Leaving Green Sleeves

Chapter two;

The importance of a good cup of coffee in the morning

Tyke woke up some time before lunch, feeling more dead than alive. On shaky legs he walked into the kitchen and found the can of instant coffee - strong coffee, black as sin. With the steaming cup in his hand, he walked outside and started picking up empty bottles from the ground. After the first dozen he gave up and sat down on the front steps of the house. The sky was heavy with rain, and the sun was nothing but a faint memory. Sighing, he took in the sight of the pile of ashes that made an ugly hole in what was supposed to be his lawn.

He'd better start to clean up this place. Not just the broken bottles, but everything - maybe pick up new windows for the first floor. The house itself was robust, but everything needs to be taken care of. This was his home after all, Castle Pommeroy. He had the plans but never the time, and if he, on a rare occasion, had the time he never had the money. It was getting rather depressing, watching it fall apart like this; it was his responsibility, and his alone.

He heard the heavy snoring from his older brother through the window of his tiny room. Pug didn't care as long as he didn't have to pay rent - he was content just sitting on his arse while Tyke drove off to work in the mornings. When he came home in the afternoons Pug would still be sitting, complaining about something or another. They were almost like a married couple, Tyke mused. Without the benefits, of course.

The cassette player stood on the kitchen table and the tapes were scattered around the room. Tyke started to pick them up and put them into their covers. After a moment of contemplation, he put one of the tapes in the player and soon the music filled the little room. Not too loud, he wasn't in the right condition for that just yet, not to mention that it would annoy Pug. An annoyed Pug was an unpleasant Pug.

He peeked into the living room to see if Dung was awake, but the sofa was empty. Puzzled, Tyke returned to his coffee, and after drinking a whole mug he started to feel human again. He knocked on his brother's door.

"Wakey, wakey, rise and sh-"

"Fuck you."

"Now, that isn't necessary, is it?" Tyke felt slightly hurt, but decided to let the matter drop. "Where's Dung?"

"Dunno, n' I don' care," Pug mumbled irritably into his pillow and turned his face to the wall, away from the light. Tyke sighed and walked back to the kitchen.

After two more cups of coffee and another hour of staring at the miserable garden, he decided to mow the lawn. In other words, he had to find a scythe. In the shed behind the house he found the rusty gardening equipment that had followed the house with the sale, but it was so blunt it merely pushed the grass and weeds around and didn't cut anything. Frustrated, he put it aside and once more went to look for Dung in the hope of getting the scythe ground.

Dung wasn't in the living room. Neither on the first floor, and he hadn't accidentally slipped into Tyke's own bed while he was out. Where the hell was he? Tyke started to get annoyed; Dung performed disappearing acts like this sometimes, but he usually left a note and he never forget to take his things with him. He took a look in the foeglass on the table. Warty's ugly face stared back at him and Tyke shuddered. There was another face in the mirror as well, the distinguished image of a man in his early thirties, with a dark beard and stern eyes. Not the most pleasant-looking person Tyke had ever seen, but a face the women would call charming, unlike his own.

Bewildered, he walked down the road to the little cottage by the turn to the main road, through a wrought iron gate and into a meticulously kept garden filled with roses of all colours. After knocking on the door, an elderly lady peered outside to see him, pushing her thick glasses further up her nose. "Oh, it's you Tyke! Come in, love."

The cottage was cosy and overstuffed with pictures and memories from a long life, and under the kitchen table an old Beagle waved its tail at him. He was invited to biscuits, and they had a long nice conversation about her grandchildren, gardens, roofing and carpentry. She gave him the telephone number of a local carpenter, and Tyke thanked her politely and stuffed the paper in his pocket, knowing only too well that he'd never have enough money to call the man. Then he went back to business.

"You haven't seen one of my friends, have you?" he asked. "I've sort of...lost him."

She snickered. "The same you lost last time? Bandy-legged character with long hair who could lose some weight?"

"Yeah, that's him."

