Oliver rushed back to the inn after spending the afternoon with Cedric Diggory. They'd talked about the triangulation method that James Potter had once talked with him about, ages and ages ago it seemed, and all Oliver wanted was a moment to catch his breath. Any time he talked about James Potter, those old feelings of helplessness returned and Oliver felt a pain somewhere in his guts that he only knew one way to numb... and he needed a distraction. Pronto.

Wally Grant was supposed to be coming to see him, to be that distraction. But when Oliver was approaching the inn, his eyes traversed up to the window that was his, overlooking the square, hoping to see a light illuminating the closed window curtains but there was no glow, the window was just as dark as it had been when he'd left - and the room behind it just as empty, he knew already. He stopped his hurried walking, slowing to a stop at the side of the fountain in the square, and lowered himself onto a bench, staring up at the window with that pain in his stomach gnawing deeper.

He could see himself going on into the inn, nodding to the witch or wizard at the concierge, and climbing the stairs. Heavy footsteps that echoed off empty walls, the sound of the key hitting the stout little table by the door where he would drop it before going in to the dark loneliness inside. He didn't want to believe he'd do it, but he knew better than to believe he wouldn't - there was a bottle of pills wrapped up tight in his socks in the very bottom of his suitcase. An emergency stash. He'd go and he'd get just a half of one. Just a small hit, a small bit of peace to tie him over. To make things at least a little alright.

But they wouldn't be alright. He knew that. He knew the pill wouldn't really help, wouldn't really mend anything, only make him feel worse, make him feel like a failure.

Where the hell was Wally?

Oliver was stirred from the whirling blackness of the thoughts clouding his brain by a nudge against his knee and he looked down to see a black dog sitting not even a foot away. He stared at the dog. The dog stared back.

"Shoo," Oliver said, waving his hand. He'd never been a dog person.

The dog barked instead of shooing, making Oliver jump in surprise at the sharp sound. He'd never had a dog around him much - he'd only had a turtle as a house pet and what little bit of experience he had with dogs he hadn't much enjoyed. They tended to be loud beasts with nasty smelling breath and a constant desire to lick one's face with a slimy tongue - a sensation 
Oliver hated. Even now, the dog was staring up at him with a lolling tongue as Oliver stared back in bewilderment.

Oliver stood up and skirted around the dog carefully, avoiding touching it - it looked unwashed and there was no telling what sort of diseases it was carrying, or fleas for that matter - but he wasn't in the market for anymore headaches than he already had, thank you very much. But as he walked away down the road, away from the inn and the temptation of the pills that sat in the sock in his suitcase, the dog followed him. 

"No, no," Oliver said, impatiently, "Shoo... off you go..." but the dog simply barked again each time.

Oliver looked about for some way to escape the dog, and he hurried into the Three Broomsticks, figuring the dog wouldn't be able to follow him into the pub and in the time it took him to get himself a pint or two of Rosmerta's mead, the dog would have gotten bored and gone to find someone else to threaten.

The Broomsticks was packed. A wizarding band called the Expelliarmen were playing, a rock band reminiscent of Nirvana, their music was loud and the singer's voice coarse, rising in screams now and then. Oliver wasn't a huge fan of the grunge rock scene - he was much more into the old pop stuff that had been big when he was a teen and early twenties - but he had to admit the Expelliarmen were pretty good, especially for a wizard band, which were fairly notorious for being on the lower end of the quality scale. (After all, why bother stopping at the wizarding world if you were big enough to actually make the scene?)

Oliver perched himself on the end of the bar in the only available stool left which was rather creaky, but it couldn't be heard over the din of the music anyhow. Rosmerta asked him what he'd have and he told her the mead and she nodded and stepped away to get his glass. Rosmerta's mead was made with wildflower honey and currents and tasted vaguely like a homemade jam he would've loved to spread on toast. It made the drink go down easily and before he really knew it he'd done three glasses and ordered a fourth.

The Expelliarmen sounded better and better the more mead he drank.

He was waiting on that fourth glass still when his ears pip on the name Harry Potter and he turned about to see who was talking about Harry. He spotted Hagrid and two others seated and talking to one another, and he slid off his chair and started over to their table. He was a bit wobbly on his feet, and he managed to trip into the edge of the table as he approached, sending one of the glasses on the table spilling over and into the lap of a muscular young man sitting opposite Hagrid.

