Chapter III: Of Coke and Rain
It began to rain. Thick, heavy drops fell from the gray sky, clotting against the window and turning the sidewalk silver. Arthur's breaths began to finally slow. He had payed for two tickets, before pushing Alfred up the stairs and onto the second level. Where he now sat rigid to Arthur's left, still pale and distant.
"Sorry, lad." Arthur said after a long moment of silence, and only when the pub, and Lukas, were far behind.
Alfred looked over, and somehow managed a grin. "It's all good. Just a little shocked is all."
He shook his head, glancing back out onto the rainy streets. "I didn't think that was anything compared to a lunatic witch and an angry wampus."
Alfred shrugged, his shoulder brushing Arthur's own. "I'm starting to think all you magical folk are crazy."
Arthur was grateful that the only other passenger was an older women with curly gray hair who appeared too distracted knitting a yellow hat to notice them, and a boy with bright green hair, nearly falling asleep to the punk music blasting through his earphones.
"You've only met three of us." Arthur pointed out, turning back towards Alfred, whose color seemed to have returned.
"I'm starting think maybe I'm the crazy one." he said.
"Crazy people don't think they're crazy, therefor you're not." Arthur countered, pulling another small grin and laugh from Alfred.
"Guess I can't argue that."
"No." Arthur agreed. "You can't."
Silence settled between the two and Arthur turned to gaze back out the window, watching dully as the gray streets of London winked by. They'd spent more time at Lukas' than he'd originally thought, as now it was nearly dinner time, judging by the poking hunger in Arthur's stomach from not eating all day.
"Before we go anywhere else," Alfred began, almost reading Arthur's mind, "can we go get some food? I'm starving, dude."
Arthur was too tired to bother correcting him on his grammar and instead agreed, need winning over want. "Where would you like to go?"
Alfred peered over Arthur and out onto the street as a familiar, golden beacon of yellow and red light poked through the rainy haze. Arthur followed his eyes and felt his mood darken.
"Absolutely not." he said, but Alfred was already standing up and shaking his head. A new found determination lit up his eyes. "Alfred." he warned dangerously. "No."
"C'mon Artie." Alfred whined, "We're both starving."
Arthur's stomach grumbled rather loudly and he sighed, standing up as the bus came to a stop. "Don't call me Artie."
"Anything, Art-" he said with a grin before reading Arthur's cold gaze, "thur."
Arthur cringed as an old french fry crunched under his black shoes. He'd picked out a table near the back of the restaurant while he waited for Alfred to grab the food. He was nearly certain that the surface of the plastic red seat was covered in grease and the tears of children who didn't get a unicorn in their happy meal.
The rain continued to beat a steady rhythm against the pavement, making it shine like silver under the now dark sky. Muggles hurried home under broad umbrellas, heads ducked beneath the onslaught and feet splashing against puddles.
Arthur ran his hand through his damp hair and sighed longingly. If he'd known he'd be caught up in possibly the biggest ministry scandal since Voldemort, he wouldn't have made a suicidal deal with his boss.
"You doing all right, there?" Arthur jumped at the sound of Alfred's voice, pulling his hand sharply out of his hair.
"Yes, I'm fine- what the bloody hell is that?" He gasped pointing an accusing finger at the massive pile of food loaded onto Alfred's tray. It looked like a monster, a mound of french fries and chicken nuggets threatening to spill over the plastic tray.
Alfred laughed nervously, setting the tray down and sliding across from Arthur on the cheap plastic seats. "Ha, you've never seen me eat." Was he blushing? "It's kinda embarrassing. Plus, this is sort of like comfort food to me."
Arthur wanted to question Alfred more about just the kind of things he was eating, but his hunger won out as he grabbed a hamburger and unwrapped it.
The muggle and the wizard sat in silence for a long while. The only sounds were the occasional unwrapping and opening of more food, and the grinding noise of a nearly empty drink. As gross as the food was, Arthur didn't think he'd ever eaten so much before. Except possibly on boxing day.
Even when Arthur finally called it quits, and was near sure he would explode if he ate anymore of that vile muggle food, Alfred kept going. It was a bit scary really, watching him eat as if it would be his final meal.
At last, Alfred finished. The only thing left was a new pile, this one of empty wrappers and chicken nugget boxes, and a few french fries still clinging to the grease-covered bottom of the brown tray.
"I've never eaten so much in my life." Arthur said.
Alfred leant back against the seat. "I have."
Arthur rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. "Of course you have."
He watched as Alfred started to poke idly at the leftover wrappers before he got up and strode across the restaurant to throw them away. Arthur watched him leave and briefly wondered how someone so handsome could eat like that.