She shook her head. "No, haven't seen anyone, and I've been sitting by the window all day with my crosswords." She gave him a sad smile when she saw his concerned frown. "Don't worry, love. People are lost and found all the time - he'll show up, you'll see."

Saying good-bye, Tyke made his way back, and in no time he entered his own kitchen again. Dung was still nowhere to be seen, but Pug sat by the kitchen table, drinking what was left of the coffee.

"Dung's gone," Tyke explained.

"Yeah, I noticed," Pug muttered sourly. "Didn't even take his foeglass with him. And who is that?" He tapped the forehead of the bearded man in the mirror with his finger. "I thought I knew everyone, or at least the ones worth knowing. Never saw that bloke before."

Tyke was going through the drawer for another can of instant coffee, but turned to his brother with a frown. "There's no coffee left. You really had to drink that last cup, didn't you; couldn't leave anything for me?"

"Who cares about coffee? Have a cup of tea instead."

"I don't drink tea, Pug, you know that! I'm a coffee-person. Damn you!"

"You just have to buy more, then! Keep your hairnet on!"

Suddenly, Tyke couldn't stand looking at him anymore. Picking up Dung's bag, he started stuffing the wizard's things inside. "I'm going in to London," he muttered. "Then you can sit here alone with your fucking teabags!"

Angry, he went outside and started up the car, but the feeling vanished immediately when he turned the car onto the road. He honked the horn when he saw the old lady outside in her garden. Stuffing his hand inside Dung's bag he picked out a random tape and put it into the cassette player, but was surprised to hear Welsh folk music. "What the hell...?" He tucked it away, and found some good Metal instead.

Shaking his head, he set the course for London.

****

No one opened when he knocked on Dung's door in Soho, so he drove off to the Cauldron and left his car in the same side alley he'd parked it just two nights ago. He took a cup of coffee in the Cauldron before finding a wizard kind enough to let him through to Diagon Alley.

The locals divided the two alleyways into the Alley and the Diagon. The Diagon was the place the Ministry liked to show foreign representatives, the perfect sample of the pulsating and lively wizarding Britain, rooted in ancient tradition while heading towards the future. The Alley, on the other hand, was never shown anyone - it was tucked away like the embarrassing and shameful secret it was.

As Tyke entered the Alley, he had to repress a shiver. He didn't like it in here; never had, and it was unfathomable to him why people chose to live here at all. The grey walls seemed to penetrate his mind, effectively drowning every cheery thought in a sea of gloom and filth. But then again, it was hardly his business to decide what people should do. As long as he didn't have to live here himself it mattered nothing to him, he was just glad he didn't have to go too far in.

Not far from the entrance to the Diagon there was a little shop; 'Pawn' the sign simply stated with humble letters, over three brass balls hanging. Tyke went inside and was greeted by a chubby woman with black hair and dimples in her cheeks. "Tyke, love!" she exclaimed and gave him a big hug that made him blush. "Finally you come and see me!"

Ten years ago, Dung had borrowed money from some gullible soul and together with his wife started his own little business, near the entrance to the Diagon. The shop had been relatively successful but the marriage had not - six months after the grand opening they had split up. When it became sadly apparent to everyone that Dung was no businessman, Kathleen had stepped in. She'd bought the place from him for a hundred Galleons and a pack of cigarettes, and was the sole reason the place still existed at all. She might have been a squib, but what she lacked in magic she made up for with old-fashioned common sense.

"Well, my idiot brother drank all the coffee in the house, so I thought I'd take the long way to the shop," he explained to her. "Dung stayed with us a couple of days, and now he's gone."

"So that's why he left Molly with me," she muttered and looked over to the fireplace where a fat ginger cat was sleeping in a basket. "'He never tells me anything these days. Don't worry, he does that sometimes."

"Yeah, I know. But he wasn't home, so I thought I just bring his things here."

Kathleen looked at the bag in surprise, then frowned slightly. "He never leaves his things."

