|
|
Post by superstition on Jun 6, 2009 11:35:25 GMT 1
 A jingle of his pocket, to make sure that there was money inside, and it was with this confident feeling that he left the Ministry building, right on time as he was dismissed for the week. Thank Salazar for the five day work week; and one simply couldn't be surprised by the choice of deity, for as a Slytherin he did have loyalty to his house and the illustrious creator of it. But back to topic - thank Salazar for five day work week. This meant, like any sensible person, that he would have the weekend free; something that he really wanted but hardly ever got, because he was always forced into overtime by his boss to do some extra work. But as an Unspeakable, he could never explain what was his exact nature of work, which was why during family gatherings, conversation usually went like this - "So Al, why were you late?" "Ah, work, actually. Sorry about that." "And that work was...?"
Naturally, the conversations didn't go really well, because he was always hard-pressed to answer, and his relatives always suspected he wasn't very interested in coming - well most of them, at least. Uncle Ron the most. Lily never blamed him for anything, so she was the exception. But Albus always did like going for family gatherings! It just didn't help that he really did have work to attend to, and as assistant to his head of Department, he really couldn't shirk his duty. Thankfully, he wasn't permanently excluded out of the family gatherings yet, despite his tardy attendance status.
Running a hand through his hair as he moved to the Apparation point, Albus gave a grin towards the lady at the Registration Counter, before turning and apparating in the direction of Diagon Alley. Today he wasn't expected anywhere, so dinner had to be settled himself, and outside. Albus wasn't the type who invested in domestic cooking - he was sort of a lazy prat. He had the training, because his mother had taught him in order to make up for the fact that James was allowed to go to Hogwarts before him, and he remembered the hours he spent in the kitchen, learning how to fry an egg to bake a cake. He could cook, but these skills were rusty, and most of the time he enjoyed eating out instead of his own food. There was something more pleasant about other's cooking; that, and he really didn't spend much time stocking up his fridge. If one opened it, it was proably miserably empty, save for a few bottles of Firewhiskey and Butterbeer he kept chilled. And some eggs, which were part of his daily breakfast.
Arriving with a pop that came part and parcel of Apparation, he dusted some imaginary lint off his coat, before running a hand through his brown hair, checking his appearance in one of the shop's windows, the reflection obvious and helpful to him. With a crooked grin, once he was sure he looked alright, he headed into The Leaky Cauldron, the place being his choice for his dining area. Giving a wave at some of the shopkeepers who remembered him since his childhood - they were still there, surprisingly, the Potter weaved his way through the crowd, settling on a table that was by the window, and waited for anyone to address him so as to take his order. He didn't want something to fill his stomach, his lunch having been rather filling and lasted until now. Rather, he was looking for something to drink. Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, his elbow was on the table, and he used his free hand to tap the table top, waiting for some sort of service. Silly boy, he'd probably wait forever, if he had to.
WORD COUNT: 636
TAG: Armand!
NOTES: Let's get a Potter drunk, yes no?
[/size][/font] |
|
|
|
Post by lo2 on Jun 8, 2009 20:55:03 GMT 1
Readjusting her top, Armand glanced hazily along the bar to make sure she wasn’t neglecting any of the punters before turning to pour herself a drink, pulling a small octagonal glass from the shelf and grabbing the bottle of spiced rum she’d been slowly polishing off since it was delivered just a few days before. The warm brown colour and the warm scent that streamed from the bottle when she unscrewed the lid were somehow comforting, reminding her of childhood days spent in France with her grandmother who would sit sipping from a tea cup full to brimming with rum but thinking that nobody would suspect her as she grew gradually less coherent. She smiled softly to herself, pouring just a little into her glass, turning back to face the bar before taking a drink, savouring the pleasant warming feeling as she swallowed.
