(1937-09-18) Tests
Details for Tests
Summary: Annie is tested to see if she measures up to the Moody standards.
Date: 09-18-1937
Location: Little Cosy Cottage, 7 Cottage Way, Hogsmeade
Related: Tim Meets Annie The Thaw

7 Cottage Way - Little Cosy Cottage (#1411R) Hogsmeade
Tue Sep 18, 1937 ((Tue Sep 18 14:27:36 2012)) (C,4 NW)

It is a summer day. The weather is warm and overcast.

At the southernmost end of Cottage Way, set back enough from the road to provide an ample front garden, is a smallish house constructed of sturdy stone. The grass is neatly manicured, a bed of flowers nestles up to the stone walls nearly all the way around the structure, and it's not unusual for some of the more mundane creatures of the forest to be seen frolicking about the peaceful space.
A sturdy wooden front door opens into a modest and unassuming living space. One large room sports a fireplace large enough to dominate nearly the entire west wall, easily heating the space in colder weather. Before it is a comfortable looking sofa, on either side are not as comfortable looking but clearly antique and matching chairs. A spindly wooden table looks to have it's work cut out for it supporting a rather cumbersome Wizarding Radio under one of the windows that flank the front door. The simple accoutrements of a kitchen occupy space to the back of the room; kitchen sink, counter, ice box, and a gas cooker. Glass doors of the cabinets show a modest assortment of china for dining. The dining table is also small, looking perfectly fitting for the space, the wood gleaming with polish and the chairs all tucked under tidily. The decorations are rather sparse, and consist mainly of pictures of family, several of which show the same faces of an adorable, elderly couple. A door in the south wall, to the side of the sink, lets out to the back and a vegetable garden, a window above the sink giving a view out. Doors in the east wall lead to the water closet and a bedroom. In all it's a bit spartan, but has a comfortable feel for most who enter.

Although the day has been overcast, there has been a bright bit of sunshine flitting around by the name of Annie. Typically a happy girl on any day, today has seen her overflowing with humor, warmth and helpfulness. She arrived to work at the library earlier than normal, and was mostly done with morning preparations by the time Klio came in. This gave them a little for some girl talk before work, and BOY did Annie have news to share. Klio got the whole story of Tim stopping by all but frozen to the core, the present (which was ooo'd and aaaah'd over) and…. the kiss. An honest to goodness, on purpose, full on two lipped kiss. With some good hearted teasing by Klio, Annie went through the day like a girl on a cloud. Home again, there is still a warm glow that isn't solely the work of the fireplace. With the wizarding wireless playing, Annie is at the sink, singing along and washing up the few dishes left from yesterday's tea with Tim.

Tim's arrival through the floo perhaps is drowned out by the wizarding wireless that's playing the rich crooning tones of Wolfgang Montague. But he arrives and is looking much more thawed and groomed, but the beard has stayed. Figuring he'll try it out for a bit. It does make him look much less boyish. He doesn't do much of anything besides getting entranced at how she moves and *ahem* jiggles so very pleasantly while doing the dishes and 'dancing' as she sings along to the radio. He leans back against the mantle and only clears his throat when out of the corner of his eye in the shadow box he sees his parents chastising him for ogling. So he lifts up a hand and gives one of those 'there's someone present here' cough-clearings of ones throat.

There's a bit of a clatter of dishes at the cough, and Annie turns suddenly in surprise at the noise. The surprise turns immediately to a smile of immeasurable pleasure, and it's all Annie can do to restrain herself from running over and enthusiastically fling herself at the man. But, one kiss does not make a commitment, so restrain herself she does. Still, her step is quick as she grabs a towel to dry her hands, and her bare feet pad her over to her whiskery ginger. "Tim. I never expected to see you today, what a nice surprise."