"Yeah, I know, it's odd," he replied as she took the bag and placed it behind the counter. "When I woke up he was just...gone; no one's seen him, not even the neighbours. And then Pug acted like a twat, and I just had to get out." Tyke's voice trailed off.

She snickered. "I know, sweetie," she replied and winked at him. "Been married four times, you know."

"I haven't been married even once," he muttered with a sheepish grin on his face. "Compared to you I'm a big loser."

"Ah, don't say that! Hopefully you'll be able to keep the one you get, unlike me, who has to find a new one every other year." She snickered again. "Wanna cuppa?"

"Oh yes, please."

She was a coffee lover, just like Tyke. He took a deep breath, smelling the scent from the cup of steaming coffee in his hand, and he turned to her again. "Kathleen, you make the best coffee in this town. I've got a deal for you; if I'm not married by the time I'm forty-five, I'll marry you. Then none of us have to worry about that piece again. Or coffee, for that matter. All right?"

She laughed again. "But you're just a kid! I'm twenty years older than you and I'll be an old lady by then; sure you'd like that?" She was teasing him now, and it felt good.

He waved her argument away with his hand. "No problem. Twenty years from now I'll probably be so desperate that I won't even think about it." Then he realised what he had said, and turned to her with a concerned expression. "God, I'm sorry, didn't mean it like that! I don't know why I said that!"

She laughed when she saw his embarrassment. "No worries, sweetie. I survived four men - got to develop a thick skin, then."

"Yeah..." His voice trailed off as he turned to the shop, and for a while he just walked around with the cup, looking at the items displayed while sipping coffee.

Kathleen sat down in an armchair beside the counter and chipped her shoes off, and with a contented sigh placed her feet on a stool in front of her, wiggling her toes. "'What's on your mind?" she said, sending him a curious glance.

He finished his cup and walked back to fill it once more, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "You're a squib, right? And I'm a squib. What if we had children; would they be squibs or Muggles? What would they be?"

"They'd be very worried," she replied with a serious expression.

*

When Tyke arrived home he found his brother sitting in front of the television, making rude remarks to a group of politicians on the news. Tyke sighed and sat down on the steps outside to peal potatoes in the evening sun that now peered through the rainy clouds. Twit or not, someone had to feed the grumpy old bastard. Besides, he enjoyed sitting like this, taking in the peaceful scenery.

"Falangists!" Pug exclaimed angrily from the living room.

The robins had a nest in the willow by the hedge toward the ridge, and the male often came down to the front of the house looking for food. Now it tilted its little face and peered at Tyke with its beady black eyes, and he smiled back at it. Carefully, the tiny bird tiptoed towards him, closing in on a fat butterfly larva thriving on a bush next to the door. At the same time it kept an eye out for the cat, which was nowhere to be seen.

Tyke stopped the pealing for a while and followed the bird closely. Just as the robin was going to snatch the larva, there was a loud, "Friggin' right-wing fascists!" from the inside, and the robin spread its wings and flew back to the safety among the leaves.

"Pug?" Tyke called out.

"Yeah."

"Are you sure we are brothers? I wasn't adopted or something?"

Silence followed. "Not that I know of. Ask Mum."

"I already did," Tyke muttered gloomily to the potatoes. "She laughed at me..."

The bird obviously had no intention of returning and slowly he started peeling again, sending the larva an annoyed glare. The cat turned up with a mouse he'd caught, and proudly he put it down in the cauldron where Tyke kept the peeled and sliced potatoes.

"Aw, Sammy!" Tyke fished up the tiny vole by the tail and threw it out in the garden. "That's not very hygienic, you silly animal. People don't eat mice." The cat eyed him with a cold glare, and with his head held high he trotted in between the weeds to retrieve his mouse. Tyke looked at the cauldron for a moment, then shrugged and brought it inside. Five minutes later the cauldron boiled on the stove.

"What are you watching?" Leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets, Tyke tried to engage his brother in conversation.

