Disclaimer... Yet again I point out that I am not JKR. And unless we perfect cloning and mind transplants, then I never will be. That said, I am obviously not making any profit from this. My reward is being able to close my eyes and see the pretty things. Ohhhhh the pretty things.

Dedication... To alcohol! The cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems! :D And also to Bally *liick*. For dragging me up onto the pedestal and letting me play in the Linenverse. Is their any gift you could give me that would be better?

Warning... Boys!! With other boys!!! Noooooooo!!! Get out now!!! Run run!!! Flee!!..........

................Still here? Good good. Now that we have gotten rid of the faint hearted, lead on o' intrepid reader!

~ Chapter 1 ~

I sat on the barstool staring into the amber liquid at the bottom of my glass, following the swirls as the ice clinked against the side of glass. The pub itself was near empty; there being only a few regular punters bar myself and the barman, Bill. Bill was an older muggle of about fifty who also owned the little village tavern close to my home in Church Stretton.

I had my arms and upper body propped on the bar, aware that in this position no one would interrupt my drowning of sorrows. Not that my sorrows were so great any more. I had used my magically fake ID to spend half of the summer in this very muggle pub trying to forget Sirius and his girlfriend at the bottom of every glass of cheap, poly-malt whiskey. It was all I could afford. I had slowly recovered my perspective on the situation, and last night I had seen Sirius for the first time since that awful night. It had not been as bad as I had feared.

"So how did the big meeting go? How was she?" My eyes and head lifted, causing the ice in my glass to tinkle again. Bill was standing in front of me, palms down on the mahogany bar. Having drunk here almost every night for half the holidays Bill had gradually come to know of my troubles and I had never disabused him of his assumption that the person I drank to forget was a 'she'.

I leaned back slightly, sitting up straighter. I was dressed as a muggle to blend in, wearing an old pair of battered bluejeans and a generic faded black T-shirt. On my feet I had some heavy duty black boots of whose purchase had been greatly inspired by Sirius.

I still had not replied so Bill continued. "I thought you were ready. You said you were looking forward to it."

I nodded slowly. "It was fine." I sipped my drink. "In fact we all had a great time. It was good to see them all."

Bill frowned at me, huge bushy eyebrows meeting over his nose like two small rodents mating. "So why the long face?" I sighed. Why the long face indeed. I placed the glass down on the bar.

"Because I feel ok. I feel fine. This is the person I though I would spend the rest of my life with, yet here I am, able to move on and feel ok." I saw understanding begin to blossom in Bill's eyes. "Was I really so in love? Am I that fickle?"

Bill threw back his head and laughed, a deep mocking sound that made two men playing blackjack near the back start. "You young people make me laugh, I swear you do." He pulled out a bright red handkerchief and wiped his mouth with it, a habit that fascinated me. "What's the problem? Is it only if you spend the rest of your life moping that you were truly in love? Is the world to be never right again?" He held a hand to his head in a dramatic gesture. I could not help but laugh at his antics. He chuckled and continued. "That's not the way human nature works lad. If you're strong you heal. You let yourself move on and do things the healthy way. It's only the weak that cry for ten years then die alone and bitter. I never thought that would happen to you."

I smiled at the compliment. So I was 'strong'. Well it was definitely better than unfeeling, as I had been thinking I must be all day. I picked up my glass and drained it, wincing at the bitter taste and wishing I could afford the expensive top shelf stuff. Bill raised an eyebrow in question and I ordered a pint of Guinness. He laughed again.

"Ah, the easy way to tell when a man's heart is mended. He stops drinking cheap whiskey and opts for a pint of the good stuff instead." He obliged and placed the black and cream pint in from of me. I took a grateful mouthful, feeling happier than ever. I was strong. Everything would be fine. I had good friends, good family, and a smooth pint of chewable beer in my hand. I grinned at Bill and relaxed into the barstool.

*

There were four empty pint glasses lined up on the bar, but I was only mildly buzzed. My ability to hold my drink was a legacy of my wolf nature and a long drinking history with my friends, supplemented by the summers excess. The fifth pint had been placed down while I indulged in a much-needed visit to the cramped gents. As I walked back over to my stool I was surprised to see someone else on the next one along. It was rare for non-regulars to be in the pub on a weeknight, and all five were already there. The man looked to be tall, wearing black trousers and black shoes. The hood of the long dark green overcoat he wore covered his upper body and head. The coat was soaked from the summer storms that I had long forgotten were raging outside. As I sat back down on my stool I listened to Bill's enthusiastic greeting of the newcomer.

"It's been too long Luke. I was expecting you at the beginning of the summer." While he spoke Bill was busy pulling another pint of Guinness. I turned to greet the man, he being so obviously a good friend of Bill's and a fellow Guinness drinker. As I did he pulled back his hood, shaking a few stray raindrops off the long ice-blonde hair, drawn back and tied at the nape. He lifted his eyes to mine and we both stopped, staring, shocked. It was Lucius Malfoy.