Tim's hand lifts up to give her cheek a little fond caress. "Dinae hear meh?" He grimaces a bit looking apologetic and sheepish. "Said Ah'd sssee yee anon…" He thumb points to the fireplace. "Shoulda spoken more clearly before the Floo took meh. It's just I had to force mehself ta go." He gives a wider smile, "Yeh ssshure lookin' as iffin yee 'ad a good day."

If Annie were a kitten she would be purring at the fond caress, but since she's just a young witch she tilts her head to accept the gentle touch. She reaches for his hand, taking it in her smaller one, and gives him a gentle tug toward the sofa. "You did leave rather quickly," she says, a light blush coloring her cheeks. Probably a good thing that he did, too, because kisses can be like potato crisps… hard to stop at just one. "I had a wonderful day. How was yours?"

Tim by the way he moistens his lips coupled with the way he watches her with those awe filled eyes, well it doesn't look like the desire for another 'potato crisp' has waned at all since yesterday. "V.very long." He chuckles through his 'joke' looking at her a bit pointedly. "Cuh.can Ah 'elp yee?" He looks towards the dishes and makes a gesture towards them too, but his fingers aren't gone for very long away from touching her soft warm cheek. "Hah-have yee hah-had suppah?"

She's been darting looks at his beard, but it takes a few minutes for Annie to reach up and touch it, letting her fingers smooth over the wirey red hair. The kitchen barely gets a glance as she answers, "Oh, I can finish them later." His touch is so soft and sweet, distracting and soothing at the same time. She turns her head into the touch, her hand drifting away from his beard to still his hand momentarily as she softly presses a kiss to his palm. Looking back to his eyes she smiles. "No, I just came home and decided to do the washing up before anything else."

Tim's breath hitches at the very open and initiated by her show of affection with the kiss to his palm. Green eye peek over to his parents who are remaining to chaperone and he tilts his head towards them. "Whe-well den, Ah've been reminded tha any lass o m.m.mine n.n.needs to g.g.go tru de Mm.Moody's Law." He grins playfully at that. By the sounds of it this Moody's law is much different then the law born in the future (1949), 'If anything can go wrong, it will'. He looks down at her bare feet and smiles wide, "G.g.g.get yer shoes on." Seems that kiss has done wonders for his confidence, and though he's stammering it more because he's anxious and nervous about the test he must put her through that any uncomfortableness around her.

"Alright," comes the simple answer. It's a testament to her trust in him that Annie doesn't question what this Moody's Law is, and she might be just the slightest bit thrown off by the words 'lass o' mine' that he utters. She slips off into the bedroom, returning with plain black maryjanes on her feet. The young witch walks right back up to her would-be suitor, curiosity in her bright eyes, but still not questioning him.

Tim is found placing the last dish on the rack to dry, having done a sneaky gentlemanly thing and done the dishes while she was getting her shoes on. He leans in to kiss her forehead. "Jacket, c.c.cold dere." He himself slides back into his wool trench coat that has enough differences in design to hint that it's really robes customized to resemble the muggle trench coat. Once he's buttoned up he offers his elbow to her. "Ready?" Seems like he's out to Side-Long Apparate with her.

Annie chides him gently, "Tim, you didn't have to. Thank you." As Tim puts his coat on, Annie takes her own up from a hook by the door, where it has hung all summer awaiting a chance to be of service. She shrugs it on easily, steps back over to him, and tucks her hand into his offered arm. The only sign of any trepidation she may feel at the unknown is a deep breath, but she looks trustingly up into his eyes and nods. "Aye, ready."

Tim makes sure he has a good hold on her before he closes his eyes and takes a slow deep breath. Obviously he's visualizing and concentrating on where they are going before *POP* and swirling down the pipes and spit out again feeling ensues. Then when the disorientation passes he slides his hand up to take her hand into his before leading them across a cobbled street to what looks like a pub. The building is something that resembles a Hobbit Hole and a sign swings from a curatain of chains, 'The Weeping Banshee' a bit oddly the 'Weeping' part of the sign looks more freshly painted then The Banshee. The sign carved like a screaming ghostly woman. "W.Welcome ta Ballycastle."