"A film."

"I can see that. What film?"

"An American one."

Sighing, Tyke gave up. He closed the door behind him as he returned to the kitchen, where he sat down beside the table with his head in his hands and stared out of the window. "I got to get myself a girlfriend," he mumbled. "One who can keep me sane in this madhouse."

He had no clear image of what she should look like, just a pair of kind eyes that looked at him in that way, a warm embrace that he could hide in and never be forced to leave again. And preferably one who was tough enough to do what he couldn't; kick his brother out of the house. He closed his eyes for a while and drifted away in dreams. When he opened them again, he saw a man walking up the path to the house. A cloaked man - definitely not one of the local Muggles. This was a wizard

He got up and stared out the window at the man who approached slowly, almost unwillingly. He looked familiar, Tyke thought. He had to sit back in his chair when he caught a glimpse of the wizard's face. Frowning, the wizard looked towards the kitchen window and for a brief moment their eyes met. No point trying to pretend he wasn't at home, then. What was he doing here? With a quick glance towards the living room door, he got up and walked out to meet the man.

"Lupin! What a surprise!" That wasn't an exaggeration; to find a lycanthrope on Pommeroy property was unheard of - up to this moment.

"Hello. Is Mundungus here?" Lupin looked tired and worn, and his tone of voice was short and formal as he regarded the house with an unfriendly expression.

"No, he left this morning," Tyke replied, surprised. "He hasn't showed up?"

"If he had, would I have been here looking for him?"

"Probably not... Well, I've looked for him; I've even been to London. Took his things to the pawnshop to see if he was there, but no such luck."

Lupin seemed to ponder this. "Did he say anything about going somewhere in particular?"

"Nah. He had some business somewhere in London today, but I don't know what it was. Seemed awfully important, though. But..." He hesitated for a few seconds before adding, "I didn't talk much with him, you see, Pug did most of that."

"Yes, he is quite...verbal, your brother," Lupin's lip curled in a gesture of disapproval. "When did he leave?"

"As I said, I don't know... You really should talk with Pug, though." He scratched his nose as Lupin once more eyed the house. "Sorry about that."

Lupin sighed heavily, as if the task in front of him was one of inhuman proportions, and turned to Tyke with a determined look on his face. "Could you bring him out?"

Tyke nodded silently and slowly started to walk towards the living room. Pug was still staring at the screen in the corner of the living room, with one hand on his lap and the other around a bottle of beer. Raising an eyebrow, he glanced at his young brother. "What?"

"We've got a...visitor. He wants to see you."

With a moan of impatience Pug got up from the sofa. "Who is this berk?" he muttered. "Why can't people leave a poor sod in bloody peace...?" Through the kitchen window he saw Lupin's back and stopped dead, and shot an angry glare at Tyke, who just shrugged and kept his eyes on the floor. "What the...?"

"Hello, Lupin," Pug sneered as he got outside to stand on top of the stairs. Tyke slipped out to stand beside him, but took a few steps down, uncertain of whether Pug wanted his support or if he was just getting in the way. Probably the latter. "You're looking perky as usual..."

The wizard took his eyes off the scenery and turned to him with his mouth open to reply, but closed it and regarded the other man with an expression of contempt. "Good evening, Pommeroy," he retorted. "I believe one of my friends was located at this place last night. I'd like to have him back, if you don't mind."

"Ah, but you see, the bird has flown," Pug smirked, then his eyes went cold. "Like I should have any responsibility for that old hog. He split, and I suggest you do the same."

Lupin closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if he was praying the higher powers to give him strength. "Where did he split to?"

"I have no bloody idea. Who gives a toss anyway?" Pug walked back inside without even a nod in Lupin's direction, and the wizard stared after him, shaking his head. Tyke was so embarrassed that he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him.

