July 3rd, 1891 - Random London Pub
Theodore Gallivan

Holden did not make it a habit to stop into random London pubs after work. Except that he did. It wasn't every night, he was not trying to develop a habit or get lectured by his mother, but some days just needed a drink at the end.

This particular pub served both wizards and muggles, though of course the latter didn't know that and Holden preferred the anonymity of these little hole-in-the-wall places. He could grab a drink and shake off the day without anybody bothering him. Between work and home there was just too much going on sometimes and he needed an escape.

Tonight was no different, he was nursing his second pint at the end of the bar when he noticed a familiar face walk in. Now seeing Theo Gallivan was not an instance in which he would try and hide. The bloke was only a year younger thank himself and they were in very similar stations in life. Not to mention the auror training program tended to make people get close, fast. He raised a hand in salute and then used the same hand to pat the bar top next to him. "Well hello there Stranger." Holden raised his glass in greeting. "Need a drink?"

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   Theodore Gallivan

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“When don’t I?” Theo answered, with a pfft of breath, his brief grin making it look like more of a joke than it possibly was. Not always in public – he had gotten more in the habit, in the last few years, of drinking alone, which was probably bad – but this pub sat conveniently near some of their (muggle) relatives he was just back from visiting, so he’d stopped in anyway.

If it had been a while since he last had, it was because this pub also sat conveniently close to the Ministry, and he’d made a habit of ducking in here from time to time from back then, too. So: Holden Cartwright was no surprise.

And there were plenty of worse people to come across, to be fair – people he hadn’t even bothered to keep in touch with, from the auror department or otherwise – so he took the place at the bar beside him in something like relief. “Take it you do too?” Theo raised an eyebrow in mild curiosity. Cartwright had actually become an auror, which was enough stress for anyone even before the rest of what Cartwright had going on – so that wasn’t much of a surprise either.

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Pleased that Theo seemed apt to join him for a spell, Holden made room for him at his place at the bar. "More often than not." Though he wasn't sure he'd have it any other way, nor was he sure that Theo had gotten lucky and gotten out in something likely more lucrative, but things tended to work out the way they were supposed to. Unfortunately it was still a future that Holden had looming over him and he was decidedly not thrilled about it.

"How's life been treating you?" He wasn't one to keep up with quidditch more than a passing glance in the Prophet now and then. Still, he never minded spending a few minutes catching up with an old friend, especially one he used to spend copious amounts of time with during the often grueling training they'd endured. He took a pensive sip of his pint, relaxing back into his chair.

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“Oh, you know, nothing new,” Theo answered, which was not strictly speaking true; nothing new that he could actually talk about to anyone was the truth. Apparently my new favourite hobby is making out with my seeker at every available opportunity. Once the pint he’d ordered had been set before him, he fidgeted with his glass for a moment. “Quidditch is quidditch,” he explained – in a low enough tone to avoid any muggles in the pub overhearing – but shot Holden a brief smile as if to say it’s good, it’s better, I don’t hate my life so much right now. And things were looking up – for quidditch generally, since the blip of the last world cup; for the Cannons this year; for him, too.

“But you’re the auror,” he returned with a mildly joking tone, to say let’s talk about that instead. Theo had to say it outright, lest it got awkward and the subject avoided for his sake; and there was still a pang about not being there too, a lingering discontent, but it was not nearly as raw now as it had been. So if he could live vicariously through Cartwright, so much the better. He did genuinely want to hear – hoped he was still doing alright in the career – hoped he would get to stay in it, and make all that bloody training worth its while. “Any eventful assignments lately?”

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Holden nodded along. He had wondered how Gallivan was getting along after being ripped away from the shared goal they'd both once had. He faced a similar prospect in reality, and it would be all that much harder after having a taste of what the occupation was really like. In the long run he hadn't the foggiest what was going to happen and so he preferred to live in the moment.

"Rarely a dull day, but mostly I've been regulated to that ship fiasco," The sinking of the Antonina and everything that had gone along with it had kept him busy for months. "Coming off the end of it though. I'm off to Wales for a few weeks day after tomorrow to handle something else down there." Missing persons always hit a little close to home for Holden, but he was rarely one to turn down any kind of assignment and this one required him to go under the guise of someone else for a little while, which was good practice for the skill.

"Keeps me on my toes, certainly." He drank to that. "Good prospects for the team this year?" Not that Holden had much time to keep up with the sport these days, but he followed loosely.

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Theo pulled a face at the mention of the shipwreck – he didn’t dare ask whether Holden had known anyone on it, but even investigating it must have been tough. And it was a career that never let up, not really – and Theo was well aware he would have cracked sooner rather than later even if he’d made it through third year and even if they’d let him in – and even so there was a brief burst of longing in him all the same.

