He'd had a rough week, and it was finally Friday. He was so tired of signing things in triplicate. He'd taken to just scribbling random letters at the bottom and putting his initials next to it. He pushed open the heavy wood door, not sure why he felt the need to come all the way to Hogsmeade for a drink, but he had. He could use one, and he'd been offered a drink, and other things, the last time he'd been here. He supposed it would be much better since he wasn't on the Ministry's time clock, though he had rather enjoyed wasting some time on Monday.

He let his eyes adjust to the darkness of the inn, like he always had to, and walked further into the bar. It was much more crowded than it had been a few days earlier, but he supposed 10 PM on a Friday would be much busier than 9 AM on a Monday. He made his way to the bar, scanning the faces for anyone he knew. People from work, people from school, people from the war... it seemed he couldn't go anywhere anymore without seeing someone who he'd fought beside.

Mac spotted him the instant he came through the door. It was a bit busy tonight, but nothing that couldn't be handled. She smoothed down her tank top and jeans as if it made any difference. Brody eyed her oddly. Mac ignored him and hurried to the end of the bar Harry Potter had sided up to. She leaned on it and smiled at him.

"Look at what the kneazle dragged in. What can I do ya for, Potter?"

"I was in the area." A complete and total lie, but he didn't think she'd care. "Thought I'd stop in and make sure you didn't have to bind and gag anyone else since I was last here." He had to lean in a bit to talk, the sounds around him a bit claustrophobic. He remembered it being like this in the Great Hall at Hogwarts during the welcoming feast. Crazy. Busy. Loud.

Mac placed her boot on the bottom shelf under the counter and pushed up so that she was closer to him. "They've all been disgustin'ly well-behaved since ya been here. Will ya been needin' a drink then? Or thin's... other?"

He remembered being around Seamus and how thick his accent could be from time to time, but it still took him a minute to understand what she had said. He leaned a bit closer to her, putting his elbows on the bar, hoping being able to hear her better would help him understand her better too. "A drink? Sure. What do you suggest?"

"Depends on what yer after tonight. Iffen it's just to get wet, I say butterbeer. Iffen it's to get a bit loose, I say firewhisky. Or we have pumpkin juice."

Harry thought about it for a bit, his face screwed up in concentration as he looked at the red strap that was on her shoulder, peeking out from under her black tank top. "Well, I'll be drinking alone. No need to be that weird guy who sits in the corner who's drunk and talks to anyone that passes about the 'good old days'."

"Ya could never be tha' weird guy. And ya dinna have to drink alone iffen ya dinna like. I could drink wit ya."

He rose an eyebrow at her. "It's packed tonight. I don't think Brody would like it very much if you left him to handle it all by himself. He's already throwing me enough glares for keeping you this long." He nodded over her shoulder slightly, smiling at her much larger brother, who was polishing a glass with a rag that looked very, very dirty. Brody didn't smile back. Harry let out a little nervous laughter. "I don't think he ever really liked me."

Mac turned back and shot her brother an icy glare. It clearly said he'd best cut it out. He liked Harry. He spoke highly of him. Her brother just wanted her to be a nun. Brody was just thinking this was the second guy he'd seen her leaned across the bar at in less than a week. Her ability to make friends and oftentimes more with males had always bothered both her brothers. Mac looked back at Harry with a smile.

"He won't mind. Besides, he'll be without me in a bit anyhow. I've to play."

"Play?" Harry had a lot of images running through his head, all of which would earn him the dirty looks being thrown his way by Brody MacDougal. "And what exactly do you play, Ms. MacDougal?"

"Mac. Please. And lots of things, but tonight..." she reached under the bar and pulled out her violin. "But I do like where it seems yer mind went just then. Mayhap later."

Brody seemed to have relaxed when he saw the violin.

Mac grabbed a bottle of firewhisky and two glasses. She handed them to Potter with a wicked smile.

Harry returned her smile, grabbing the bottle and glasses from her before pouring them both a shot of the amber liquid. "So you play the violin? I don't remember seeing you play at Hogwarts? I know Flitwick had a band of some kind. Were you a member?"

Mac nodded. "I was, aye. The only ones that remember m'playin' are those that sat in the Ravenclaw common room at night. I wasna much for public performances back then."

Mac knocked back the drink he'd poured for her before grabbing her violin and starting to play. The din quieted a bit as she got their attention. Brody directed his wand at the heavy door, swinging it open. Her violin always brought a few in off the street. Mac wove through the tables, lost in the music for a moment. She wasn't even thinking about shagging Harry Potter right now. The melody and the rhythm had her in its grip, and she was holding back just as tight. Brody and Connor had always joked that she played like a wee Gypsy.

