Fred looked around the pub hoping he wouldn't find any familiar faces. After a moment he felt relatively sure that he didn't know anyone here, with the possible exception of a tired looking woman near the door who looked vaguely familiar.

Taking a deep drink of his firewhiskey, he leaned comfortably against the bar and began to watch the people around him. He had been sitting there for nearly an hour when the girl entered the pub. She walked with a sort of ragged grace, as though she was afraid that her high heels might not quite hold her weight. Her clothes were expensive, but had that quality which suggested that they were owned second hand. She didn't look around until she had taken a seat at the bar and ordered a drink.

Her eyes wandered appraisingly until they met Fred's. "Are you just going to stare," she asked with a slight smile, "or are you going to come over and introduce yourself?"

Fred gave an easy smile in return and slipped over a seat so that he was next to her. "Fred, and I would never dream of being so rude as to stare without intending to meet the person."

The girl smiled and offered her hand. "Christine. And I wish the rest of the men here were so courteous. That man," she said, inclining her head, "is here every night, and all he does is stare. I find it quite unnerving. But I suppose I've grown used to it. You're new here?"

Fred nodded and took another drink. She was wearing too much makeup, and certainly too much eyeliner, but she was pretty nonetheless, he decided. "I've been here a few times, but generally I have other haunts I prefer."

Christine looked at him shrewdly a moment before asking lightly, "Muggle ones, you mean?"

"Yes, as well as other wizarding establishments. This particular pub is not conveniently located for me."

Christine laughed a little. "And the crowd is not so attractive as you might find elsewhere. I'm sure that figures into your calculations more than the location."

"On the contrary," Fred responded warmly, "I find the company here to be most delightful."

Christine rolled her eyes but looked pleased nonetheless. "So what do you do for a living, Fred?"

"I own a joke shop."

"Wizard or muggle? Not Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes?" she added after a moment of thought.

"Exactly that. Mostly I spend my time inventing new products."

"It all seems rather trivial now, doesn't it? Jokes and games, I mean."

Fred nodded. "But people must be entertained."

"Yes, I suppose there are still some people who laugh."

"There are some people," Fred agreed.

The two chatted politely for some time as one by one, or occasionally in pairs, people left. Eventually Christine hinted that she, too, had to be heading home. Fred quickly agreed to walk her there. "You know," Christine said in a wistful voice, beginning the question Fred had been expecting, "it's such a shame going home to an empty house. It's so very lonely. Perhaps you wouldn't mind stopping in for a drink before you left?"

"I could. But then, you know, it would be too late for me to return to my own place," he gave the answer he knew she was hoping for.

"Well then, you could always just spend the night at my place. You could leave right away in the morning, of course. And I can make a very good breakfast."

Fred agreed calmly, as though the idea would never have occurred to him had she not suggested it. She smiled and led the way out of the pub. Fred took the final sip of his whiskey before setting the glass down on the bar and following Christine out the door.