| Details for Rain Delay |
| Summary: | Old Hogwarts housemates Cyril and Veruca meet by chance. |
| Date: | 22 November 1937 |
| Location: | Leicester Square |
| Related: | None. |
| Characters |
  |
---—===================(\|/)==================---—
Leicester Square London
Thu Nov 22, 1937 ((Sun Nov 04 20:34:53 2012)) (E,3)
It is a fall morning. The weather is cool and drizzling.
With Leicester Square at its heart, this area is full of entertainment venues like Wyndham's Theatre. Many of the old theatres in the area have closed in recent years or been converted to cinemas, like The Empire, and the newly-opened Odeon, both actually in Leicester Square itself. In the middle of the square is a beautiful garden, with fountains and benches and a statue of William Shakespeare. As the area is a tourist attraction, a number of hotels have been built up around the square and the surrounding region as well.
Cyril is being his usual man-about-town self today. It's warmed up a little, but the rain is continuing to fall. He sits quietly under the canopy of a hotel's outdoor cafe, quietly sipping a cup of coffee as he flips through a newspaper laying on the table in front of him. Occassionally he'll look across the street at one of the theatres, but will return his eyes quickly to the paper.
The doorman pulls the hotel's door open, and a dark haired woman steps out, favoring him with a pleasant but reserved smile. She presses something into his hand, inclining her head at his thanks. Only a few steps take her to the edge of the canopy and she stops, looking out at the rain. Rain in London is hardly a surprise, but it is an inconvenience when you have no umbrella, and can't just use your magic. Veruca frowns lightly, tucking her purse under her arm, and absently pulling the collar of her coat a little tighter against the breeze.
Cyril keeps his golden-yellow eyes on the newspaper and speaks up, saying, "You seem at a loss as to what to do, my dear." His eyes stay down, only using his peripherals to watch the woman as he reads.
The voice draws Veruca's attention, and she turns enough to see it's owner. Since his attention remains on his paper, she cannot see his rather distinct eyes, or she might recognize him. Instead he gets a once over look, and a reserved reply. "Yes. Such is my reward for thinking the weather would last from night to the next morning." Since he appears still engrossed, she turns her own attention back to debating if she wants to try for a cab.
Cyril folds the paper up and sets it down on the table, those eyes finally looking up and resting on her features. There's something familiar about her, that's for sure. He 'hrmm's softly and says, "You could borrow mine if you like. In exchange for a favor."
Glancing back, perhaps about to deliver a scathing remark, Veruca notices the man's golden eyes. Almost immediately, something clicks, and she remembers where she has seen the man before. So, scathing turns into veiled interest. "And what favor might you require?"
Cyril stands up and straightens out the silken suit that's draped over him, moving to pull out a chair for her, saying, "I was thinking perhaps a nice cup of tea in exchange for an umbrella might be a fair trade."
If not for those eyes, she may not have recognised this man as a Malfoy, and certainly not the one she knew vaguely at Hogwarts. He seems to have filled out. Veruca lifts a brow curiously, light amusement settling in her dark eyes. "I suppose that sounds a fair trade," she says with a nod, her reply almost businesslike. Stepping over, she sits in the offered chair, setting her purse aside and smoothing her coat as she settles.
Cyril smiles warmly at her and moves to retake his seat, flagging down the waiter. He puts in an order for two cups of tea and returns his eyes to Veruca, saying, "I swear I know you from somewhere, though I imagine it must have been quite sometime ago."
Crossing her legs comfortably, Veruca debates letting the game go on, but ultimately decides to let the younger Malfoy off the hook. "I believe it may have been school," she says simply. Her hand is extended as she offers her name and perhaps a reminder. "Veruca Max."
Cyril smiles and takes the offered hand, giving it a gentle shake, as he's too far away to press the knuckles to his lips. "Veruca Max! That's right. I should be shot for forgetting such a lovely woman. I'm Cyril Malfoy, if you don't recall."
Veruca plays it typically close to the vest, giving a nod to his words. "Yes, I do believe we were a year or two apart." Her gaze on him turns into a closer scrutiny. "You were big on dueling, if I recall correctly? Or maybe that was someone else entirely." A slight lean forward has her reaching for her purse, opening it to pull out a silver cigarette case.
Cyril nods to her and says, "Aye, you are correct. I couldn't get enough of it, though I suppose that's the brutish man in me. Something about defeating another on the field of battle always intrigued me." He produces a lighter from his pocket as he sees her go for the cigarette case. He'll light up her cigarette for her and say, "So, where has fate landed you?"
Drawing out a cigarette, Veruca leans again, one hand coming up to steady the wizard's hand as the flame starts a red glow. When she's sure it's caught, she straightens again, letting her hand slide away from Cyril's as she sits back comfortably. The open case will be held out, an offering to him should he care for a smoke, before it is tucked away in her purse again. She blows the smoke away from him, and answers his question. "I've spent most of my time here in London. Working on my own, and then taking a position as an assistant." Her head tilts, eyes curious again, "And you, Cyril?"
