big hand, small hand, five o'clock (tara)

Diagon Alley was crowded with people. It was a summer Friday and somehow people were still crowding into the city. Work was long and boring - as usual. All the young wizard wanted to do was spend the weekend going through his own personal work at home. There was also a quidditch match on Sunday to keep his distracted. Mostly though he was happy for a long, quiet weekend at home with his personal projects.

Silas pulled his suit jacket off and hung it on the hook under the bar. Sighing he loosened his tie before climbing on the bar stool beside him. He pushed his sleeves up his fore arms and leaned against the bar. Glancing at the silver watch on his wrist he noted that it was already ten after 5. He'd not rushed here because she was never on time but this was a bit much. 
Friday happy hour was a time honored tradition. She was never on time but she was never this late. The bar tender wandered over and nodded a hello. Silas and Tara were well known. "Where's your girl?" the old man asked jerking his head to the empty stool next to the young man. 

Silas shrugged resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Who knows. She'll be here. We'll take two," he tapped the bar space between himself and the empty stool next to him. Behind him the door opened and he glanced over his shoulder expectantly. An old man in plaid robes wandered in. Not who he was looking for. 

The two beers he ordered were sat down in front of him. "Want me to put it on your tab?" the keep asked. Silas nodded, "Yeah. Did you catch that Falmouth match last night?" Now the bartender cracked a smile, "Oy, that was a bloody one wasn't it?" 

Silas grinned, "Mate, it was totally mental. That beater went off. Totally lost the plot with the Kestrel's chaser."

"I thought he was going to beat him off his bloody broom!" 

"Me too. I couldn't believe they didn't call it sooner," Silas shook his head and reached for his beer raising his pint to his lips. After a long, busy week crunching numbers at the family's office this was his bliss. Sitting in his favorite pub with his best friend and their favorite bar keep. He couldn't quite remember when they'd started the tradition but it seemed like it'd been forever. The bar keep sat a bowl of crisps on the bar in front of him. 

"You read today they are gonna suspend him for five matches?" he asked leaning against the bar in front of Silas. The door sounded again. Smirking the bar keep nodded towards the door. 
Turning on his stool to look he couldn't help but grin as Tara entered the pub. Smirking he shook his head at her, mocking disappointment in her tardiness. He turned back forward, facing the bar. As she walked up to the bar, the empty stool next to him he glanced side ways at her, his eyebrow raised. "You know we agreed to meet at five o'clock," a devilish smirk crossed his features, "That's when the big hand is on the 12 and the small hand is on the five." 

Tara rushed through Diagon, her brunette hair flying in the breeze behind her as she gave little smiles to the witches and wizards she squeezed past. She knew Silas was going to say something, but really, she was only five minutes late. Ish. Her day at work had been long, but productive. Her and Colum had tried a new charm to help with accuracy and agility that they were aiming for a seeker specific line. But really, it was a broom good enough for any player. The marketing would come later, after they had figured out the magic.

She breezed through the door of the pub, spying the familiar figure of her best friend and giving him a wide smile. She knew what that smirk and that raised eyebrow so she didn't even wait to roll her eyes at him as he explained so diligently how to read a clock. "Oh really? Is that what it means?" she asked with sarcasm as she ran a hand over his shoulder and leaned in to peck his cheek before she stood on her tiptoes and leaned across the bar, presenting her cheek for Gus the barkeep to kiss, which he did and she gave him a bright "hello" before plunking herself down on the barstool next to Silas.

"What'd I miss?" she asked, looking between Silas and Gus as she slid her beer towards her and gulped some down, the cool liquid quenching her thirst in just the way she needed it. "How was work?" she added, looking at her friend and tilting her head, throwing a glance at Gus and wondering if he remembered her usual plate of jalapeno poppers. He gave her a quick smile and a nod, answering her silent question, which made her happy before she looked back toward Silas.

Silas smirked down at her. “Yeah that’s what it means. Do I need to enchant a watch for you? Maybe it can yell, ‘Silas is waiting for you!’ ?” Shaking his head he leaned in to her as she draped her arm around him and planted a peck on his cheek. It was easy to take the mick out of her for being late but he knew he could never actually be annoyed with her over something so trivial. Picking on her was just how he showed his affection. He was not an overly emotional person nor particularly expressive. But she was special to him, his best mate, his ride or die, and it would take a lot more than being late and cheap taste in bar snacks to change that.

Gus winked at him as she planted a friendly peck on his cheek. It seemed sometimes like Gus has always been there in their lives. Even though they’d met in school the old man and his bar had become central to their adult lives. He shifted, getting comfortable on his worn stool, looping his fingers through the handle of his pint glass.

“Ah, you just missed a goblin come in here from Gringotts throwing Galleons at us all. See what happens when you’re late?” he smirked before taking a swig of beer. He popped one of the hot crisps in his mouth turning on his stool to face Tara and give her his full attention.  “We were just chatting about the game last night though and that Falmouth beater who almost beat the shit out of that chaser. Did you see the coverage? Ah it was like a proper Quidditch match where half the team leaves the pitch crippled. That final swoop in I thought he was gonna beat ‘em off the actual broom!” he said motioning the swoop with his hands, animated and energetic.

Sighing he shook his head. Work was always just work. There was no passion in his job, she knew that. He knew to some degree she was worried he would spend his whole life pushing paper at the family business and always regret not taking more risks. “It was work, you know? We got into a nasty tariff battle with the Belgian Ministry over trying to import some Japanese enchanted laundry things.” Pursing his lips he raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘it was so thrilling’ in sarcasm. “Did you know that in Belgium there is a different tax rate for home goods than consumer goods? Because I did not and I’m pretty sure I would have died happily never knowing that.” He laughed reaching for another chip before sighing heavily. “I do have some thoughts about this thing...kind of work...once I get this whole beer in me I’ll try and bring it up. I’ve been thinking about it, keeping it from you for awhile, so I need some liquid courage first.”

“Come on, surely your week was more exciting than that? At least I hope for both our sakes it was.” He watched as Gus sat a basket of her beloved pepper poppers down on the bar in front of her. There was notably way more poppers in the order than were listed on the menu. Arching his eyebrow he glanced at Gus. Always buttering her up he was. “Don’t worry Si, it’s on your tab,” the old man teased before being waved down to the other end of the bar.