"Whoa, watch where yer goin' there, Oliver," Hagrid chuckled and righted Oliver with one of his huge dust bin-lid sized hands.

The young man was grabbing napkins from the table to dry himself off with but the pink-haired girl beside him said, "Oi, hang on, I have a spell for that! Tergeo!" She had whipped out her wand and aimed it at his shirt, the spilled drink slurping back off the man's rough leather shirt. 

"Heyyyyy Hagrid," Oliver was saying, even as the girl was cleaning her friend off and he was uprighting his cup. Oliver thumped Hagrid on the back jovially. The room felt a bit like it was spinning and those great Expelliarmen were just playing better and better music... they really grew on a guy, Oliver thought. "How're you Hagrid? You been good since I saw you last??"

"Jus' this af'er noon yer saw me," Hagrid said, and his brow was furrowed with concern as Oliver laughed and sank onto the seat beside him.

Rosmerta arrive then, putting down the pint glass before Oliver before dashing off as a wizard at another table was impatiently waving for her to go over there. Hagrid reached over Oliver, taking the pint before he could. "Seems yeh've already had enough'a that for one night," Hagrid said, and he handed the glass to the red haired young man across from him, replacing the drink that had been spilled. "Now, yeh were tellin' me about the dragons, Charlie - keep on, yeh know how I feel about dragons."

Charlie - the muscular young man that had been wearing half a glass of mead - shifted uncomfortably. "Now Hagrid, you can't be going and getting all excited.. The dragons coming to Hogwarts aren't safe dragons and they certainly won't be once their eggs are stolen from them. What the Ministry is thinking, I don't know... Nesting Dragon mothers are the single-most vicious creature in the known world."

"Any chance'a gettin 'a glimpse, is there?"

"Possibly - but only you, Hagrid... By special invitation, you understand," Charlie said.

Oliver leaned against Hagrid, mumbling something about the inn. Hagrid steadied Oliver, who wasn't doing so very good at staying upright. "Yeh a'right, Oliver?" he asked.

"Sppppiffing," Oliver muttered.

The Expelliarmens vocalist was screaming and the pink haired girl - Tonks, as you might have guessed by now - was turned in her seat, looking toward the stage, a grin on her face. "This lot is brilliant," she said when the vocalist held a note in a shriek that sounded like it had been emitted directly from the very bottom of his innards. He was sitting on a stool, holding onto the microphone what seemed like for dear life, a whole bushel of dirty blonde hair hanging over his forehead. "Lucky we came on a night a good band was playing, huh, Charlie?"

"I guess so," Charlie replied. He looked toward the stage. "That tone he's just hit reminds me of the Swedish Blue's warning cry, though. It's a sound the Swedish Blue makes just before she strikes, sort of warns people not to go any closer. They make it by expelling air from the esophagus at a speed of over --"

"Do yeh got a Swedish Blue at the academy?" Hagrid asked, excited.

Charlie looked up at Hagrid, "Yeah, but it isn't mine. OH!!! HAGRID! I - I can't believe we've been  sitting here near on an hour and I haven't told you the news! Norberta's egg has hatched!"

Hagrid was so excited he nearly knocked Oliver off the seat and had to catch him by the back of his robes as Oliver's arms flailed. Hagrid made up for the faux pas by pulling Oliver into his side and tucking his arm 'round the drunken Quidditch player to keep him on the seat. "Ah Norberta, I'm such a proud mummy!" Hagrid said with tears filling his beady black eyes. He grinned so wide that his beard shifted about as he grabbed hold of his stein and said, "I can't believe it, I can't believe it. What a happy thing to hear! An' in a time with so much happ'n'in' ter be worried about, a happy note among the racket." He cheersed with his mug, knocking it gently against Charile's glass, which hadn't been touched. 

Tonks reached over and grabbed Charlie's cup and clinked it with Hagrid's, winked at Charlie, and took a drink of the mead he was never going to drink.

Charlie nodded, "And I've named him after you - Rubeus!"

The tears were wobbling over Hagrid's cheeks now and he wiped them with his free hand. "Yeh really done me kind, Charlie, yeh really done me kind..."

Charlie smiled shyly. "You're the only reason I have Norberta anyway, naming her baby after you was the very smallest thing I might've done to thank you."

