"Good evening, Tom. Are you... planning to close up?"
A brown-haired middle-aged man glanced around the empty bar, his gaze settling on the owner wiping down the tables. He raised a hand in greeting.
"Not yet, but almost." Old Tom tossed aside his rag and complained gloomily, "Business has been terrible lately, and there's also a bunch of freeloaders eating and drinking for nothing. I'll go bankrupt sooner or later. What'll you have?"
"A glass of Firewhisky."
The middle-aged man took a seat at the bar.
"Only the cheapest stuff is left in my cellar."
Old Tom returned behind the counter and poured his old acquaintance a glass of the cheapest malt liquor. "This one's on the house."
"You're not seriously planning to shut down, are you?"
The middle-aged man stared at the free drink before him, deeply shocked by the state of The Leaky Cauldron.
"Probably soon." Old Tom shrugged. "Once I've sold off the last batch of liquor, I'm closing the place."
"Then what will happen to The Leaky Cauldron?"
A young red-haired man walked over, clearly astonished by Old Tom's decision.
"Nothing. Anyone who wants it can take it over. It's a money-losing business anyway." Old Tom looked up at the newcomer, seemingly recalling something, and blurted out, "A bottle of Bowell wine, right?"
"That's right. Looks like you still remember."
Percy took several Galleons from his pocket and placed them on the table.
"I've been saving it for you ever since you wrote to me last time. I'll go get it." Naturally, Old Tom had not let all the good liquor in the bar be squandered away. After the Death Eaters began eating and drinking without paying, he had quietly moved most of the expensive liquor from the cellar. Otherwise, if he let those Dark Wizards