"Cheers!" The clear sound of clinking glasses rang out in the warm little room.
Their cups met lightly in the air, and frothy butterbeer foam splashed out, scattering in tiny drops across the wooden tabletop.
Snape and Abbott tilted their heads back and took hearty gulps of the hot butterbeer. Pandora sipped delicately, her eyes curved in a smile, a trace of foam clinging to her lips.
But beside them, little Barty only touched his glass to theirs symbolically, then withdrew his hand somewhat awkwardly without taking a drink.
"Abbott, I'm sorry I didn't prepare a gift for you," said Barty, his face full of embarrassment. "I didn't know today was your birthday."
Abbott burst out laughing. "Oh, come on, no need to be so polite, I'm not exactly lacking anything."
He elbowed Barty playfully, then threw an arm around his shoulder in a gesture of affection. "O.W.L. exams are coming soon, and for someone like you, who actually loves studying, to make time to come out, that's gift enough for me!
"Back when I was your age, I could barely keep my head up, had no motivation for anything, least of all studying."
"I'll make it up to you with a gift later, then," Barty said shyly.
"No need, no need," Abbott said, pretending to reach for Barty's glass. "Come on, drink up! Don't make me feed you myself!"
"I'll do it, I'll do it," Barty said quickly, struggling free from Abbott's grip. He picked up his mug and took a large swallow, only to choke and start coughing.
"I didn't get Abbott a gift either," Pandora said softly as she set her glass down gently. "He specifically told us not to give him anything, but I had actually planned to get him something nice."
"Haha, no need," Snape laughed. "He's just trying to get out of ever having to receive gifts again."
"But, Barty," Snape turned toward him, "how's your O.W.L. preparation going?"
"Oh, I'm not quite ready," Barty rubbed his hands together nervously, his expression somewhat dazed. "There are just too many spells and books to memorize.
"All the professors keep hammering in how important O.W.L.s are, and the homework's endless. I really wish they'd stop talking about it..."
"Relax, Barty," Snape said, patting his arm lightly. "Look around this table, if Abbott can pass his O.W.L.s, you'll be fine."
"Hey!" Abbott protested, knocking his mug on the table. "I read, too, you know!"
"Oh, please," Snape snorted. "The books you read barely have any words in them." Then he turned back to Barty with a serious expression. "If anyone in your year can pass all twelve O.W.L.s, Barty, I'm certain it'll be you."
"I'm not so sure," Barty murmured, tightening his grip on his cup. "Sometimes I fall asleep in Professor Binns's class."
"What?" Abbott looked at him in disbelief, spilling a bit of butterbeer in the process. "Professor Binns, asleep, and sometimes, how do those words even fit together?"
Everyone burst out laughing.
"You'll pass, I guarantee it," Snape said with a smile. "I'll write you over the summer to congratulate you."
"And if, during the holidays, your father takes you to visit other Ministry officials," Snape leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "for example, Cornelius Fudge, the Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, when he praises you, you can tell him:
'Yes, I'm very proud of my father too. I think he'll make an excellent next Minister for Magic. Would you support him, sir?'"
"Fudge wants to be Minister for Magic?" Barty asked, puzzled.
"Not yet, I suppose," Snape said meaningfully. "But it won't hurt to plant the idea."
When they finished their butterbeer, Abbott stood up, stepping lightly as he went to the bar to buy more drinks.
He proudly showed Madam Rosmerta the new, gold, diamond-studded watch on his wrist, then tapped the counter with his wand to hint that he wanted to buy something stronger, those sherries and rums reserved for adult wizards.
When they raised their glasses again, the drinks were stronger, and laughter now carried a hint of drunkenness.
After several rounds, Snape's eyes grew hazy, and a faint flush colored his pale cheeks.
"By the way... Barty," Snape squinted at him, "I remember you said your family has a house-elf, right?"
"Yes," Barty replied, a little tipsy himself, his gaze unfocused. "Her name's Winky. Why?"
"Here's the thing," Snape said, leaning forward slightly. "I've heard that house-elves sometimes meet each other. If Winky happens to know the house-elf from the Black family, could you ask her to keep an eye on him?
"For example, if she doesn't see the Black family's elf for a long time, I'd like her to write me a letter."
"Sure..." Barty mumbled, nodding drowsily. "But I don't know if she knows him. I'll ask her over the holidays..."
After drinking a little longer, they finally stood up unsteadily to leave for the castle.
When they reached the door, Snape's steps were unsteady. Under the warm haze of alcohol, he suddenly stopped at the bar as though remembering something, fumbling in his robes until he pulled out an elegantly wrapped gift box tied with a ribbon.
"Madam," Snape said with grave formality, holding it out to Madam Rosmerta, "thank you for your hospitality. This is a gift especially for you."
"It's not my birthday today," Madam Rosmerta said, her eyes glimmering with amusement. "What's inside, Severus?"
Snape blinked at her, feeling that there was something behind her smile, but his mind was too foggy to work it out.
"A moonstone face mask, made in France," he said. "I heard Nicolas Flamel's wife, Perenelle, uses it. It soothes anxiety and irritability, and improves the skin's elasticity and glow."
"Thank you, I'll make good use of it." Madam Rosmerta took the box, dramatically clutching it to her chest, then cast him a meaningful glance, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
"All right then, see you next time-"
Snape waved his hand and turned around unsteadily.
Pandora was standing right in front of him, her light blue eyes curved in a smile, her head tilted slightly as she looked at him, her golden hair softly swaying.
Just then, Abbott pushed open the tavern door, and a blast of icy wind blew in through the gap.
Snape shuddered violently, a chill running through him, and in an instant, the haze of alcohol vanished completely.