A/N: You can consider this a sort of "part 2". A few months ahead, after everyone has left Hogwarts.

Chapter 17 - Reality Shock

A few months later

It had been another long, nonproductive day for Ezra Greengrass.

He had been "job hunting," as the Muggles called it, for three weeks now. It wasn't exactly how he'd pictured his life after Hogwarts; there had been a lot more money in his daydream, and a lot less work.

More food, too - he'd really taken his house elves for granted, and how he regretted it now!

He had settled into one half of a small condo in Liverpool with Dan upon graduating, and so far this was the only part of his life that was currently meeting his expectations.

"Tough luck," said a scrawny, acne-riddled teenager. He was wearing a bright orange uniform shirt and holding a non-magical broomstick; his tone indicated that he wasn't sorry at all to lose some competition.

Ezra glared at him coldly before showing himself out of the establishment. He walked across the street, which was busy with traffic. Getting used to the idea of dodging cars had taken him at least a full week, but he considered himself something of an expert now. The red hand meant to wait, he had deduced, and the white pictograph of a Muggle meant that he wouldn't get splattered onto someone's - what was the word? Windbreaker? Windchime?

Windshield.

Whatever that was...

He hurried down the nearest alleyway and, making sure that he was completely alone, Disapparated with a sharp crack in the mudroom of the small condo. Daniella was usually home by now; she, unlike him, had found a job almost immediately, and was rather enjoying herself. The scent of food wafted in from the room. He opened and shut the door, stepped onto the plush brown carpet, and started to take off his tie.

He didn't need to say anything; his sour mood was carved into every feature of his cultured face.

Daniella had to remember herself it would be rude not to wait for Ezra to eat. But the delicious smell of cheese was making it difficult. She'd loved pizza from the first time Jo had taken her to eat it, a couple years ago. She'd tried to learn how to make it, but hadn't had many chances to practice yet. So, for the time being, the pizza restaurant close to work was good enough and not too expensive.

She'd planned on cooking something for him tonight, but then decided something so different from what he was used to – at least she thought he'd never tried eating pizza before – would distract him from the job hunt for a little while.

As the front door opened, Daniella took two more glasses from the cabinet and left the tiny kitchen to meet her boyfriend in the living room.

"Hey, there," she greeted as she saw Ezra. "I was just waiting for you, dinner's ready. I thought we could…" She trailed off when she got close enough to see his face. Suppressing a sigh, because she already knew the answer, she asked as lightly as she could, "How was your day? Any luck?"

The sight of her was a rush of relief over his troubled mind. He tried to smile, failed miserably, and tossed his tie unceremoniously onto a growing pile of laundry that he wasn't sure how to deal with yet.

"No," he said flatly, looking contemptuous. "Apparently, one needs to know how to operate a cash register to get a job slaving behind one."

He had just learned about Muggle cash registers last week, and didn't see what all the fuss was about a bunch of buttons attached to a pop-out tray. Why did everything need to be so bloody complicated?

Ezra pulled her into a warm hug, relishing the feel of her against his chest. He closed his eyes.

"Perhaps I should give up," he murmured in monotone. "I'll just... find some other way, that's all."

He looked around for a chair; normally, furnishing an apartment would cost some amount of Muggle money, but for Ezra, who was quite good at Transfiguration, he needed only to find the closest object (it was a paper grocery sack) and wave his wand. He did so now, producing a sturdy wooden dinner chair, which he pulled up to the table.

"What's this?" he asked plainly, peering into the square cardboard box with unmasked skepticism. "Some sort of open-faced sandwich? They certainly did put a lot of cheese on."

He looked around for the familiar fork, knife, and napkin, but found none.

He looked up at Dan expectantly.

"Shall I set the table?" he asked pointedly.

Daniella ran her hands comfortingly over his back. She was a little more used to Muggle money than he was, but she didn't feel comfortable with it either. She'd managed to prove enough of her basic - and non-magical - cooking skills to stay away from the cash register at work, though.

"Maybe you need to own a pair of boobs to convince your co-workers to stay in the cash register for you," she said snarkily, trying to lighten up his mood. She pulled back enough to look up at him. "You'll figure something out, I know it."

