Loyalty and Good Faith

John shook his head. “No,” he said, taking a closer look at the kitten. “Do you need some help?” He offered.

John had been enjoying his ice cream quietly, and was a bit surprised when the shop owner sat down at his table. He looked around - there were other available tables, and John wondered why the man had sat with him. “Sure,” he said with a confused smile. “A little company is always good.” Spooning some ice cream into his mouth he added, “I have to say, I am quite enjoying this flavor, although I can’t quite place it.” He puzzled.

Her eyes widened as she nodded in answer to his question. “I don’t know how I’d do it without caffeine,” Tonks said before taking a deep sip of her tea. Seeing her coworker surrounded by the pink, red, and white flowers of Madam Puddifoot’s brought a smirk to the pink haired witch’s face. “Come here often, Dawlish?” She would have never pictured this being his spot, but aside from the random couple kissing it was a quiet spot to read.

“Me neither,” he agreed, taking his cup from beside him and sipping it. It was cold.  He had been so absorbed in the book he was reading he had let the tea sit. That was okay though, he didn’t need it to be hot.  John shrugged, noting Tonk’s amusement. “It’s quiet, and most people are too absorbed with each other to really take notice or bother me.  I usually don’t run into our lot, and I can avoid discussing work, but you just had to spoil that for me, didn’t you?” He teased. He didn’t have an issue with Tonks herself, but the job had recently been getting to him. It was nice to have a little escape every once in a while.

Dark circles rimming her eyes after her third straight night working into the late, late hours in the Auror Department, Tonks was moving slowly down Diagon Alley in search of a pick me up. She didn’t care if it was in the form of caffeine, sugar, potion, or, hell, even alcohol (it was 5 o’clock somewhere after all) but she needed to get something in her so she could wake up. Madame Puddifoot’s had been the bane of her exist since her youth—there was a long and involved story there about being broken up with on Valentine’s Day and accidentally breaking an elaborate, Cupid-shaped tea cup display during her sixth year—but today the London location was the first place she stumbled upon and she drearily dragged herself inside. “Mmmm,” she sighed loudly for a second longer than was appropriate, as she took a long sip of black tea. As she drained the cup, she felt herself growing more energized and her hair responded in kind by turning from a pastel shade of pink to her favorite bubblegum one.

John looked up from his book, wondering who would be making such a noise in public.  The pink hair registered before her face did, and he immediately recognized his fellow Auror.  Carefully marking his place on the page with his thumb, he called out to the girl.  “I take it you’ve been working ungodly hours as well this week,” the sentence coming out as more of a statement and less of a question, an amused smile playing on his lips.