If Annie's grip started out firmly on Tim's arm, by the time they come to a stop she is positively clutching onto him for dear life. She wobbles slightly until her bearings settle back into place, but as Tim leads her across the cobbles she is once more looking around curiously, still locked onto his arm. There's a questioning note in her voice as she repeats, "Ballycastle?"

Tim smiles down at her and nods, he's nearly vibrating with excitement, "Ballycastle, Ireland. Wizarding Village. Where I was born, and ever Moody of my line before me." This is about as close to actually meeting the parents as he can truly get, taking her to the place where he was born and raised. "It's here a Moody brings a very special someone…" It really does sound like she's in for some sort of Irish initiation.

Annie looks around with renewed interest, knowing now that it's his hometown. She nearly misses the words, but then they register and she looks at him. "A very special someone?"

Tim smiles down at her and tenderly draws her closer before the entrance to the pub and he looks down at her and looks like he's most certainly coming down to kiss her again, "Aye, did I stutter?" He asks with a teasing chuckle to his voice. Then just as his lips are about to meet hers, right there on the street where anyone passing could spy on them does the tavern door swing open and once one patron spots Tim and calls out "Tim!" The whole tavern swells loudly with calling his name. He turns away from the kiss and sheepishly waves them off as he escorts her into the pub, "E'ryone, Annie. Annie, Doyle, Seamus, Fergal, Connor, Jimmy, Big James, Patrick…" He introduces her to every single person (most of whom are men) in the tavern. Doing this as he leads her to a booth in the corner that has many different pictures. Two faces she'd recognize as his parents. 'O' Murchadha' is carved into the table and he gestures for her to get comfortable.

If Annie were one prone to displays of temper, she would surely be spitting like a cat at this interruption when another kiss was…. so….. close…. But she is a girl of manners. And, despite the foiled kiss, she is there because she is special to Tim. That alone would make any wrong in her world seem inconsequential. And so she accompanies Tim into the boisterous pub, a ready smile for all the faces as she's quickly introduced and no hope in heaven of remembering all the names and faces on a first go. But she's game, and she slides into the booth that Tim leads them to after shrugging out of her coat.

Tim hangs her coat on the peg at the entrance of the booth. Then just as he's sitting down after hanging his up, a couple of trademark glasses of Guinness are set down before them. Though these dark stouts have a froth that is flaming harmlessly in green, an irish brand of firewhiskey has been added to the Guinness. The whole tavern toasts 'Slainte' and then it seems they've enough welcoming the prodigal son home so to speak and they turn about to continue with what they were doing. He lifts up his beer to toast it to her before he starts to gulp the entire thing down.

Annie eyes the concoction before her warily. She's had a run-in with firewhiskey, but it would be rude to not drink to the toast. And look at Tim, he just puts it down like it's nothing. So, ever game, Annie lifts her mug and takes a long gulp. Beads of sweat pop up on her forehead, but she looks to be handling it surprisingly well. Until she hiccups, and a puff of smoke comes out her nose. Her hand comes up and she blushes deep red, looking across at him sheepishly. "I don't really drink much," she says softly and apologetically.

Tim smiles and puts one hand on his chest the other raising up his right hand, "That's the one and only drink ye'll have. You did very well." Seems part of the initiation has been passed. The next round is soon on it's heels because as she's still reeling from the hearty drink a plate of food is put down before them both, black sausage and turnip mash. The scent that wafts from the plate is potent and gamey and rich with an irony scent from the congealed and boiled blood and oats in natural sausage casing. For Tim's part he tucks into it like this was exactly what he needed after a week in Tibet.

Annie is no stranger to black sausage entirely, though it's never been something she's actually sought out to eat. But as that's what's put before her, she gamely digs in. Perhaps not as enthusiastically as Tim, and most of her time while he packs it away is spent with eyes on him and more love for the turnips than the sausage. She gets about halfway through it before she has to concede defeat, but she won't just let it go to waste. "Tim, would you like to finish mine? I'm full."