She pressed her lips together when he produced the chair. If he really gave up on finding a job, she would probably come home one day to find it stuffed with furniture up to the ceiling.

"It's pizza! I think it's an Italian dish." She chuckled at his question. "The table is already set." She pointed at the glasses and the pile of napkins at the center of the table and smiled brightly. "That's all we need! Let's eat before it gets cold."

"Are you implying I'm not charming enough on my own?" Ezra said, putting on his trademark smirk. All the bad days in the world couldn't rid him of that. "I'll have you know I can be incredibly persuasive. Remind me to regale you with the story of how I won the heart of a girl who thought I was roughly as appealing as raw bat spleen."

His smile faded slowly, as he remembered the events of the day and predicted the likely outcome of tomorrow's searching in one fell swoop.

He took a moment to digest her words, looking away from her and back to the open box again. It smelled wonderful, he had to admit. Now that they were on their own without any house elves to serve him gourmet meals every few hours, he was becoming much more easily impressed.

Still, the absence of a fork perturbed him, and he wavered for a moment despite Dan's cheery demeanor. Realizing that she was testing him somehow, he pursed his lips.

"Accio Fork," he said, somewhat petulantly. "Really, do be kind. I can only take so much in a day." A cheap metal fork zoomed through the air; Ezra caught it in a waiting hand and perched it over the pizza with a tentative look.

Daniella loved that smirk, even though she had no intention of admitting it. She raised her eyebrows proudly instead. "As long as you don't forget to tell how you fell heads over heels for her long before you even realized."

She summoned the water bottle, at the same time he summoned the fork.

"Hey!" She leaned over, putting the bottle down, and snatched the fork from his hand. "No cheating," She said in a tone of voice that admitted no discussion; she waved the fork in front of his face. "You will not eat pizza with a fork. That's a crime against gastronomy!"

She winked at him, turned to the cardboard box and picked a piece of bacon. When she pulled, a long thread of melting, delicious cheese stretched until it broke.

"Delicious," Daniella said in anticipation; she grinned and, glancing at Ezra, raised her head to put it in her mouth, licking the grease off her fingers. "Mmh! See, it's easy!"

Ezra looked slightly scandalized as she grabbed the fork from his hand, but said nothing; after all, he wasn't about to argue with that look. He watched her pick up a piece of the meal from the box and lift it into her mouth.

With her hands.

He looked back at the box, turning it slightly so that he could search all of its surfaces.

"It doesn't have rules printed on," he said, grumpily.

Hunger was winning out against protocol, though, and his stomach gave an earnest growl. All that cheese... he did rather like cheese. He was about to reach into the box tentatively with one thin, slender-fingered hand when the door that separated the two condo apartments opened and shut.

"Is that pizza?" Jo said breathlessly, eyes sparkling. The shorter, rounder boy was mildly sunburnt on his face and looked very, very tired. "Cheers, Dan. You've saved my life, you have."

He scooped a slice of pizza out of the box and bit into it eagerly, then groaned his approval.

Ezra looked back at the box, now feeling slightly intimidated; he fiddled with the crust of one slice with uncertain fingers, wiggling it out of its position with extreme caution. Every few moments, he cut a glance at the Muggleborn, to see how he was holding his slice.

With a look of stalwart determination, he lifted the slice and latched onto it with his front teeth. It was hot, and burnt the very top of his mouth, so he let it go again, nonplussed.

"Try blowing on it," Jo suggested helpfully. He had finished his slice and put his crust back into the box, much to Ezra's horror. The pureblood looked up at him with disdain, then looked to Dan for assistance.

Daniella's greeting grin widened as Jo lunged for the food. "Help yourself," she murmured, but he was already halfway into the slice of pizza.

She nearly let a laugh slip out at Ezra's face, but managed to turn it into a slight cough. She focused on her slice instead, blowing it with more care than necessary to appear busy. She had learned that with Ezra and Jo, she would do best to simply watch from the outside, and enjoy the fireworks. They were men, they didn't follow any logic that she could comprehend, anyway.

