Mischief Managed Y3: Anthem of Lamentation

Chapter Two: Everybody Breaks

Summary: What do you get when you mix a grouchy old bar owner and a traumatised child? A damn disaster, that's what.

Song: Everybody Breaks by Ivan and Alyosha

Searching for my trouble, but my trouble finds me

Everybody breaks, everybody breaks

Everybody breaks sometimes

I've been looking for the answer

/

Who's gonna bend now?

Who's gonna break?

Who's got the map to tell me what's at stake?

.................................................

Abberforth knocked back several mouthfuls of the cold tea he had made for himself last night. He forced down the bitter taste, not about to waste a perfectly decent cup, and a charm to reheat it was more effort than it was worth. That's what he got for spending too much time pacifying the damn drunks rather than retiring for the night.

But the usual crowd had become ten times more depressing and annoying ever since the Death Eaters successfully carried out three massacres over the past two weeks. It had been a shitty start to the summer, which should have led to less hassle besides the usual customers that frequented his piss-poor pub. Instead, 'saintly' Albus had been directing fellas that The Order of the Phoenix was helping his way. A warning sure as hell would have been nice! But he had come to expect disappointment from his brother aeons ago.

"Mrruh," the greeting chirp was followed by a fat tom cat leaping up with a soft thump to the table where Aberforth was nursing his tea.

"Mornin' to ya as well, Fleabag," he groused, given no chance about stroking the creature as it butted its head against his hand. "Yeah, yeah, I know yer probably starving." He must have forgotten to feed him last night. He had spent too long trying to get the young couple's crying out of his head. Damn Albus for his constant meddling. Damn the Order for having nowhere better to put them; something about an 'unlikely hiding place.'

And most importantly, damn his bleeding heart for not saying no to the whole ordeal. A bar wasn't exactly a place for children; even if those two were technically adults at nineteen, there was no bleeding difference! He had enough of grating teenagers during the school year, which wasn't even counting the ones far too young to attempt to step foot in this joint. The memories of dealing with unruly students, the constant chatter, and the disrespect flooded his mind, making him even more resentful of the situation he'd gotten himself into. At least the refugees were out of his hair for now. Maybe his pisspoor self would achieve some semblance of peace for the rest of the summer, not that he expected to get that lucky.

"Miaow." The cat proclaimed loudly before thumping back to the ground and dashing to the back door.

"I'm comin' ya mangy beast," he grumbled, heaving himself out of his chair, several joints making their displeasure known with dull, aching pains. Following the pitter-patter of impatient feet, he snagged the unopened can of tuna he had set down last night on his way to the back of what could barely pass for a kitchen. He unlocked the door with a wave of his wand that he wouldn't be caught dead without in this day and age. One had to be careful, especially with the crowd he sometimes got in his pub. Not that he was an Alastar Moody level of vigilant, but the repercussions of a lack of caution were not ones he ever wanted to face again.

Jerking the door open, he stared blankly for a moment, a pit forming in his gut. For the past twelve years, especially if Aberforth had gone and dared to miss a meal, the pest would jump outside and paw at its empty bowl like the world depended on it. On this particular morning, though, a hungry Fleabag didn't linger. Instead, he bolted. Aberforth wanted nothing more than to slam the door and brush off the cat's strange behaviour as some sort of female feline lingering nearby or someone having spilt their leftovers at the front of the shop. But that dreadful feeling, like a cold hand gripping his heart, wouldn't let him escape with feigning ignorance.