"How are things on your end?"
"Same as always. What about you?"
"I've been very busy lately. The Death Eaters and the thugs working for them have been causing trouble all over England. The Muggle Liaison Committee has had to run around cleaning up their messes. Everyone's nearly been driven mad by them. I heard the Minister is considering giving anyone caught causing trouble a good whipping first."
Truman raised his glass and lightly clinked it against Cedric's. After finishing the Butterbeer in his cup, he looked up at Old Tom behind the bar. "Business at the pub doesn't seem to have been very good lately."
"There used to be some customers. Thanks to Minister Scrimgeour lately, there have been fewer and fewer people coming in." Tom gloomily polished the glass in his hand. Scrimgeour had thrown most of the wizards bold enough to come drinking at the pub into Azkaban.
"I'm considering whether to close this pub or find someone else to take it over."
"I doubt anyone would want it at a time like this." Truman shook his head. "Without some real ability, they'd be out of business in days."
"It can't be helped. The entire wizarding world is unsafe, and no one dares to wander around anymore." Cedric set down his glass and smiled at Truman. "All right, we should head back too. Try not to stay outside at night, or we might run into trouble."
"You're right. Safety comes first."
Truman took two silver Sickles from his pocket and placed them on the table, then left with Cedric.
The moment they stepped out of the pub, both of them Apparated away.
Watching their retreating figures, Old Tom muttered something under his breath.
Cedric and Truman did not go straight home. Instead, they appeared together in a