Celine laughed at his comment, shrugging a shoulder. "Yea, but if I lived alone, whose clothes would I steal?" His comment had been light-hearted, but she saw the flash of sadness flicker through his eyes, and couldn't help but wonder exactly what put it there. Still, it passed quickly, and Cessa wasn't about to push the matter. She took another sip of her drink, and continued to nurse it as James began talking again. That was exactly why she went into reporting. Well, not really. She liked the writing, and knowing what was happening in her world more than anything, and it allowed her to be among the first to learn of new events. But still, she'd much prefer that to the guilt and shame that James was clearly feeling, over something that was no doubt nothing to do with him. It wasn't fair, with everything that he already had going on in his life, that he had more crap to add to the pile. She heard the guilt in his voice, noticed the way he wouldn't meet her eyes, and laid a hand on his knee. "That's terrible." she said sympathetically. "But you can't blame yourself. None of it is anyone's fault" Celine realized that she wasn't just talking about the kid anymore, and sat up straight again, downing her butterbeer. Maybe it was time for a fuzzy mind, she decided, and waved for a firewhisky herself. She made a face at James' comment. She had a feeling that he wasn't talking just about the kid anymore either. In fact, she was pretty sure he wasn't just talking about a general everyone; more likely he was talking about two people in particular. One of those people was someone that she'd been trying desperately to keep out of her head, although current events made it fairly hard to do so. She wished that she could just sit her stupid down and talk to him, make him realized what a dolt he was being, make him call the whole stupid thing off. They were raised on the same stories and in the same household, that was the thing. Cessa couldn't understand where their paths had split so dangerously. She'd like to blame Albus, blame anyone, but she knew that it would be pointless. The blonde sighed, feeling the burn of the whiskey as she took a slug of her drink. "You're not wrong there. Hell of a lot easier when we were back at school, wasn't it. None of this crap to deal with."

Downing the rest of his drink, James placed the empty glass back onto the bar harder than he had intended. He signaled to the barmaid for a refill. With a flick of the witch's wand, James' glass was once again full. He smiled graciously and returned his gaze to Celine. As Celine spoke, James listened quietly, savoring the flavor of his whisky. At the mention of her roommate, James couldn't help but snort into his drink. "Makes me glad to live on my own." He commented, cheekily. Wrong thing to say--James was immediately reminded of his boyhood dream of sharing a flat with Albus after Hogwarts. He couldn't help the grimace that appeared on his face, though he was able to quickly replace it with a much more complacent expression. James hoped Celine hadn't noticed.Celine's question supplied an adequate distraction from James' drifting thoughts. He shrugged on shoulder. "Needed a drink," he answered honestly, raising his glass slightly. Should he elaborate? James pondered the question for a moment. He didn't want to burden Celine with his sob story. After all, the girl had enough to deal with on her own, and it wasn't her roommate and writing assignment James had in mind. With Scorpius' actions, Celine was in the same boat as James. He knew all too well how difficult it could be to stay afloat in the madness. But she was tough and... What the Hell? He sighed and smiled grimly, "It was a rough day at the hospital." James' voice dropped slightly as he continued, "Lost a nine-year-old today. It's always hard when a kid goes." He couldn't look Celine in the eye as he spoke. He didn't want her to see the guilt in his eyes, though he was sure it was already evident in his voice. The rational part of James knew it wasn't the case, but he couldn't help but feel like a failure.James ran a hand through his ginger hair--a nervous habit of his. He returned his gaze to Celine's. After swallowing a large mouthful of fire whisky, James spoke again. "But things have been hard for everyone, I guess." The same, regretful smile made its way back to James' lips. "I reckon we could all use a few drinks right about now." A crowded pub was the last place James would bring up Celine's situation with Scorpius, but his statement was a subtle invitation to speak about it if she wished.