She chanced a look at Ezra. "Go on, or there won't be any left!"

Before she had even finished the sentence, Noah's head showed up at the door. "There's pizza and no one told me?!" He said cheerfully, but gave Ezra a wary look before stepping into the room. He'd much rather avoid the Slytherin boy, but Jo was there, so he'd be there as well. Just in case.

The door opened and closed again, and Noah emerged from the other half of the condo. It took all of the mental strength left in Ezra's shallow reserves to refrain from glaring.

Instead, he looked at the slice of pizza that was cradled in his hands like a small, cheesy infant. He bit down again, this time without incident, and chewed thoughtfully.

It really was rather good.

He swallowed.

"How was work?" Josiah asked the blond boy, straightening his back so that he could kiss him sweetly on the cheek. Ezra watched the two of them with polite disinterest and took another bite of pizza. Unfortunately, however, that curiosity was quickly focused in his direction.

"Any luck with your job hunt?" the Ravenclaw asked him, and Ezra stopped in mid-chew for a long moment before resuming and swallowing again.

"No," he said quietly.

Jo gave him a sympathetic look (or as sympathetic a look as he could manage while eating pizza), but the other boy had already turned his head to the other wall and was staring with practiced diligence. He looked at Dan instead, offering a small, apologetic smile.

"Well, there's plenty of time," he said, ever the optimist.

Noah slipped a hand around Jo's back for a moment, before reaching for the table and taking his own slice with the other hand. "Well, they assigned me to the Junior team. I told them I had experience training teenagers, but I couldn't tell them where I got it, obviously. So, this is like a test. I'll have to define the workout plans for the rest of the month for them; if the kids enjoy it, and if their manager enjoys the results, they'll promote me. I don't know if I have the patience for that many 11 year olds, but I was tired of staying in the gym all day."

He looked at Ezra, resisting the urge to give a snarky comment. Back in school, he would've jumped at the chance, but he'd been the recipient of more than enough mocking and taunting in his last few months there to make him think twice. But, at the same time, the rivalry with the other house was so intense for so many years, it was hard to lose the habit. "Yes, I'm sure you'll find something that doesn't involve money. Eventually."

Daniella looked intently at Jo, trying to change the subject, or at least the spotlight away from those two. "What about you, Jo? Is it what you expected? You're definitely getting a more intense tan than you used to, back home."

"You'll do great," Jo said brightly to Noah, trying to diffuse the tension in the room with persistent cheerfulness. He knew Noah and Ezra didn't really get along; it wasn't as though he and the Slytherin boy were very close, either. He had learned to tolerate the smirking and sulking, though, if only for the brief periods of shining redemption that crept through the surly boy's demeanor.

And for Dan. Mostly for Dan, really.

At the Gryffindor boy's off-the-cuff comment, however, Jo winced a little and gave his boyfriend's arm a gentle but warning squeeze.

"Ha ha," Ezra replied mirthlessly, his face souring. He placed a single pizza crust neatly into a corner of the box and brushed his hands off meticulously. "I'm going to have a shower. Excuse me."

Jo watched the slender boy's retreating back, feeling helpless. After a few long moments, there was the distant sound of running water.

"You know it's hard for him," he said reproachfully to Noah, although not unkindly. "It's hard for all of us, but at least we grew up with it. Play nice, aye?"

He put a hand to his mostly-dry forehead at Dan's words and smiled sheepishly.

"It's hard work, but nothing I haven't done before," he said, trying to sound happy about it. "It's just the heat this summer, you know. I'll charm the sunburn off in no time once I have a shower myself."

After a few weeks of paranoia, Jo had stopped taking his wand to work altogether. It was better that way, really, he thought to himself. There was no better way to pretend to be a Muggle than to be one...

He grabbed another slice of pizza and continued the conversation.

"How's the cooking?" he asked, covering his full mouth with one hand. "Are they treating you well?"

Noah was a bit disappointed for the lack of a proper response from the other boy. It would've been fun to tease him. He gave Jo his best sheepish, subdued look. "Sorry," he grumbled, but his eyes had a mischievous gleam. "I'll behave."

