Leaving the joke shop, George strode quickly down Diagon Alley, passing the many shopfronts and stalls without giving them a second glance. Having no real destination in mind, he thought only to put some distance between himself and the place he had just left. What he was actually trying to do was put some distance between himself and the great monster that dwelt in his chest, lurking just below the surface, waiting to pull him under. He walked swiftly, keeping up this hurried pace for several minutes, only slowing as the feeling began to subside.

Moving at a more leisurely pace, George strolled around for a little while, idly looking into shop windows until, stomach grumbling, he realized he hadn't eaten anything all day. Finding himself in view of the Leaky Cauldron, he decided to stop in for lunch and started to head that way. Stepping in past the courtyard and through the creaking wooden doors, George blinked around as he entered the dimly lit pub.

Taking a seat at a table in the corner, George was soon approached by the innkeeper, Tom. Hardly glancing at the menu, he gave his order without giving much thought to what he wanted to eat. All food tasted much the same to him these days. While waiting for his meal the arrive, he stared down at the worn tabletop in front of him, tracing patterns in the wood.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear anyone approach until a tentative voice broke through his reverie. "George?" He looked up to see Angelina Johnson, his former teammate and fellow Gryffindor, standing before him.

"Oh…uh…hi Angie," he said once he got over the momentary surprise at seeing her there. He felt a mild apprehension as he sat waiting for the inevitable 'How are you?' accompanied by the well-meaning but unwelcome sympathetic stare he always got when running into any of his old classmates.

But Angelina just looked at him openly before asking, "Mind if I join you?"

"Er…yeah…of course," he said, sliding over on the bench to make room for her.

Tom appeared again, looking to Angelina. "What'll you have?" he asked.

"Just a butterbeer," she responded. As he walked away, she glanced over at George and added by way of explanation, "I'm not very hungry."

"So…" George said, making a valiant effort at conversation, "What brings you to Diagon Alley?"

"Just running a few errands. Been doing a bit of shopping, and I've got some letters to post, but I thought I'd stop in for a drink first," she told him.

Just then Tom returned with George's food and two bottles of butterbeer. As Angelina reached into her pocket, George handed Tom a few coins, waving Angelina aside. "I've got it," he said casually.

"Thanks," said Angelina with a smile.

George began mechanically to eat his food while Angelina sipped her butterbeer. After a minute, she said to him, "I passed by the joke shop earlier. It didn't seem to be open."

George looked over at her, hearing the unspoken question. "Yeah…" he said slowly, "I think we might be closing up shop." Realizing he'd said 'we', he opened his mouth to correct himself, but quickly closed it again, looking down at his plate. He picked at his food as he awaited her reaction. Angelina looked at him for a long moment. George took a swig of his butterbeer, avoiding her gaze. He didn't really want to deal with any protests or be forced to explain or defend his decision.

When she did finally speak, it was only to say, "That's too bad. I was hoping to stock up on some WonderWitch love potions."

Surprising a laugh out of him, George began to cough, choking on his butterbeer. Angelina kept a straight face as she patted him on the back, a slight upturn at the corner of her mouth being her only giveaway.

"You don't strike me as the type," said George when he was finally able to breathe again.

"You'd be surprised," she said, waggling her eyebrows with a grin.

George grinned back at her, his face feeling a bit strange as it stretched into the now unaccustomed expression. He wondered vaguely how long it had been since he'd last even smiled. Sobering a bit, he remembered exactly when it must have been. Grin fading, he went back to his plate, absently pushing food around with his fork.

Angelina continued to look at him warmly, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she went back to nursing her drink. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Suddenly Angelina reached over and grabbed the fork from his hand.

"Oi!" said George as she took a bite of his lunch. Smiling unrepentantly, she reached over to take another.

"I thought you said you weren't hungry," George reminded her pointedly.

"You weren't going to eat it," she countered.

Throwing his hands up in mock defeat, he pushed the plate towards her. "It's all yours," he said generously.

She smirked at him as she replied, "Knew you'd see it my way."

George couldn't help the smile that pulled at his mouth as she finished off his meal for him. Twice in one day, he thought to himself, I must be setting a record. Throwing back the last of her butterbeer, Angelina banged the empty bottle back down on the table. "Ready to get out of here?" she asked him.

George raised an eyebrow, but responded, "After you." Following her as she slid off the bench, they left the pub and strolled out onto the street.