Cyril plucks a cigarette from the case and places it between his lips, lighting it up quickly and tucking the golden lighter away in his pocket. He takes a drag and nods to her, saying, "An assistant? For who? If you don't mind my prying." To her question he responds, "I've been dabbling about in the Middle East since Hogwarts. Expeditions here and there. Treasure hunting, really."
Veruca watches his movements, noting the grace that he always had in his duels. As his lighter is put away, her eyes raise to his face. "I suppose, being an old housemate, I can allow a bit of prying," she allows, with a hint of humor in her words. "I took a position with Zephyr Macnair, of Macnair Manufacturing." News of what he's been doing sees a slight lift of her brows once more. "Treasure hunting?"
Cyril raises his eyebrows and says, "Cousin Zephyr? Oh, he always was the lucky one. Even more so now that he's got a lucky charm like you by his side." He smirks softly and takes another drag from his cigarette, flicking the ashes out in a tray in the middle of the table. He clears his throat and nods, "Yes. Treasure hunting. It's the only job that's managed to hold my attention."
A soft laugh comes from the dark haired witch, "Ah yes, it always seems to slip my mind, the family connection. And Zephyr and his wife have done quite well for themselves, no lucky charm necessary." Veruca's eyes turn thoughtful. "I would have thought Auror, with your penchant for the duel." Maybe she noticed. It was rather hard not to.
Cyril shrugs to her and says, "I know it sounds rather silly, but I couldn't bring myself to follow the same path that my sister took." He quirks his lips and takes a drag from his cigarette and exhaling it slowly, "Plus, gold has always excited me, so I figured I might go find some of my own."
Veruca nods, offering conversationally, "I've run into your Edwarlinda recently. As well as Cassius." Brows lift as she asks, "And did you find it?" She's traded in gold herself, with the goblins of Gringotts.
Cyril chuckles and thinks Did I find it? Of course I found it; I'm Cyril Malfoy. What he says is entirely different, though, "Mmm, I did indeed." He plucks a golden coin from his pocket and sets it down on the table, saying, "One of many."
For a moment, Veruca regards the coin, before she reaches out and lightly takes it in her hand. It's warm from being in the wizard's pocket, and she turns it in her fingers, while still deftly keeping it from the eyes of those around them. She stops short of biting it to judge it's veracity. She very precisely sets the coin back where Cyril had set it, dark eyes lifting back to his face. "I'll bet the goblins just adore you, Cyril."
Cyril smirks as the gold catches her interest. He nods to her and says, "It's genuine, I promise." He leans back and runs a hand back through his hair, saying, "Oh, they would if I let them have any." He chuckles softly.
Thoughtful eyes linger on Cyril as his hand smooths back his hair. "Normally, I would advise you to invest well. But in these uncertain times, I find myself more prone to suggest one take a wait and see attitude with their money. Until this muggle war gets straightened out, at any rate. Sitting on it is far better than investing and taking a loss eventually."
Cyril nods to her and says, "Most certainly. Plus, the Malfoy coffers are in no danger of running out any time soon." He leans back in the chair and looks up as the waiter finally arrives with their tea, apologizing profusely for the amount of time it took. Cyril raises an eyebrow to the man and his lips form a hard line, sending the waiter off quickly.
Veruca barely gives the waiter a glance, her regard remaining on Cyril until the man is gone. Then she looks away, reaching to pour from the pot they've been brought, along with two glasses and necessary accoutrements. Pureblood manners take sway, and his cup is poured first, then her own. Sugar is added, before Rue then looks back up to the Malfoy.
Cyril dips his head to the woman and says, "Thanks you kindly, Ms. Max. I do assume it's Ms., am I correct?" He takes the cup and sips quietly at it as she pours her own.
"Please, as I have freely taken liberty with familiarity, I'll not answer to anything short of Veruca." She did it without really thinking, falling into the habit of thinking of him in school terms, and not as a Mr. Malfoy. She lets her tea cool for a moment, finishing her cigarette. As they're in muggle territory, she squashes it out delicately in the ashtray, instead of flicking it to disappear. Her eyes come back up to his face, pleasant smile in place to regard him.
Cyril smiles at her and says, "Fair enough, Veruca. Though, please excuse me if I call you by your last name out of habit. I must break myself." He chuckles softly and says, "I'm rather enjoying this little run-in, if I'm honest. It's good to find someone I know."
For a moment, there's a slight gleam in Veruca's eyes, gone with a blink as she looks to her tea and takes it up. "I'll be happy to remind you." A sip is taken, the cup returned to it's saucer, and then she looks up again. "It is good to see you again and catch up."
Cyril smiles and nods, saying, "Indeed. Though, I must be running. I believe my movie's about to start. Unless of course you'd mind joining me. I wouldn't want to hold you from any previous engagements."
There is a slight hesitation before Veruca answers, and when she does it is with a regretful smile. "I shall let you go on your way this time, Cyril, but it's very kind of you to offer. Perhaps another time." This is tossed out politely, without guile or supposition that he might take her up on it.
Cyril smiles at her and pulls a quid out to cover the cost of the tea and his earlier coffee. He stands up and stretches slightly before buttoning his jacket and saying, "I would very much enjoy that, Veruca. Do have a wonderful day." With that, he's off to go watch some cheesy horror movie.mac