Daniella looked at the spot where Ezra had disappeared. He was never a particularly cheery person, but she didn't know how to take that sour look out of his eyes for more than a few moments. The fact that everyone else was starting to adjust and finding something to do with themselves wasn't helping.

She looked back at Jo and smiled, with effort. "It's going well…" she said cautiously. "The boss is quite grumpy most of the time, but the Head Chef is really nice and he's not bothered by my constant questions." She hesitated, then added, "He said I could go really far, if I wanted to learn and dedicate myself to it. Not that I will, but…"

She'd never considered cooking professionally; it had always been just something that gave her pleasure to do. She didn't want to live and work as a Muggle all her life, either. And Ezra definitely wouldn't want to live like that. He'd take the chance to go back to his world as soon as possible, so she had to think of that…

She stopped herself. She couldn't get carried away and make too many assumptions. It was difficult to know what went through his mind, sometimes. They were well, and happy together, she thought. But, even if it had been months since he'd run away from his family, she still wasn't sure he wouldn't want to go back, one day. He could get tired of playing houses with her, eventually. He could always go back to his safe, staged life, with his proper, rich and aristo girlfriend, and if she let herself forget that, she could very well end up with a broken heart, in the end. The fact that he was struggling so much only made her more insecure.

Realizing she'd been silent for too long, she shook her head and smiled cheerfully at the two boys. "It's just good to hear a compliment, right?" She said, sinking her teeth into the rest of the slice.

Jo gave his boyfriend a look that was seriously doubtful, although a small, amused smile played on his lips. He turned to Dan, though, and the look on her face sobered him up.

"That's really, really great, Dan," he said encouragingly, beaming. "You really do have a knack for it, don't you? I mean, you can learn all you can while you're there, and... it's not as though wizards don't eat," he finished lamely, although he knew it wouldn't be quite the same in a wizarding kitchen.

There were a few beats of silence, in which they were all apparently lost in thought, before Dan broke it again.

"Right," he replied immediately, grinning. "And a compliment well-deserved, at that." He tossed his crust into the box without thinking; it landed with a dull thud.

Somewhere in the back of the small apartment, the bathroom door opened and the bedroom door opened and closed again.

Josiah sighed.

"Well," he murmured, tugging at Noah's sleeve. "I'm due a shower as well, I'm afraid. Thank you for the pizza, love. Let me know if I can do anything for you, okay? In any case, we'll be going now."

He looked pointedly at Noah and nudged him gently, as though the other boy was a sled dog on reins.

Ezra was spread out listlessly on the lumpy mattress, naked except for the covers, which he had draped over himself unceremoniously. He was laying on his stomach with his face in his pillow and thinking very morose thoughts.

After Jo and Noah left, Daniella took the cardboard box to the kitchen counter, put the remaining slice of pizza on a plate, in case Ezra wanted to eat it later, put the box in the trash bin and washed her hands. She took her time, not sure what she'd find in the bedroom.

He was trying. He was also getting more and more frustrated every day. His quiet, almost secretive nature attracted her, but right now she found it mostly infuriating. She would even prefer if he just got angry and snapped at her or something. At least she would know what was on his mind.

She turned off the light and joined him in the bedroom, studying his slender, gloomy figure. Maybe she could poke him until he snapped. Or maybe she could just kiss him. She approached the bed undecided, sat on the edge, close to his side, and rested a hand on his back. "How did you like the Italian delicacy?"

Ezra heard Dan come in, but didn't tilt his head toward her until he felt a gentle, comforting hand graze his back. He inhaled deeply, then released the air in a long, steady stream in an attempt to minimize his frustrations.

"It was fine," he said softly. His lips pursed, twitched into a half-smirk, and then settled again. "I probably would have enjoyed it more with the aid of a fork, but I suppose I'm in no position to become a gastronomic criminal mastermind."

He shifted a bit, so that he was more on his side than his stomach; he raked one hand through his damp hair and settled his arm under his head. He surveyed her tiredly.

"More people have been killed," he said after a while, deceptively conversational. For a while, the tension had been easy to ignore, but even Ezra could see that there was a storm gathering on their horizon. "I read it in the Prophet on the morning train."