"This won't do," Lupin muttered to himself as he crossed his arms and resumed looking at the cattle. Tyke simply stood put, uncertain of what was expected of him at this moment. Then Lupin turned to him with a frown. "I have to find Dung, it's important; at least I must know where he's located. Could you try to speak with your brother, see if he knows anything? Did anyone show up last night, did he hear any strange sounds? Anything, it might be vital."

Tyke was taken aback by the sincerity of Lupin's voice. "That important, eh? Well, I'll see what I can do. Will you be waiting, or do you come back tomorrow?"

"I'll wait," the wizard replied and nodded with an air of relief.

Tyke walked back up the stairs to the house with slow, reluctant steps, and took in the sight of the tiny pink roses on the rosebushes beneath the kitchen window. Sorry about throwing up on you last night, he thought. Just wanted to say that I find you pretty. Now say good bye to me, because Pug is going to kill me when I ask. The leaves on the rosebush shivered slightly in the breeze, accepting his apology and bowing its flowers to him.

Inside the kitchen he made two cups of coffee, one for himself and one for Pug. Carefully, he brought them into the living room and placed the steaming cup in front of the older man, before he sat down on the spindly chair beside him. The chair made a threatening sigh from his weight. He shot a quick glance at Pug; his eyes were dark and angry, and he stared at the screen without really seeing.

"You know..." Tyke started. "One has to wonder where he's gone off to. I mean, perhaps something happened? Warty's in his foeglass, after all. Perhaps the old bugger decided he was tired of him and wanted to give him a lesson or something...?"

"I told you, I don't know where he is," Pug answered sourly. "He was going back to London earlier tonight, and that's all I know. Has he left?"

"Lupin? No, not yet," Tyke admitted, but found out that this clearly was the wrong thing to say.

"So you're snooping for him now, are you?" He turned to Tyke with eyes that shot daggers. "What bloody side are you on, your brother's or the wolf's?"

"I'm not on anyone's side, I just want to find out what's going on!"

Pug measured him with a cold glare. "Blood traitor," he muttered.

Something inside Tyke snapped. "I had a reasonably good life here, you know, going to work in the mornings, enjoying my house at night. And then you came along, with your sour face and your acidic comments on everything I do. I'm fucking tired of it; if it's not to your liking I suggest you get the hell out of here." His voice trembled of badly suppressed anger as he got up. "I'm leaving now. When I come home tomorrow I expect you to be gone."

He began to walk out of the room, but when he heard Pug's snort of contempt he turned back again. "Twenty-four hours," he said with a low voice, and Pug gave him a confused look. "If you're not out of here by then, I'm calling the police. Or even worse, I'll call Mum."

The last thing he saw as the walked out of the living room was Pug's paling face. "You wouldn't dare!" Pug yelled after the retreating back of his brother. "You wouldn't friggin' dare!"

"Oh no? You just wait," Tyke mumbled to himself as he packed some clothes into his black leather bag. Where he would go he had no idea - in case Sykes didn't have room for him he could sleep in the car. Outside in the garden, Lupin was still waiting, and with a sting of guilt Tyke realised he'd forgotten about the werewolf.

"Did he say anything?" Lupin asked, and looked dejected when Tyke shook his head. "You're leaving?"

"Yeah, got to see Warty Harris," Tyke replied. "I have a feeling the old bugger can give us some answers."

Lupin gave him a curious glance. "Mind if I join you?"

Tyke hesitated for a second. "Not at all. I'm taking the car."

As Lupin quietly followed him toward the old Sierra, Tyke felt a strange emotion running through him. Startled, he realised it was anticipation. Anxious, unnerved excitement - he felt alive, like he was setting out on a big adventure, and it struck him how long it had been since he'd stood up for himself, since he'd put his foot down. He felt strangely guilty, but assumed it was necessary. He was twenty-five, about time he cut the cord and found his own path. For a second he contemplated dumping Lupin somewhere near London and just continue, driving the road to the very end, no matter where or what that end might be...

But of course he wouldn't. He had work tomorrow. Duty is, after all, the cornerstone of society.