Harry watched her play for a bit before letting his eyes dart around the bar. He could see everyone staring at her. Everyone had stopped, mid conversation, to turn and see who'd been making the lovely sounds. He smiled, not recognizing the tune but enjoying it all the same. Her back was to him and he had the pleasure of letting his eyes roam her shape. It was a nice shape. Not too skinny, like some of the anorexic witches he'd seen in the pages of the Prophet. Her jeans were snug in the places they should be.

He smiled at her when she turned around and started back towards him. Her hands were moving in a flash over the strings, her bow drawing noises he didn't know a violin could make. Her gaze was slightly intense as she made her way through the tables, kicking a path with her boots.

Mac finished her little bit with a flourish. When the appreciative clapping started, she took a bow. When she bent over, her arse was so close to Potter that if his hand twitched he'd have a handful of it. Her brother was looking at her with narrowed eyes.

Harry clapped along with the crowd, snorting a bit when a few catcalls filled the bar as well. She turned on his stool as she went back behind the bar, pouring them both another drink. He waited for her to come back within earshot before speaking. The loudness of the bar had seeped back in, and he leaned close enough for her to hear him. "You're very talented." He watched her as she put her violin in it's case very lovingly. It was obvious it meant a lot to her. He fished a couple knuts out of his pocket. "Where do your tips go?"

She pulled the collar of her tank top out. Harry's eyes widened a bit. Brody appeared suddenly. He slammed a glass down on the counter that had a piece of parchment spell-o-taped to it reading 'tips'.

"Potter," he said in a menacing tone before heading back to the other end of the bar.

Mac rolled her eyes. "Dinna pay him any never mind. He doesna like anyone I seem to like even a wee bit. We could go upstairs and out of this din iffen ya like."

Shaking his head, Harry dropped the coins into the glass. "I think he might rip off my arms if I attempted to go anywhere near the stairs leading up." He smiled, throwing back the drink and grimacing as it went down his throat. Years of drinking the stuff and he still hadn't gotten used to the taste. "How often do you play?"

A wizard dropped a few more knuts in the tips glass, and Mac gave him an appreciative nod.

"Mostly weekends," she answered, a bit amused by Harry's apprehension about her brother. Brody had mentioned more than once since Harry had come after the drunk that he couldn't think of a man alive that could out-duel Harry Potter. Brody might be able to box him but good. Harry would take her brother in hexes though. "Whenever the mood takes me really. Like wit most thin's."

A hag with rotting teeth put a sickle in the tips glass. Mac gave her an appreciate nod as well. Anyone who liked music was all right in her book, hag or no. After the hag left, Mac slid her hand across the bar slowly until her fingers brushed against Harry's. She knew he couldn't be in doubt of her intent, but more helpful hints couldn't hurt, now could they?

"Dinna worry about Bro. Just dinna let him get close enough to hit ya. And iffen he does, I'll handle tha'."

Harry couldn't say he disliked her touching him. It'd been far too long since someone had touched him like she was. Alright, so it hadn't been that long, because random women touched him like that all the time. They were mostly overweight and older too. But Mac was quite pretty, and not as ditsy as most of the women who flirted with him. He could feel that her fingers were a little callused from all the playing she did. He was having thoughts of how those fingers felt on other parts of his body. He grinned up at her, pulling back his hand slowly and reluctantly, making sure she understood why. "You're saying he might hit me and still inviting me upstairs. You must think me suicidal."

"I'm sayin' iffen ya dinna let him get close, he canna touch ya. And iffen he did, I lay him on his arse for it."

His look clearly said he didn't think she had it in her. Mac was about to retort about size being no indication of power when two drunks decided to let her show off. She was around the bar before he brother could even call for her and stalking towards the burgeoning brawl. She lived for nights like this. Their clientele was so varied at the Sticks. But the rowdy weekend night crowd always had something for her. Her brother seemed to have been about to assist, but when he noticed it was just the two, he leaned back, folded his arms across his chest, and watched with the biggest grin gracing his face.

Mac spun one about and sent a quick jab to his nose. While he was howling in pain and not being able to see through his watery eyes, she grabbed the forearm of the other one who'd about to break a bottle on the first one's head. She sent that arm crashing into the bar counter, breaking the bottle. Then she lunged forward with a stunning headbutt that had him staggering as well.

"I dinna allow fightin' in m'place," Brody called before using his wand to send the two offenders flying towards the door. Then he did a swish and flick that cleaned up the broken bottle. "But iffen ya start a fight," he told those patrons who'd stopped to watch. "M'wee sister will finish it."

Mac grinned at her brother before heading back to where Potter was staring.

"What?"

