autumn went to the pump and drew a half pint from it, neatly ended with no more than two centimetres of head. Smiling at the man she put his money in the goblin-designed till (It won't be broken into. Guaranteed.) and started to wipe down the bar.

Trina, one of the barmaids who had a savvy way of walking and flirting, approached Autumn with an unusually serious expression on her face. She lowered her voice and said in a concerned tone. "Why are you serving him? He's bad for business."

Autumn sighed, she didn't need to ask Trina who "he" was, and the same thought had been going through her head for nearly three hours, ever since he had walked through the door. "What was I supposed to do?" She asked. "Throw him out? That would be good for business?"

Trina grimaced. "I suppose not."

"Well then." She glanced over at the man and frowned when she saw the mass of empty glasses surrounding him. "Isn't anyone cleaning his table?" She asked annoyed.

Trina shifted from one foot to another. "None of the staff will go near him."

Autumn rolled her eyes exasperatedly, and grabbed a tray from behind the bar. "Fine. Could you watch the bar for a moment?"

"Are you crazy?" Trina hissed, but she got no answer from the retreating figure of Autumn as she made her way towards his table.

She managed to study him before reaching his table. He had chosen the perfect spot for himself; he was tucked away in the only dark corner of the pub, sat alone at a table for four. If he was aware of the cautious speculation around him he didn't show it, as his eyes focussed only on the drink in front of him. His bleach-blonde (but not from a bottle) hair stopped just below the tip of his ears, and was slicked back to reveal a blunt face.

He didn't stir as Autumn reached the table and gave him a forced semi-smile as he cleaned away the glasses. As she turned to leave he smoothly drained the neat vodka he was drinking and hoarsely demanded. "Another."

Autumn paused and looked at him warily. Judging by the number of glasses on the table he was already well past tipsy.

As if reading her thoughts he turned to look at her, and she shivered as his penetrating blue blood-shot eyes met hers. "Another." He ordered.

Biting her lip Autumn shrugged and headed towards the bar.

"Time to leave ladies and gentlemen!" He heard the barmaid call loudly, and the shuffle of feet as wizards and witches left the pub followed. He did not move.

Laughter came from behind the bar and he heard female voices.
"See you tomorrow Autumn!"

The three barmaids left the pub and the one they called Autumn, the one who had been serving him, locked the door behind them. She hadn't noticed that he was still sat in the corner, and he didn't care.

Disinterestedly, he watched her. She went behind the bar and turned the volume up on a muggle-looking hifi, muttering to herself she fiddled with it until she found a song she liked.

"Alright!" She exclaimed when she found a radio station playing 70's music.

Grabbing a cloth, she cleaned around the bar, singing along to 'Play that Funky Music'.

Grimacing in disgust, he looked at the obviously muggle-born witch.

She had dark red semi-curly hair, which had been haphazardly swept back into a ponytail, and her pale face had very little make-up on it. Her pinkish cheeks and straight nose were dotted with freckles. She was wearing a semi-transparent floaty moss green top, with a white vest top underneath it. A pair of flat black leather mules stuck out from a pair of black trousers.

He drained the last of his drink, and stumbled to his feet. Holding onto the back of his chair he waited until he stopped swaying and headed towards the girl. She was still singing, and had her back towards him as he silently approached.

"Play that funky music right. Play that funky music right boy. Lay down the boogie…"

"And play that funky music 'til you die?" He asked smoothly, and put a hand on her shoulder.