“I s’pose you can’t say anything about it?” he said hopefully, of that upcoming assignment; he could guess the answer, though. If it was anything important, it would be locked down to the department, maybe dangerous to even talk about it. Because he was probably going to be off saving people or bringing in a dark wizard and all Theo had to say in response was, “yeah, not bad. We’ve got a match against Wigtown next, but I think we’ll scrape through with a win.” Shame Holden would obviously be far too busy to come.

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Holden passed Gallivan a knowing smile over the rim of his glass. Rule number one; don't share details. He was pretty good at his job and he saw a lot of weird shit, but the diplomacy of it all and the secrecy was tedious sometimes. Holden always felt like he was bottling things up and eventually he would explode.

"I will have to endeavor to catch a match this year, been a while since I was able to." Work seemed always so time-consuming that even when he did have some free time, he often spent it catching up on sleep or being dragged to a social event of some kind. The latter he could certainly do without these days. He had no interest, it wasn't as if he was old enough to be a serious prospect for anyone for a while longer. He would much rather be sleeping.

"Strange how everything has changed, huh?" He said it almost wistfully. He was pretty sure neither one of them would have imagined finding themselves here ten years ago, but here they were.

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Nah, of course he couldn’t. And Cartwright was doing important work, so seeing quidditch games was hardly top of his list, but – for the gesture, if nothing else – Theo returned wryly, “I’ll save you tickets anytime.”

He exhaled at Holden’s next sentiment, one he knew well. “Strange is one word for it,” Theo said, throwing him a brief dark look. Sucks was another. It was shite, was what it was, how things had turned upside down for the both of them. Maybe he should be grateful for some of it – that Nathaniel Gallivan probably wasn’t as dead as everyone else presumed him to be; that Cee and the kids were safe enough without him, and getting by happily enough for his absence; that Theo was trying to be passionate about quidditch the way he’d used to be – but still, overall, the situation was not ideal. And not remotely how he’d planned for his life to look.

Cartwright was clinging on to his plan, at least, but if Theo knew anything about his friend’s family it was that they owned a company, and someone had to be head of that company sooner or later, and being an Auror was too heavy a career to manage anything else on the side for long. Never mind managing a family, which was its own barrel of laughs, wasn’t it?

He hoped Holden had a way out of it, he did. At this, his tone lowered even further, his look a little more questioning. “And there’s still no news on – your brother?” It had been long enough to feel like a lost cause, maybe, but as far as he knew Cartwright hadn’t given up.

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"I'll take you up on that soon," Holden would like to see a match. It had been a long time since he'd gone and really, it was his preferred sort of event these days. The season balls and parties were a little stiff these days and frankly the company left a lot to be desired.

At the mention of Hector, Holden could only grimace and shrug. "No, I think I've tried a dozen private investigators." Maybe it was a lost cause, maybe his brother really was dead, or really didn't want to be found if he wasn't, but Holden knew that if he gave up for searching for his brother he would have to give up his career and any semblance of what it was that he wanted out of life and settle for what was expected of him instead.

The prospect sucked.

"I doubt I'll find anything, but I don't think I could truly give it up just yet." It was a hope and a prayer, but it was something, he thought.

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Theo gave a mild grin at Holden’s acquiescence. He did seem like he was overdue for a deserved break, even if it was only as long as a quidditch match.

A dozen, now. And if none of them – nor Holden, with all his Ministry contacts and family money and auror training – had found any substantial leads, the trail was probably stone cold by now. How many years ago had it been? Even longer than Nathaniel Gallivan had been gone, and the longer it was, the harder it must be to trace a person’s movements. Harder, as if either of them – Cartwright’s brother; Theo’s father – had left a merest footprint to actually start the search from. (The one sure thing Theo had, of the truth of his father’s publicised “death on a scouting trip to India”, was that his father clearly hadn’t ever headed for Asia at all. He had said that much himself.) 

“How could you ever?” Theo mused quietly, not expecting an answer there. Privately, he knew the feeling well enough of missing family to realise that without concrete certainty – good or bad, closure one way or another – there would always be a part left wondering. And still, somehow, dwelling on it endlessly, stubbornly, uselessly, felt easier than... just moving on. “Sorry,” he added, with a sidelong glance in apology. For Holden’s lack of progress, or for having brought up the miserable topic today at all.

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"Nah," Holden waived off Theo's apology with his free hand. With the other he brought his pint to his lips and effectively drained it. "I probably wont," Unless the money ran out or he got some kind of closure on the matter. Neither was likely at this point however as the cauldron business was still doing fine under its current management and he was making a sustainable wage at the ministry.

"It was good to see you Gallivan," Holden acknowledged with a hand on Theo's shoulder. "I need some sleep though so I'm going to take off. I'll let you know about those tickets though." He meant it too. Holden should have some kind of social life he enjoyed that didn't solely consist of chaperoning Henri around. "See you around." He said as he slid from his barstool to take his leave. 

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Currently goes by Hudson Atwater, yay amnesia caused by obliviation!

I'm in love with this set by MJ