"Do all Scottish women know how to fight like that, or did Connor and Brody show you what they knew? I swear, Mac, I've seen Aurors who didn't know how to fight like that." He leaned forward, setting both elbows on the bar. "You're slightly intense and frightening, anyone ever tell you that?"

"M'brothers practically raised me. They taught me most everythin' they knew about fightin'" She grinned widely. "And aye, I've heard tha' a'fore."

She placed her own arms on the bar and her boot on the bottom shelf. She pushed herself close. She had not flirted this hard with anyone in an age. She was having the best time tonight. Brody was looking at her and scowling. That made it even better.

He smiled, drinking what was left in his glass slowly. Usually he thought girls who threw themselves at him were shallow. Most of them just wanted to be able to say they'd 'had' Harry Potter. Probably wanted to take pictures and sell them. He was very wary. Mac, though, made it fun. It was fun, flirting with her. He had no idea what was going to come out of her mouth next. He set the glass on the bar, smirking at her. "Doesn't your head hurt? For head-butting that guy? I don't think I've ever actually seen someone do that before, much less a pretty girl."

He thought she was pretty. Mac grinned. "It doesna hurt iffen it's done proper. Mind, it doesna feel fantastic or anythin', but it only stings a mo iffen it's done right. I can show ya sometime iffen ya like." She'd like to show him how she could put her legs behind her head, but that might be a bit too forward. He probably saw more snatch than a midwife, probably got more tail than a toilet seat. She wasn't attracted to him because he was THE Harry Potter though. She was attracted to him because he was attractive. He could be the broom delivery boy, but if he still looked like this, he'd still be getting every invitation she'd thrown his way.

Harry laughed. "I can just imagine. Look out evil-doer! Auror Harry Potter will head-butt you into next week! Wand be damned!" He leaned forward, putting his chin in his hand. "It'd be worth it just to see their face. They'd be waiting for me to draw my wand and," he slammed his hand on the bar, "BAM! Head-butt." He was starting to feel pleasantly warm. This was one of the best conversations he'd had in a long time with someone he didn't know very well. He was honestly enjoying himself.

A few patrons sitting near him had jumped when he slammed his hand on the bar like that. Mac was too busy staring at him to care.

"Well, tha's the best way to fight. Throw somethin' at them they dinna 'spect."

She's like to throw something at him he didn't expect. Mac wanted nothing better than to snag his bottom lip with her teeth and just pull on it a bit. She was also resisting the urge to just crawl across the bar and into his lap. Yep, far too long since she'd had sex.

"I suppose. You'll have to show me everything you know." He grinned at her, the first real smile he'd had in a week. "Of course, I'll have to show you what I know as well. You didn't even reach for your wand when those two men started fighting. Your wand should always be your first option." He gestured with his hand. "At least, that's what Mad-Eye Moody says." He laughed. "Not the one you know from fourth year. The real one."

This always happened. Every time he drank, the memories of the Tri-wizard tournament and what had happened that night in the maze came back. He would have thought, after all he'd seen in the war, he would have found a better worst memory, but no. Seeing Cedric fly through the air, the green light swirling around his body, still haunted him. He supposed it was because he knew Cedric. Because it was the first person he'd seen killed. Because he wasn't supposed to be there in the first place, and he'd just been a peripheral killing, a fly to Voldemort.

He shook his head, clearing the dark thoughts there. "How late are you open tonight?"

His eyes had been haunted until he shook it away. Mac had to wonder what was there to cause such a thing.

"I always forget about m'wand in a fight," she admitted. It was one of her downfalls usually. "At least midnight, sometimes later dependin' on the crowd, but I can cut out early iffen I have plans."

She'd love to get him alone. She'd love to have him out of this din.

Harry nodded, looking at the empty glass. He sighed, realizing he wasn't drunk enough to stay happy. He was only drunk enough to be depressed. "I should really be going. I've got a lot of paperwork I need to do before Monday." He tossed a look around the bar. "Besides, things seem to be picking up. Brody'll need you."

She grinned and placed her boot on the second self before vaulting herself at him a bit. Her mouth connected with his quite roughly. Mac caressed the seam of his lips with her tongue before pulling on his bottom lip with her teeth.

"G'night then," she said with promises in her eyes.

Harry's tongue swept across his lips when she pulled away. He smiled at her, before his eyes were drawn over her shoulder. Her brother was glowering in his direction. Mac's eyes promised sex. Brody's eyes promised pain. He laughed, pushing off the stool and standing. "Have a good night, Mac. In your room. Top of the stairs. First door on the left." He winked at her before pushing his way through the crowd towards the door.

She watched him walk away, smiling.


{SUMMARY} Harry finds himself back in Three Broomsticks. Mac's not displeased about it.