In Memory of A Friend, a magnificent seven fanfic

Okay, I admit to being a major Harry Potter fan! But I have to admit that I did not stay up late in a queue just to buy the OofP book (I just did something sensible and pre-paid it so that I could sleep in). /p

p I first posted this on a List featuring Ezra Standish of the Mag 7 universe (in other words, I either added or deleted some words or phrases, here and there. Hence, this is a Magnificant Seven crossover fanfic, set in MOG's universe of the ATF. CBS owns Mag Seven, J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and it's universe, and Bernadette owns Lenny (who is mentioned in here). I own nothing and have nothing (not even any pets to give you) should someone decide to sue me. Well, maybe except for student loans, bills etc... If you want those, I can give them to you right now! Just remember to pay them. /p

Takes place after The Order of the Phoenix

In Memory of a Friend

p Josiah rang the doorbell. The team had been worried about Ezra. He called work that morning demanding a personal day off. As there was nothing planned, just paper work and the undercover agent claimed that he could do from home, Chris did give him the day off Then Ezra stated that he would ask for another day off in the near furture and would let them know when as soon as possible. But the way he had sounded on the phone... He had been crying. You could tell by the nasal congestion. No matter how much a person could try to cover up the fact that they had been crying, no one could cover that up. /p

"Ezra?" Josiah called as he knocked this time. He heard someone come to the door and unlock it. Ezra nodded as he opened the door.

"Mr. Sanchez. Please do come in."

p Josiah nodded to the Southerner as he entered the townhouse. He noticed some activity surrounding the fireplace. "Brother Ezra?" he asked shrugging to the fireplace. /p

"I just had some cleaning done on it this morning. It is time to have it done. A part of me did not want to... but it had to be done."

"Well, if you should ever decide to light a fire and the chimney is clogged..."

Standish shook his head. "No, Mr. Sanchez, that is not the reason why. But thank you for thinking of my health."

p The profiler gazed at his friend. Despite looking as near-emaculate as usual in casual slacks and a long-sleeved shirt, he noticed swollen red eyes and the entrace of Ezra's nostrils were also red. "Are you okay?" /p

p Ezra was silent for a bit then responded, "Not really, but I shall survive." He looked down upon the floor as he turned to the kitchen. "Am I to surmise that our colleagues are curious as to why I have taken a personal day?" /p

p Sanchez followed the undercover agent as the latter went to the table and reached for the bottle already standing on it. He poured some of the liquid into a glass. "I'd offer you some, but I know that you are still on duty," he apologised as he drank the beverage. /p

"Whisky?" Ezra nodded. "Isn't it a little early in the morning for that,Brother Ezra?"

"Not when you doing it in memory of a friend."

Josiah froze. "Lenny?" Ezra shook his head. "Then who?" he asked as he pulled out a chair and sat down.

p "A friend from school. We lost touch for a while, one could say." Standish then snorted. "For a long while actually. I heard from another friend that he was killed." /p

"Good friend?" Josiah pressed as he reached for Ezra's glass and poured some whisky into it before downing it himself.

p Ezra smiled at the comaderie. "He wasn't my best friend, but yes, he was a good friend. One who had the capacity for forgiveness. One who would give up his life for those he cared about in an instant. Without thinking of the consequences to himself." /p

p "So in other words, someone who was a lot like you?" At his friends's cocked head, Josiah furthered, "You don't care if you're hurt and the possibility of death doesn't really phase you out, if someone you care about is in danger." /p

p Ezra gave a pained smile. "Yes, I guess that is true enough. However, I can also think of several others whom Sirius and I knew who would do the exact same thing." /p

br "His name was Sirius?" Ezra nodded as he took the glass from Josiah's hand and poured more liquid. "What was his last name?" /p

Standish downed his drink. With a sad smile he asked, "Does it really matter?"

Josiah shrugged. "For some, no. But it would be nice to know the name of the man, to whom I am drinking this lovely whisky, in his memory."

p "Josiah," Ezra began as he examined his glass. "Ask me no questions and I will tell you no lies. His last name, while not irrelevant, is not needed. However, if you insist, you may call him Padfoot." /p

p Sanchez got up and retrieved another glass from the cupboard. Upon coming back to the table, he poured himself half a glass and raised it. "To Sirius Padfoot." /p

Ezra smiled at that despite his evident grief. "To Sirius." Upon finishing the golden liquid, both set their glasses upon the table.

"How long had you known him?"

"Too long to count while half-smashed," answered Ezra as he poured more whisky into his glass.

"Are you sure that you want to do this, Ezra?" queried a concerned Josiah. Ezra just downed the beverage. "So, you met in school. How?"

p Ezra thought for a moment before answering. "Chemistry," he responded, thinking 'Well, Potions is like chemistry. Sort of.' "However, we were also in the same dormitory." /p

p The profiler nodded. "When's the funeral?" This question apparently pained the Southerner, who just refilled his glass. Josiah reached out and put his hand on his friend's glass. "This is not the way to go about mourning or celebrating one's memory." /p

"This will be the last glass, Josiah. If you feel the need to, you may even take the bottle with you."

"Small comfort, Ezra. That's the last of the bottle."

"And I have no more in the house."

p Josiah examined his friend and saw that his friend was letting him know the truth. "Okay," the bigger man stated as he brought his hand to his side. Ezra saluted him with the glass before swallowing its contents. "How did he die?" /p

p Standish looked at the table. "He died saving his godson." He looked up at his friend. "Josiah, if you don't mind, I have some errands that must be done today..." /p

"Ezra, you just drank a bottle of whisky!"

p "Three-quarters of a bottle to be exact, and I have a strong constitution. I can handle it. Granted I did say earlier that I was half-smashed, but I am not fully intoxicated. Besides, I give you my word as a gentleman, that I will not drive." /p

Josiah got up taking the hint. "Are you sure now?" he asked as his friend escorted him to the front door.

"Absolutely."

p "You may want to shower and change before going out then, Brother Ezra. As while you don't smell like a distillery, you do smell of alcohol." /p

Ezra gave a small smile. "I will take that under advisement."

Josiah opened the door. He looked outside, then turned around and gave his co-worker a hug. "I'm sorry about Sirius."

Ezra was a bit startled, but eventually gave a small hug back. "Thank-you Josiah." He stayed for a bit longer then let go.

Josiah also let go and placed his hands on Ezra's shoulders. "If you need someone to talk to, just remember that I'm always here."

p "I shall, Mr. Sanchezl. Now, you best be on your way back to our employment before our esteemed leader decides to have our colleagues join us." /p

"Remember now, no driving!" Joshiah yelled out as he went to his vehicle.

"I give you my word Mr. Sanchez, I will not travel by car," Ezra returned.

Josiah opened up his car door and went inside. He gave his friend a last quick look before backing out of the driveway and taking off.

p Ezra went back inside and closed the door before locking it. "Okay, shower first, then change," he muttered before going to the fireplace. He bent down and put his hands through a powdered substance. He gave a small smile. "Then it's off to Diagon Alley." /p