Argus shook his head as he settled into a corner booth at the Three Broomsticks, the buzz of conversation around him swirling with speculation about Sirius Black. That Gryffindor recklessness truly defined the man—no surprise he'd once swapped Peter Pettigrew for a stand-in Auror.
"Argus, you reckon Sirius will actually break into Hogwarts and go after Harry?" Draco asked, wiping foam from his upper lip after his first sip of butterbeer. The frothy drink lived up to its name, a favorite among young witches and wizards for its creamy head and sweet kick.
Goyle and Crabbe, meanwhile, ignored the question entirely. They'd torn into their fresh haul of sweets—chocolates and candies bought barely an hour ago—and were devouring them with gusto. Half the stash was already gone.
"No idea," Argus replied with a shrug. "But with professors, prefects, and Headmaster Dumbledore on watch, you can bet it's secure. Relax."
He wasn't entirely convinced Sirius would stay put. In the original timeline, Black had infiltrated the castle grounds, clawing at the Fat Lady's portrait to reach the Gryffindor common room. Sure, Argus and Lupin were backing him now, but Sirius's hot-headed nature made obedience a long shot. Still, no need to worry Draco.
Draco took another pull from his mug and reached for a chocolate—only to come up empty. He glanced around, spotting Goyle and Crabbe belching contentedly, wrappers scattered like battlefield casualties.
"You two!" Draco snapped, shooting them a glare.
The pair froze, faces crumpling with guilt as they appealed to Argus with wide eyes.
Argus stifled a grin—Draco's bark was worse than his bite. "Easy, Draco. It's just snacks. We'll grab more later." He eyed the duo's pudgy cheeks and protruding bellies. "But you lot need to watch it. Starting tomorrow: one doughnut a day, max on the chocolates and sweets. And a lap around the Quidditch pitch every morning and evening. Draco, you're on enforcement duty."
Goyle and Crabbe's jaws dropped in horror. Draco smirked triumphantly.
The door creaked open, letting in a chill draft and two figures in blue-and-gray robes. Hermione hesitated on the threshold, glancing at Cho Chang. "Senior, is this really okay for us to be here?"
Before Cho could answer, Hermione's eyes locked onto Argus at the bar. "Argus!"
He turned, waving her over with a warm smile. Cho arched an eyebrow at her flushed friend. "Weren't you just fretting about whether we could come in? Now you're sprinting like it's a race when you spot Mr. Grindelwald."
Hermione's cheeks pinked, but she tugged Cho toward the booth without a word. "Argus, this is my senior, Cho Chang. Senior, meet Argus Grindelwald." She paused, channeling her recent dives into Muggle management studies for a smoother intro. "And that's Draco Malfoy, with Goyle and Crabbe."
"Nice to meet you, Cho," Argus said, extending a hand. He'd long known of her from the books—Harry's longtime crush, the Ravenclaw seeker with top marks and Eastern roots. Spotting a familiar face from afar stirred a rare pang of nostalgia in him.
Cho returned the greeting graciously, and with Hermione's easy chatter bridging gaps, the group fell into lively talk. Laughter flowed as freely as the butterbeer.
But Argus's sharp eyes caught the faint shadows under Hermione's. Time-Turner overuse, he thought. The device rewound hours but didn't conjure new ones for sleep. Her days crammed fuller, nights unchanged—it was bound to wear her down. "I'll pull her aside later."
The door swung again, admitting three redheads: the Weasley twins, with Ginny trailing shyly.
"Oi, George, check it—our golden goose!" Fred boomed, clapping his brother on the back.
Since Argus's investment, the twins' pockets had deepened considerably. Shelving their prank prototypes in Diagon Alley had netted them a windfall, though most went right back into wild experiments, with scraps for tuition, family treats, and Ginny's schoolbooks.
George chuckled. "Fred, you'll spook the man!" They slid into seats opposite Argus, ordering butterbeers and hot meads like old hands—clearly regulars.
Ginny hovered, eyes fixed on Argus with unabashed curiosity.
"Earth to Ginny," George teased. "Keep staring, and your face'll match your hair."
She flushed crimson, ducking her head and wishing for a hole to swallow her whole.
Draco frowned at her. "Isn't she just a second-year? How'd she even get here?"
The twins shot Argus a conspiratorial wink—"keep the passage quiet"—then slung an arm around Draco, pulling a garish candy box from Fred's pocket.
"Behold: Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' Aging Sugar!" George announced.
"One nibble, and poof—you're a third-year in the blink of an eye," Fred added.
Draco eyed the box dubiously. "For real?"
"Guaranteed!" they chorused. "Just one Sickle. Makes you look taller than your old man!"
Draco fished out a coin from his Galleon-stuffed pouch and handed it over. The twins pocketed it with gleeful thanks.
As Draco unwrapped a sweet under their eager stares, he paused. Glancing at Goyle and Crabbe, who were nursing butterbeers and moaning about their diet, he smirked. "You two were whining about no more candy? Here—try this."
Goyle snatched it first, popping it in his mouth. Seconds later, his frame stretched, face maturing into something almost... respectable. Crabbe followed suit, aging up beside him.
The booth erupted in laughter as Draco crowed, "See? Top-notch!" The twins high-fived, already plotting their next sale, while Hermione rolled her eyes and Cho hid a smile. Outside, Hogsmeade's winter winds howled, but inside, the warmth of unexpected company chased the chill away.
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