A drink. That sounded like a valid plan. Cessa had been kicked out of her flat by her roommate wanting alone time with a 'friend' - although when the blonde had questioned her on the friend or more relationship, she'd had her head near bitten off. Even so, she'd grabbed her bag and left the apartment, still grinning as she reached the busy muggle streets, and jumped onto the train. Apparation would be more efficient, but Cessa enjoyed watching people too much. Everyone was so busy nowadays. They missed the simple pleasure of sitting at watching people or talking to strangers. Her father would probably be a little concerned by the hobby, and Celine knew her mother would disapprove, but she enjoyed it, and that was what mattered. Besides, it was a Friday night, and she could certainly manage to entertain herself. She put out of mind the piece on the recent ministry debate that her editor was expecting first thing in the morning and entered into the busy Leaky Cauldron, letting the noise and bustle sweep her up for a moment, and carry her away. Her editor would understand. Well, no, that was a lie - her editor would huff and complain, and Celine would stand there with a bored and slightly concerned expression until she was dismissed. the lectures were getting shorter as her editor started to realise no amout of yelling and complaining would change the blondes work, or lack of. She always got things in on time, and up to scratch. They were just handed in right on the deadline. She really couldn't understand what the problem was - if the piece had to be in earlier, why put the deadline late? Sighing at such foolishness, Cessa took in the bustling atmosphere of the pub. Many would hate the jumbled noise of dozens of voices, the heat from dozens of bodies pressed into one room, but Celine had always much preferred it over being alone. You can't lie to yourself when you're alone and in the quiet. But in a crowd...well, in a crowd you can be the person you want to be, and forget for a moment that it's a lie. Making her way over to the bar, Celine ordered herself a butterbeer and turned to find a seat. she wasn't a big drinker, although many who saw her on a roll would think she was intoxicate. In reality, she didn't like being drunk much. It made her brain fuzzy, and you couldn't think with a fuzzy brain. She had been a Ravenclaw after all, and liked to have her wits about her. She could have fun without killing brain cells. Before she located an empty spot, a familiar voice called her name. Celine turned to find James Potter nursing his drink of choice at the bar, a few stools away. "James!" she yelled back over the din, fighting her way over to him. She leaned on the bar, snagging the stool next to him when it's resident left. She smiled, shrugging at his question. "What brings me here? A pushy roommate and an article that needs to be avoided at all costs is what has brought me here. Same old, same old really." She took a sip of her drink, looking her friend over. He looked tired, worn down, but Cessa wasn't the kind of person to harass people on their personal problems. If you started that, they might try to turn the tables back on you. Besides, she fully believed that telling someone they looked tired was exactly the same as telling them they looked like crap. "What about you?".

It had been a long day at Magical Bugs and Diseases. James had been doused in vomit on three separate occasions, had been assigned five elderly and flirtatious female patients, but worst of all--a patient was lost. His name was Owen, a nine-year-old boy killed by an illness that still went undiagnosed by the healers.Working at Saint Mungo's, one became accustomed to death. The first month on the wards had been hard for James. Each and every death struck him. But after a year of work, James now knew his feelings of defeat and failure that once came each time a patient was lost were not beneficial to anyone. He quickly taught himself to channel those emotions into something better. Now, when a patient dies, it only drives James to improve and work harder. But today and this boy... He was only nine. James couldn't help but feel like he failed him and his now-grieving parents.Frankly, James needed a drink.James detoured from his normal path back to his flat in Muggle London, instead heading toward The Leaky Cauldron. Yes, James knew he was a wizard. He could have easily apparated from the lobby of Saint Mungo's straight into his living room. At the very least, he could have flooed. But something about the short walk to his flat calmed him after a long and difficult day at the hospital.Knowing the streets well, James allowed his mind wander. Inevitably thoughts of Albus, his mother, and the war floated to the forefront of his mind. They were accompanied by the equally unwelcoming replay of Owen's passing. Brow furrowed, James shook the thought away, doing his best to replace them with more pleasant ones. But, it only fueled his desire to reach the pub. Unknowingly, James quickened his pace, eager to wash away his sorrows with fire whisky.When James entered The Leaky Cauldron, he was unsurprised to find it quite crowded. It was nine o' clock on a Friday night. What else could one expect? Not bothering to scan the pub for familiar faces, James headed straight to the bar, where he took a slightly secluded seat off to one end. Even if a friend of his did happen to be at the pub tonight, James didn't feel like socializing--not before he had at least a drink in him.James signaled to the barmaid and ordered a fire whisky straight. As he picked up his glass from the table, James planned to down his drink in on go, but decided against it. Getting completely pissed was not the night's goal. Instead, he sipped from his glass, thoroughly enjoying the burning sensation the whisky caused.He didn't know what it was, but fire whisky had always been James' drink of choice. He could still remember taking his first sip. Teddy had given it to him. James was barely sixteen at the time. He could remember spluttering everywhere, completely surprised by the burn. It was fire whisky, so James knew to expect something, but not that. At the time, he was sure his throat was covered in third degree burns. It had taken James a while to give the alcohol another chance after that incident.Smiling fondly at the memory, James swiveled on his stool. His eyes jumped from person to person, shamelessly stopping on anyone remotely interesting, as he continued to sip his drink. An apparently lonely middle-aged man, a couple on a seemingly awkward first date, a group of friends laughing and joking together, and a lovely and familiar-looking blonde. James snapped out of his passive state of people watching as he quickly realized it was indeed Celine Malfoy."Oi!" he called, unsure Celine would be over to hear him. James waved his free arm in the air, hoping to grab her attention. "What's brought you here on this fine evening?" he asked, a charming smile playing on his lips.