He paused, then rolled his eyes shut humorlessly.

"I suppose being unemployed is marginally better than that."

Daniella shook her head, as if shocked with his statement, but his comment gave her the opportunity to fuss a little, since he wasn't eating properly by her standards. "There's one slice left, so maybe later, when you're all alone in the kitchen and no one will be shocked to see you lick your fingers, you'll change your mind," she teased.

She looked at him more seriously as he shifted, her hand now resting on his side. She hadn't heard from anyone in her family since they'd left school, but there was no reason for them to be in danger. Except Logan, but she didn't want to think of him. "Anyone we know?"

At the last quip, she looked at him harshly. "It's much better from where I'm standing. It means you're still here, with me."

Ezra huffed out a small, halfhearted chuckle at her preoccupation with his eating habits.

"No one we know," he confirmed his tone fading into a darker, more businesslike one. "Not yet, anyway. They wiped out over half of the Magical Catastrophes Department; the reports indicate that it was an ambush."

He knew that she was thinking of her brother, even if she didn't want to. Ezra thought of him too, although not so much with worry as with caution; if he knew anything about Logan, and he would like to think that he knew more than most, he knew that it was only a matter of time before the older boy caught up with them. And what would happen then, he could only speculate...

He thought of the Muggleborn and the Halfblood, snuggled up in the next condo. He didn't have any love to spare for them, but he didn't want to see them dead.

He placed his hand gently over hers, sliding it up from his stomach and up to his chest, where his heart beat valiantly in spite of all the grease he had just consumed for dinner. Then, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, softly.

"Still here," he repeated, although his eyes were hollow. "Although not especially useful as yet."

To be honest with herself, Daniella hadn't felt particularly scared with the current situation yet. It all seemed very distant to her. Their most immediate concern was staying out of danger's way... and out of Ezra's family's way. But the news in the last few days were making her concerned for all four of them. "Seems like it's getting serious. And dangerous."

She ran a finger over his lower lip. His words spiked her temper. She grabbed his chin to get his undivided attention. He wasn't the type to feel sorry for himself, especially for such a stupid reason. "Stop that. This is a completely different world, it's normal to need time to adjust. The rest of us have dealt with this reality before, in one way or the other, but you hadn't. Ever. There's nothing wrong with that. There's nothing wrong with accepting help, now and then. It won't kill you!" She was breathing heavily by the end of the rant.

Ezra's eyes widened slightly as she gripped his chin; he felt very vulnerable in that moment, which he suspected had been slowly building up for some time. He waited until she was done fussing at him to slide himself out of her grip. He rubbed his chin absentmindedly.

She was right, and he knew it. But she had experience in this world - slow, easy experience, which she had gathered painlessly over a number of years. From her position, it was surely an easier thing to say than to do.

"Accept help from whom?" he asked, after a small pause in the conversation. "I daresay Johnston has better things to do than teach me to count Muggle change. He's a patient friend to you, Daniella; he only tolerates me. And surely you aren't suggesting that I make peace with the Meathead," he finished, hotly.

He wiggled under the covers again, feeling indignant and slightly chilly.

"If so, you're overestimating my tolerance for stupidity by a very large measure. A man might well die from exasperation."

Daniella pressed her lips together, but the memory of the constant tension between her best friend and her boyfriend made her say, "You only tolerate each other. Trust works both ways, Ezra. Sweet Merlin's beard, men are so infuriating sometimes!"

She got out of the bed, needing the space. "He would teach you, if you asked, even if he's not comfortable with you. But you can't expect him to come after you all the time, and always be the one to reach out. You could make an actual effort too! He went through a lot in school, for too many reasons." She didn't need to say part of it had been Ezra's doing. "He put all that over his shoulder, just because I asked him to. Because I love you."

She closed her eyes and pressed her palms against her forehead. She didn't want to argue, didn't want to say all those things. Damn it. Taking a deep breath, she sat on the edge of the bed again. "I'm just saying, you can ask for help. They will help." A pause. "Well, Jo will, for sure."