Suddenly Tonks leaped from her seat and was clapping loudly, looking toward the stage as the Expelliarmens were taking their bows, their show ended. She turned 'round, grabbed the glass of mead, downed it in one go, and said, "I'm going to go over there and see if I can meet him." And she was off, pushing her way through the crowded room.

Charlie's eyes followed her as she went - somewhat easily, given the color of her hair and how much it stood out against the drab colors of normal hair throughout the crowd. Charlie turned back to Hagrid, though his eyes kept straying, keeping track of where Tonks had gone. He looked anxious, "She's going to get crushed in that crowd... I best go and keep her safe. Thanks again, Hagrid, for getting us a time to meet with Dumbledore, we really owe you for it... and like I  said, special invitation for you. Come by the paddocks when we arrive, I'll send you an owl so you can visit and I'll show ya the dragons. Alright?"

"I've never been more excited in me life!" Hagrid cooed.

Charile smiled and with a wary glance at Hagrid's drunken friend, he slid off the seat and into the crowd, elbowing his way forward to catch up with the flash of pink bobbing through the throng of people jostling for the stage.

Hagrid let out a great sigh, "A'right Oliver, let's get'cher off to yer room." 

"Off to my room, yes," Oliver murmured. Hagrid slid out of the seat, keeping Oliver on his feet with a steady hand on his shoulder.

Rosmerta came over, seeing Hagrid get up, and collected the empty glass Tonks had left as well as Hagrid's Stein and the other two empty glasses on the table - the one that had spilled on Charlie and the one that Tonks had already finished herself before Oliver came over. Hagrid reached his free hand into his coin purse and handed her a galleon. "Dunno if Oliver here paid his tab but if that doesn't cover it I'll bring yeh back sommat more t'morra when I come for dinner," Hagrid said. "Yeh still makin' yer meat pies for t'morra?"

"Of course, Hagrid, and this will do just fine for what's due." She patted his arm. "I'll be sure and put extra carrots in your pie as always." Rosmerta smiled up at him and carried the glasses away, slipping the money in her pocket.

Hagrid smiled and smacked his lips in anticipation for the pie with his extra carrots and hummed as he guided Oliver Kent out of the pub and into the evening. Night had fallen darker over the village and the lights were popping on - fairy lights that strung across the square glowed and gave the place a beautiful, comfortable feeling. "Here we go, Mr. Kent," Hagrid murmured, keeping him steady as they walked, "Yeh'll be in yer bed in no time..."

As they stepped away from the Three Broomsticks, however, a black dog emerged from the shadow of the alleyway and Hagrid turned to look at it as the dog approached, tail wagging lowly. Hagrid smiled and reached out a great dust-bin lid sized hand to the dog. "Well hullo there pupper, what's a good boy like you doin' on the street?" he asked and his thick fingers rubbed the spot behind the dog's ears, making the poor thing's head bob with the sheer size of them.

The dog barked.

"Dog..." Oliver murmured.

"He yer dog, Mr. Kent?" Hagrid asked, looking at Oliver, then back at the dog. "Well that explains yer bein' out here waitin' fer yer master, though Fang usually prefers to stay home at the hut.... Well c'mon then, don't be lef' behind yer good boy," Hagrid invited the dog along.

The dog merrily followed behind the two wizards, tail wagging all the way.

Hagrid guided Oliver along, into the inn, and stopped to ask the wizard at the desk which room was Oliver Kent's - "jus' droppin' 'im off after a bit more'n Rosmerta's mead then a lad can carry, it seems," he explained, and headed up the stairs with the dog following right behind, headed the way the wizard pointed.

No sooner had one giant wizard disappeared up the stairs did another large sized person come into the door of the inn, followed by two much smaller men - one of which leaned heavily upon a cane. When the large man in the crowd had handed over coins he held in his palm ready to give the wizard at the desk, they'd been given a room - one three doors down from Mr. Kent's incidentally - the three went up the stairs.

"Thank you, Storm," Remus Lupin said as they entered the privacy of their room and he'd lowered the hood of his cloak. Spencer took it from his shoulders, as well as Storm's, and went to hang them up in the small closet by the door. "They don't serve our type if they know and unfortunately the people of Hogsmeade are well aware of who -and what - I am, thanks to an incident last year... This room will do," he added, looking around, seeing the two beds and the fireplace. "I'll just conjure an extra bed and we'll all be just fine... I do hope we can get in to see Dumbledore tomorrow, he needs to know what we've learned about what is going on with the werewolves."