Wait, when did he stop being annoying and become handsome?
Alfred came back and Arthur hid his face, trying to look busy with something underneath the table, but only stared at his own lap and a piece of pink gum sticking to the linoleum floor. Arthur was just beginning to question what sort of flavor the wad was when Alfred cleared his throat, forcing him to look up and meet his eyes.
"So I was wondering," Alfred scratched the back of his neck and laughed slightly. "If you find this food weird, what uh, what do wizards normally eat?"
Arthur tensed, peering around. But none of the other customers were paying them any mind. Most were waiting for their food, tapping their feet and checking their watches every five seconds.
"Well let's see," he said, relaxing slightly back into the seat. "we eat roast meat just as you, and pie. Although some of our pies are a bit different. You should try a steak and kidney pie if you're ever given the chance."
Alfred made a face. "Dude, that sounds nasty. There's nothing better than chicken and waffles."
Arthur grimaced in return. Who knew muggles were so odd? He thought of all the muggle hate, it had gotten better, but there were still many hate groups who would mess with muggles just to get a rouse out of them, then the ministry would have to interject and make it all look as if nothing happened. He'd seen so many memory-wipings in his lifetime, some were against the person's will, sometimes they go wrong. They erase to much and the person is left brain-dead or mental. He imagined that happening to Alfred, and his stomach twisted terribly. That would not happen to Alfred.
"Actually, the only thing better than chicken and waffles is a fluffernutter." Arthur pulled himself away from that train of thought to look at Alfred, who had a wistful expression on his face. "Man, I miss home sometimes."
"You're not a tourist?" Arthur asked. He'd assumed Alfred was just another one of those tourists he saw on the streets, with big cameras and funny accents.
He shook his head. "No, I moved to London about a year ago for work. They've got me doing international business."
Arthur nodded, playing with a forgotten straw wrapper. "What do you do for work?"
"I am an aeronautical engineer!" he stated proudly, sitting up a bit straighter.
Arthur blinked. He had absolutely no idea what any of those words meant, and the confusion must have shown on his face because Alfred only laughed. "Yeah, I guess y'all wouldn't have much of a need for that kinda thing." he said. "Pretty much, do you know those big machines that have wings and fly?" Arthur could recall the many airplanes he'd seen fly over London. Although muggles didn't have any magic, they certainly made up for it with all their various other inventions.
"I help build and design those things." he said proudly, with a new sort of enthusiasm lighting up his eyes.
"That's impressive." Arthur said dryly, although he was just able to stop his eyes widening in surprise and asking Alfred a million questions. It looked as though Arthur was just as oblivious to Alfred's world as Alfred was to his.
"Yeah, it's not always easy but I get by." He replied. "Hey, you've gotta tell me what your job is now." he pointed out, leaning back once again. He'd practically been about to fall off the seat before.
Arthur sighed, flicking the wad of paper across the table. He was not about to tell Alfred about his current standings in the ministry. He did not want to hear his pity, or how he would laugh at his unfortunate circumstances. But looking back up at Alfred's eager expression, he knew he couldn't simply avoid the question either.
"Well, I work for the wizarding government you see, and I help track and capture dark wizards." he explained, slumping slightly and peering past Alfred at the family that had sat down a few tables away.
"Dude really?" Alfred gasped, leaning back across the table. "You're like a police officer? Man, that sounds like such a cool job. I must sound really boring now."
Arthur felt himself go a bit red, switching his gaze from Alfred back towards his hands, which had run out of things to fiddle with.. Usually when he told other wizards they just laughed. Him? An auror? Impossible.
"I wouldn't call an aeronautical engineer boring per say." he said. "Frankly, I don't see much action anyways. This is about my first proper case."
"Really?" Alfred asked. "You work like you've been doing it your whole life." Arthur flushed. If only the ministry could think of him like that. Perhaps then he'd be able to afford a nicer flat and move further from the city. Maybe he wouldn't even know how it felt to be ignored. Poor boring old Arthur.
"Ah well, thank you, Alfred." he said at last, his hands finally dropping into his lap in defeat.
"No problem." he beamed brightly. "By the way, where are we gonna spend the night? We can go back to my flat unless you'd rather go to yours, because that's cool too-"
"Spend the night?" Arthur gasped. He had to admit, he really hadn't planned ahead at all. He'd been solely focused on escaping from Lukas, as well as being able to stop his stomach from twisting itself uncomfortably with hunger.
"Well yeah, duh. We can't just split up like they do in the movies. That's how they'd get us you see."
"What?"