Ezra watched her pace around the room and rant to herself; she had obviously been keeping this pent up for a while, he thought dully to himself. If there was any bright side to be seen in the situation, it was that she was letting it out now, before it could fester any longer.

"Okay," he said softly, after a while. "Okay."

He took another deep breath, steadying himself. He reached out and pulled her, gently, closer to him. He knew she was upset, but just then, the feeling of nothing but the worn quilt between the two of them was incredibly enticing.

"I love you," he murmured, closing his eyes and burying his face into the tender side of her neck. "But I must admit, I can think of numerous other ways in which I'd rather be spending my night. Can't you?"

He kissed her jawline tenderly, situating himself so the cover was now covering both of them.

"We'll think about it more tomorrow."

-/-/-

Noah closed the door, dropped the sports bag on the corner and tossed the keys onto the table unceremoniously. He started undressing on his way to his bedroom, pulling the shirt over his head. Old habit made him drop it on the floor near the bed; making a face, he stopped in his tracks, went back and picked it up again. At times like this, he really missed home; he hadn't had to do many housekeeping chores, and his mother had taken care of all his laundry. He looked around for a moment, then dropped the shirt on the back of a chair instead. That didn't look so bad, right?

He changed into a pair of shorts, since the day was warm, and the sun hit the condo with full force in the afternoon. No one else would return for a few hours, anyway. He washed his face and neck and went back to the common living room, settling on the sofa to work.

He wrote "Workout Plan" at the top of the page – he would have to ask Jo to help him with presentation later – then stared at the blank page.

He'd met the kids he was going to work with that morning and now he felt like he'd been ran over by the Hogwarts train. Had he been that energetic when he was their age? Maybe he was getting out of shape.

They had taken a chance on him, despite his lack of formal Muggle studies or credentials. He couldn't prove to them he was good at it unless he showed them. But he couldn't make the kids go through the same workout he did, or even the workout he'd done at a younger age preparing for Quidditch.

He scribbled something, then scratched his head with the blunt tip of the pen. His eyes wandered to the far corner and his heart ached. Partially hidden behind a trunk and a chair, was his broomstick.

He hadn't thought he'd miss flying this much. He still had his motorbike, even if they had to be careful about using it, since he didn't have much money for gas, most of the time. But how he missed the wind blowing against his face, against his robes, the thrill of diving, the adrenalin, the jolt that vibrated through his arm when he hit the Bludger.

Still, whenever he thought of it, it was worth it. He loved being with Jo more than he'd loved Quidditch. And he couldn't complain, really. Jo had given up more than he had in order to keep his family safe.

He just didn't think they would have to give up that much if everyone pulled their weight equally. He'd already asked his mother all the money he could, without his father suspecting anything. Jo was doing all he could. And Daniella had at least found a job. Grengrass, on the other hand…

Ezra cracked into the living area in a whirl of black smoke, looking sour.

He had just come from a small herb store, which had been lovely, except for the fact that they wanted him to be able to produce a certificate from one of the local upper schools; now that there were more intense laws being passed, the old man had said, they couldn't take any chances. Kids could have fake IDs and whatnot. Best to just get the certificate.

Bloody Muggles and their bloody certificates and registers and paper money and automobiles. Bloody television, bloody pictures that didn't move, bloody every damn thing about the Muggle world! He hated it all. It pissed him right off.

He was certainly in no mood to see a shirtless Gryffindor on the couch, holding a piece of paper and looking perplexed as though he was trying to remember how letters worked.

"You look comfortable," he said shortly, brushing himself off meticulously and shedding his jacket. He had grown up wearing a jacket year-round; cotton in the summer, wool and tweed in the winter. It was a classic look, but he had come to realize that Muggles didn't really respect classic things - they were all out in t-shirts and denim and platform shoes while he was stuck in the 18th century.

He turned to his side of the condo, folding his suit jacket over one arm.

As if his thoughts had summoned the man, Greengrass stormed into the common room. Tensing automatically in response, Noah turned slowly, gave a sideways smirk and crossed his arms, making his biceps more obvious. "I am, very."

"Found a job yet?" He asked, raising his voice as the other boy started walking away.

