The second JIm sits down, Max is all over him, creeping under the table to sniff at his shoes and poke his nose at his legs. Frank doesn't bother trying to discourage him. It's hard to believe he used to be an attack dog, even when he remembers the way he defended him against Amos.

"How Slytherin of you," Frank says dryly, bringing his knitting back up so he can work while he apparently talks to this guy. Whatever. "What's the job?" It actually sounded like something he would have said a lifetime ago, it makes him wonder if Jim is a soldier.