"Don't split up. That's the first rule of thumb." Alfred said, looking at Arthur sternly, his blue boring into him almost uncomfortably. "That's how people get killed, even if we're not in Hollywood. We're in this together at this point. No splitting up."
"Oh, well, Alright." Arthur said a bit thickly, taken aback with the sincerity of Alfred's words.
Alfred only smiled. Did he ever stop smiling? "Cool. My flat's a bit of ways from here but we could take the tube-"
"No." Arthur said. "My flat's only a few blocks from here. We'll go there, get up early, and then start looking around."
Alfred nodded. "Great."
The wizard and the muggle trudged the five blocks through London traffic and slippery sidewalks back towards Arthur's flat. Most of the wizards lived outside of London, as it was so easy for them to apparate or use the floo network without having to constantly hide from the wandering eyes of muggles, but Arthur both couldn't leave the city and didn't want to.
He unlocked the door with a key, and Alfred followed him up a set of winding stairs until they reached 3A, this time he didn't bother fishing out his key and simply muttered "Alohomora" and the door swung easily open. He forced Alfred through before he could gawk too much and shut the door firmly behind them. He flicked his wand again and the lamps and lanterns flickered on.
At first glance, Arthur's flat looked like any other, most of the walls were painted a pale celadon green, and the arm chair and sofa looked comfy enough, Arthur also had an overwhelming amount of bookshelves, which all seemed to be ready to burst with how many books he'd shoved inside. But upon closer inspection, Alfred noticed that there was no dishwasher in the kitchen, no television, the photos on the walls were very much moving, as if they were alive, odd little plants sat on the windowsill and counters, and perhaps to top it all off, an owl hooted fondly from it's perch near the bathroom.
Arthur was too busy shoving off his wet coat and boots to notice Alfred's staring, and it was only when he gave him a light nudge that Alfred shook his head and took off his own sneakers and bomber jacket.
Arthur tried vainly to wring out his bangs but only ended up pulling them instead while he set a kettle on the stove, which he lit with another flick of his wand.
"Where's your dishwasher?" Alfred asked while Arthur pulled out two cups.
"Hmm? Oh, yes. Wizards don't have much of a need for that. We just use magic." he replied easily, setting two tea bags into the cups.
"What about television?"
"Nope."
"Phone?"
"That's what an owl's for." Arthur said, turning around to look at Alfred again.
"Wow." he finally said, shaking his head. "You guys are even more different than I thought."
"Indeed." Arthur replied, turning around to pull the kettle off the stove as it began to whistle shrilly. He carefully poured two cups, let it them steep for exactly two minutes, then added a bit of milk, no sugar. Although, he put sugar in Alfred's anyways.
The two sat down, Arthur sipped carefully at his cup, but didn't miss how Alfred grimaced and carefully set the cup back down after taking a sip.
Silence hung heavily over them, only broken by the sounds of the calming rain outside and Alfred's nervous fidgeting. Finally he cleared his throat, and Arthur paused to glance back up over the rim of his cup.
"I think that tomorrow we should go to the Thames." Alfred said, and Arthur spluttered, barely managing to keep the tea off his sweater.
"Absolutely not. It could very well be a trap, Alfred." Arthur replied angrily after wiping his face.
"No, I'm serious!" Alfred insisted, shifting on the armchair. "If it turns out to be a trap, we'll at least have a better understanding of what to do next or even what they want from this ministry place."
Arthur shook his head, standing up with his empty teacup. Alfred followed him to the kitchen while he set the cup down into the sink. "It's awfully risky. Too many holes. I say we sleep tonight and figure something out in the morning."
Alfred squinted and noticed the light bags that had appeared under Arthur's eyes. He sighed. "Fine. We'll sleep on it, but I doubt you'll be able to come up with a better plan."
"We'll see." Was Arthur's dry reply.
Arthur changed out of his soaking green sweater and slacks and into a much more comfortable (and dry!) baggy shirt and flannel pants and sighed longingly. He'd given Alfred some of his brother's clothes that he'd left over from an old visit months ago.
Alfred came in a few minutes later, looking slightly uncomfortable in Alistar's scottish national quidditch team shirt. It was then that Arthur suddenly realized that he only had one bed. Judging by Alfred's more than hesitant expression, he realized this fact too.
Arthur climbed in anyways, his legs ached too much to dwell on it as he turned over to face the wall. "You stay on your side, I'll stay on mine."
Alfred lay down on the other side and turned his back to Arthur. He heard him sigh tiredly and pull of his glasses. Arthur reached for his wand, already heavily fighting off sleep, and flicked the lights off.
They were both asleep in a matter of minutes.
