Chapter 2
As he pushed open the door and walked in, J. P. quickly scanned the dim interior for possible signs of danger. Satisfied that everything seemed safe, he continued into the pub and let the door swing shut behind him.
The man behind the bar defied J. P.'s attempts at estimating an age; he appeared to be middle-aged, but his eyes seemed a lot older. They were kind eyes, but at the moment they were full of wariness as they studied J.P.
"My name's Tom. What can I do for you?"
"You have anything to eat? I've been walking for a while, and I'm famished." J.P. replied.
"Sure. Today's special is fish 'n chips. Comes with a free butterbeer."
"Butterbeer? What's that?" J.P. inquired.
Tom looked up sharply at that. "Butterbeer is a popular non-alcoholic beverage in this area." He finally said.
J. P. shrugged. "Okay. Sounds good to me. I'll have one of the specials then."
"Coming right up." Tom set down the rag he had been polishing the bar with, and stepped out of the main room and into the kitchen.
While waiting for his order, J. P. sat at the bar. He turned around so that he was leaning back on his elbows, and quietly surveyed the room. While his initial scan hadn't revealed any danger, he wanted to take a closer look at the occupants of the room. It was a medium-sized room, with tables scattered around and a set of stairs leading upwards at the back. Also on the back wall was a huge fireplace with a merrily crackling fire going even though it was the middle of summer. As his eyes adjusted further to the dim lighting, J. P. was able to make out more and more details. As a result, he became increasingly confused. The other patrons all seemed to be wearing robes! Their behavior was even more disconcerting. Everywhere he looked, people were sitting with their heads close together, furtively whispering to each other and casting suspicious glances in his direction.
At the sound of a plate being set on the bar, J. P. turned around.
"Here you are." Tom said. "That'll be three sickles and two knuts."
"What?" J. P. asked in confusion.
"Three sickles and two knuts," Tom repeated in a slow slightly impatient tone.
"I knew the Brits used a different money system, but I've never heard of sickles or—what did you call 'em? Knuts?"
"Look, if you don't have the money then you shouldn't have ordered the food! I know you are a wizard, you wouldn't have been able to find this place otherwise, so I'll thank you to kindly stop joking around!" Tom exclaimed angrily.
"Wizard?! WIZARD?!? Just what kind of nuthouse are you running here? There are no such things as wizards!"
By this time both Tom and J. P. were shouting and all the other patrons were avidly watching the byplay. Before the confrontation could escalate any further, two men stepped up on either side of J. P. and calmly asked him to accompany them outside.
"Why? I haven't done anything wrong! I just wanted to get something to eat, and this crazy guy here started spouting off about wizards of all things!" J.P. angrily asserted.
"I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding, if you will please come with us, we can get this matter cleared up quickly," the taller man stated.
"Fine. Whatever." J.P. said as he shrugged out of the man's grasp. "Let's go."