Ezra almost had his fingers around the doorknob before the other boy managed a reply. He froze, and a cold shot of anger crackled through his veins. It hadn't been a good day; if he was honest with himself, he had really been itching for this fight.

"No," he said, his voice suddenly a silky-smooth false-calm. "I didn't."

He completed his turn, now focusing on the shirtless Gryffindor with a lazy stare. He was flexing his muscles like a peacock spreading its feathers; Ezra looked pointedly unimpressed.

"Is that your job, there? That paper?" he asked with mock curiosity. "It must be horribly tiring for you, all those letters. Mayhap you and Johnston should switch."

Noah stood, his eyes intent on his opponent. Memories rushed through his mind, memories of his glory days in school, doing what he loved the most, older memories when he solved his problems and released his anger with his fists every other day. His blood ran hot; in a physical fight Ezra didn't stand a chance. In a magic duel…

Jo had asked him not to, but right then he didn't care. Right then, he wouldn't let that smug, spoiled idiot keep that smirk. So he aimed at the only weakness he could use.

"Don't worry about my letters when you should be worrying about your numbers!" He took a step closer. "What was it today? Still can't count your money?" He reached for his bag, found his wallet, opened it and shook it to drop the money on the table. A few coins and a single 5 pound note. "Here, have a free lesson! Tell me how much money is there! And tell me how we're going to pay the power bill with that!"

As Noah stood, Ezra instinctively moved his arm toward his rolled sleeve, where he kept his wand. He didn't want to hex anyone - he didn't want to fight that badly - but if the other boy wanted to get serious about it...

He let the insult hit him squarely, fully aware that he was wide open and asking for the verbal bruising he was about to receive. Of course it was about money. Of course... his entire life was about money. It had always been.

He let his arm fall to his side again, watching the coins as they landed noisily on the table and spun frenetically to a full stop. They were all different colors; some of them looked rather like knuts, but brighter. The rest were all silver, and it was this he had trouble with. If they were all silver, how was he to remember which was which? And if he had to stop and inspect the back of each coin for the denomination, people would wonder... they would think he was some sort of backwoods idiot.

"I never took Muggle Studies," he mumbled in his defense. "I've never had a reason..."

He stopped, feeling his face flush horribly. Why was he justifying himself to this thickheaded prick? He was a pureblood, a proud man. He had enough magic in his veins to blow London into orbit.

But no, he couldn't count change.

"I'll pay your damned power bill, Ledger," he spat irritably. "It's not as though I haven't been trying. A great oaf like you wouldn't understand - you will never understand - what it is like. You..."

He trailed off, pursing his lips thinly before trailing off completely and raising a hand to his forehead. He closed his eyes.

"Fine."

He didn't give any indication as to what he was agreeing to, but it seemed significant that he said it out loud. He started to pull his coat back on.

"I don't understand?! You know nothing about me! You always had everything, just like that." He snapped his fingers. "This is just a game to you, isn't it? You can just run back home whenever you want, back to all that money you have! Josiah and I cannot."

The other boy's sudden 'fine' made him frown. Fine, what? He wanted to ask. "Where are you going?" He asked roughly.

Ezra secured the first button on his jacket, smirking ferociously.

"Everything? Is that so?" he purred, his nimble fingers making quick work of the second button, too. "You think it's free and easy, do you? You're a fool, Ledger. The biggest risk you've ever taken was flying a little too fast on your bloody broomstick. Don't even pretend you know what's at stake for me."

The smirk faded into a frown as Ezra checked his watch. If he was going to get to Gringotts, he would need to leave now.

"I'm going to make your life a whole lot easier at my expense," he snapped. "Try to pretend you're grateful."

There was a loud crack, and a wispy column of black smoke where Ezra had been a few seconds ago.

"That fucking-" Noah looked around, cursing, needing to punch something. Greengrass didn't give him time to reply, and now his throat was clogged with things left unsaid. Who did he think he was?

He stood there for a few minutes, unsure what to do, anger slowly fading, being replaced by confusion and a certainty that that little drama was going to come back and bite him in the ass. That idiot hadn't even said where he'd gone. Probably to some pub to get drunk. Right?