The night deepened.
The moths tirelessly beat their wings without pause.
In a corner of the orchard, two figures sat side by side, each peeling apart plump orange segments. Chilled Pumpkin Juice sat on the table, giving off a cool white mist.
The newcomer seemed somewhat surprised, but he still shuffled over. "Hey! Albus, you're here!"
"Good evening, Ephieas," Dumbledore greeted him warmly.
Loren turned to look at the old wizard. His messy silver-white hair made him look like an aged dandelion puff, and atop his head sat a moth-eaten Turkish Hat.
He looked like a senior member of the Order of the Phoenix.
Ephieas spoke in a thin, breathless voice. "I ought to have a drink with you."
"I only have Pumpkin Juice. Is that all right?"
"It's not really suitable for an old man, but I know you like it, so this will do."
"Cheers, to a better world."
"To Voldemort's downfall."
The old wizard drank the chilled Pumpkin Juice and let out a satisfied sigh.
The old wizard shuffled away, the silver hair and Turkish Hat on his head swaying like a dandelion tuft in the wind.
Loren found the way they had clinked glasses rather interesting.
Perhaps the long decades had erased the sense of distance between them, or perhaps their long lives had made them entirely unconcerned with tedious formalities. They did not interact like a Legendary Wizard and a member of the Order of the Phoenix, but like two ordinary old men. They had run into each other at someone else's wedding banquet, shared an unremarkable drink, then said goodbye and turned to leave.
He simply wanted to have a drink with you. Nothing more.
Dumbledore handed his empty glass to a passing waiter and introduced him to Loren. "This is Ephieas Doge. Excluding