"I know what you're thinking," James said, glancing over at the bar. "But that's product you need to sell. This is a gift you get to drink." Thoughts about ledgers and profit versus loss margins floated through his head, and he shook them away. That's what they had accountants for. Actually, he wasn't sure if Sirius had an accountant. "Do you have an accountant for this place?"
James tossed back the rest of his glass, and poured another. He would have to moderate after this if he planned to go home tonight, but this was at least a two drink conversation. "For a smart man, your brother is kind of dumb. Does he know Dumbledore at all? That man tells us just slightly less than we need to know, and that's it." He grinned fondly; for all Albus Dumbledore was a manipulative and secretive old coot, James adored him and would always be loyal to him. "But that's good right? That he wasn't necessarily hiding from you?" Still didn't explain why Regulus hadn't sent an owl for the last six years, but James could let that go for now.