Tim looks at her rather proudly and when she finally gives up the tavern erupts in lamenting noises and cheers in the mix. Money seems to be passing around hands and there's some bitter muttering and some gloating going on. But at their table he just smiles and slides her plate over to him. His free hand reaching to take hers in his while he finishes the last half of her meal.

At the outburst from the others in the pub, Annie blushes, but she looks around and meets some eyes. "There was wagering on it?" she asks Tim, loudly enough to be overheard by many if not all. "Cor, if I'd known that, I'd have eaten yours as well." Her hand gives his a warm squeeze, and Annie winks quickly at Tim in good humor.

Tim chuckles and only had taken a couple of bites, to her response to the betting he gladly slides the plate over. "Dinnae wish to stack the wagers." Or he would have told her. What's an initiation if the person knows all the rules. The tavern also cheers to her boast. They then all start to sing a song that has 'O' Murchadha' in it a lot, along with nearly all Irish Gaelic. So what the song is about exactly is hard to make out. Though they all seem to be in varying degrees of quality serenading Annie.

Without skipping a beat, Annie wrinkles her nose at Tim and sets back to her plate. She is no shrinking violet, and the devil to anyone who thinks she cannot stand up to a challenge. Between bites and glances around at the others, Annie asks across to Tim, "What's that they're singing?"

Tim looks towards the serenading and then back at her. "It's an old song dis pub has sung since it was openened by my great-a-thousand-times-grandfather. How pure bonnies from the world over, so lovely and fair and true, could be the perfect angel but if she couldn't drink the Moody Banshee without a wail of her own, and then enjoy a supper most foul with bravery, than a Moody she would never be." He lifts up his fork, "Don't think I'm moving fast. It's not a proposal. Yee will know if an' when I do tha. It's just a bawdy bar song."

His words bring a crimson blush to Annie's cheeks. She's only just gleaned onto the fact he might actually be keen on her. A proposal? That hadn't even entered her sometimes fanciful head. With absolutely no way to respond, Annie falls silent, steadfastly eating until the plate is empty.

When the last bite is eaten down the whole pub roars, 'O' Murchadha!!' Then they all go back to their own business. "Well ye past the tests." He says proudly and the hand tangled with hers gives a little urging tug to suggest he'd like her to slide closer to him. "Nae gonna lose it are yee? Me great-great-granda's bird got one swallow down and at the sight o the meal she lost it. She neva' lived tha down."

When Annie looks up to Tim, it is with a stubborn and no nonsense stare. She is a bit rankled by his words still, and her words come with a touch of fire that isn't from the drink. "I will not lose it, and let me tell you one thing, Timothy Moody. If and when you offer any kind of a proposal to me, you'd best not think I'll be throwing myself at your feet with gratitude." Perhaps there's a touch of Irish somewhere back in her family line?

Tim just gives her his boyish grin and one finger lifts up to trace the curve of her cheek. "Do I strike yee as an arrogant man Annie Taylor? If an' when I do propose, it'll be on one knee, at m'lady's feet, prayin' to the powers above that she'll do me the honor and pleasure of proudly calling her meh wife." As he talks he's looking into her eyes and his tones go very soft and tender as he starts to lean in towards her. Her fire is weathered like a man that respects it in a woman.

The fire dims in Annie's eyes, but does not go out completely. She is somewhat mollified by Tim's words, his tone, and the touch of his finger on her skin. Her eyes narrow as she looks at him, and she leans in until her nose is almost touching his. "You see that you do, Timothy Moody," she says softly.

Tim moves his head subtly so that his nose brushes light and soft as a feather against hers and the he slides one arm up behind the bench where she's sitting to wrap around her without actually wrapping around her. It's just a bit of a 'she's spoken for' body language. "Just see that yee don' break my heart when - if I do, Annie Taylor." His words are softly spoken over her lips before he kisses them softly.

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