"Warty was in Dung's foeglass," he explained to Lupin. The wizard's face was covered by darkness, only flashes of light from the passing lampposts illuminated his features and his hand as he rested his chin against his palm. Tyke could feel the warmth from the man beside him, and suddenly it occurred to him that he had, voluntarily, taken a werewolf into his car. He vividly remembered all the family stories, and a sweat broke out on his forehead.

"Though, if Warty's got an ace up his sleeve I'm really not the man you should be talking to; that's more up Pug's alley." He made an effort to make his voice sound casual.

"And not yours?" Lupin gave him a challenging look.

"I'm not my brother, Lupin," Tyke answered evasively. "I get up in the morning and go to work, and then I drive home, make dinner and watch Discovery Channel. I pay tax and go for a pint at the pub, and when I get too drunk I fall asleep. I'm a squib, and help elderly ladies over the busy street. In other words, I'm a disgrace to the family name."

Lupin looked out over the sunset without responding.

The silence made Tyke feel uncomfortable, and he did what he usually did in such circumstances; he started to babble. "I help out from time to time, but I'm just not very good at it, you see. I prefer my day job, actually. It's a good feeling to drive home tired in the evening, knowing someone has good use of me."

"And what do you do?" Lupin asked. It was just one of those polite attempts at conversation that people offer when they don't know what else to say, but Tyke grabbed the opportunity.

"I'm a janitor at a primary school in London, where... Why are you laughing?"

Lupin shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry, I'm tired." He started laughing again - he had a rather contagious laughter, Lupin, and against his will Tyke too started chuckling. "Who'd imagine the youngest son of the dreaded Olive Pommeroy, working with Muggle children."

"It's okay," Tyke smiled to the road. "Mum's always had a soft spot when it comes to me, you see. She's not that bad, really, you just got to take her for what she is."

Lupin made a vague sound and stared out through the side window. For a moment the atmosphere had been almost pleasant, but now it flickered and died like a burned-out torch.

They stopped at a petrol station to fill up the car. The car didn't need it, but Tyke did - a break from the silence between them in the compartment. As he went inside to pay, he also got himself a bottle of Coke that he swallowed in one gulp. When he saw the tired face of the man in the passenger seat through the window, he bought two more bottles. As he once more sat down in behind the wheel he handed one of them over to Lupin.

"Thanks," Lupin said, sounding surprised, and took a careful sip from the bottle. "So, you'll be staying in London, then? Where?"

"Thought I'd see if a mate of mine is home. If not I'll sleep in the car," Tyke replied, starting to regret buying the extra bottles. Why did the wizard look at him like that - like he'd just found something unexpected under a rock? "Not exactly luxurious, but all right enough. I actually lived in this car for two months, before Mum bought me the house." His fingers started to do a half-hearted dance against the leathered wheel as he began to tell a long-dwindled tale about his days in the different car parks of London, while the werewolf watched him thoughtfully.

When his tale had reached the car parks in Elephant and Castle, Lupin coughed. "If your friend isn't home, you could always kip on my sofa. I mean, if you really have to." He didn't look at Tyke when he said it, but kept his eyes on the Coke bottle before taking another sip.

What was this? Was he reaching out a hand in friendship, or was it just another cunning plan in the eternal fight between the families Lupin and Pommeroy? Tyke couldn't tell, so he sent him a smile he hoped was appropriately thankful. "I appreciate that, but I'm sure he'll be there."

"Let's hope so."

They soon reached London, and Lupin got off not too far away from Diagon Alley. "About this trip to Warty Harris," he said as he was exiting the car. "Would you mind if I joined you?"

"If you must," Tyke answered, tired of being on his guard all the time. "The Cauldron, tomorrow, four o'clock."

With a nod to Tyke, Lupin closed the car door and was gone. Tyke let out a long sigh and leaned his head back. "Damn it, Dung, where are you?" he muttered as he turned the car back on the road and sat course for Sykes Ogden's penthouse palace.

.