She heard the door go, the old hinges creaking lazily as someone stepped inside, a slight breeze following them in. Glancing over she noted the man, dark haired and smartly dressed and she recognised him vaguely. She’d worked at The Leaky Cauldron long enough now to know the regulars well and to recognise most of the not so regulars. She watched as he crossed the room, settling himself by the window and looking expectant. He was a pleasant looking man and without any hint of arrogance in the way he held himself she decided, looking him over as she took another sip from her glass. He didn’t seem to realise that there was nobody to take his order, and she was the only person working and she couldn’t leave the bar unattended.
She chewed on her bottom lip, pushing strands of her white blonde hair back behind her ear as she moved to lean her bony elbows on the bar, glancing again around the room to make sure that there was nobody trying to catch her attention, in need of a beverage, but nobody was, all too busy talking and laughing together, their voices merry and a little louder that necessary. She wondered a moment if perhaps she should try and get the newcomers attention so as to beckon him over, try waving or even shouting across to him, but she was sure he would figure it out for himself, he'd have to. She swirled her rum in her glass, staring down at it, daydreaming… today was turning out to be such a long day.
WORD COUNT: 525
OUTFIT: here
TAG: Albus
NOTES: yes! |
|
|
|
Post by superstition on Jun 9, 2009 6:22:43 GMT 1
Green eyes traveling the place as he waited, he found it odd that he had been waiting for so long. Often enough, his needs were attended to quickly. Surveying the place as he made a quick count of the number of employees, he realized that there was but only one there, and she was busy manning the bar. A chuckle as he realised his foolishness, he supposed that he would just have to forgo a meal, and instead head straight into that drink that he had been desiring but moments before. Pulling at his tie as he loosened it slightly, Albus straightened himself out as he pushed his chair out, walking from his table towards the bar. Sliding into a seat that was empty - any one would do, given the number of choices that he had - he flashed a smile at Armand, hoping that it would cover the foolishness he felt for having sat there for so long.
"Pretty low on employees today, aren't we?"
[/color] he inquired with a curious look, but laced his fingers together as he rested them on the table top. He wasn't all that curious as to why there were hardly any people working, but he decided that could be well ignored. He was trained not to be such a nosy prat - well, he was supposed to be, but! - when it came to businesses that were out of his concern. And certainly, what the employees at The Leaky Cauldron did was certainly none of their business. Blinking once as he stared at the assortment of drinks, he decided that he'd go with the classic. "That being said, a Firewhiskey, if you will?"[/color] The art of raising an eyebrow perfected by Severus Snape himself, Albus had also mastered it, and it was with that same expression that he gave to Armand, the politeness in his voice startling but bearing great contrast to the words of the rest. While the rest carried themselves in an uncouth manner he was not fond of, Albus had been brought up with the need for manners; the extent of his foul language resided to bloody hell - for whatever else he knew of he did not like using. Tilting his head to one side as he observed the other while she worked, he couldn't deny that she was pretty. Blond, petite and rather confident - or was that fake confidence? - he found himself deciding that he would definitely like her. As long as she wasn't hurtful or snide, for he doubted that he really needed many more of such acquaintances in his life. With both Riddle sisters in his circle of 'friends', Albus would live with the amount of taunts he received from them, and would limit it to be only from them. Green eyes focused on her as she worked, he didn't find it awkward that he was staring. If asked why, he would just say that he was interested in how his drinks were being prepared, that's all. This was something he had never been able to learn, the art of being able to mix whiskeys and vodka together to form a perfect cocktail. It would serve as a perfect excuse, after all. After holding his silence for a while, he decided to make some conversation with her. Given that she looked as lonely as him - there were others, but they were only talking to themselves and their counterparts - he figured that perhaps she'd like to talk. "Miss... Edouard, was it? I've heard your name being mentioned once or twice when I was talking to another of your employees."[/color] His green eyes sparkled with delight at the thought of there actually being conversation between the two of them, although he kept it hidden by timing a closing of his eyes, exhaling briefly before opening his eyes and flashing that charming smile of his once again.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/font] |
|
