| Details for Surprise Punch |
| Summary: | It's a Hogsmeade weekend, and students flock to the Three Broomsticks. There is talk, there is dancing, there is Fabia's Fabulous Surprise Punch. |
| Date: | 1938-11-30 |
| Location: | The Three Broomsticks |
| Related: | Unholy Alliance |
| Characters |
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A rather annoyed Medusa is seated at a table nursing a drink of some sort that she let the wench behind the bar talk her into. It is revolting (at least to her palate) and rainbow coloured but she is refusing to give in and stop drinking it since she paid good money. Parsimony is not unheard of in the wealthy. The scowl on the Gorgon's face is keeping many a student away from her but not stopping some of the more brave from lobbing wise cracks from across the bar. "Where is Macmillan and his snake charming when you need him?" Or the ever popular, "Look at the face on her, maybe he hasn't let her pet his snake recently."
Scowls aside, Andromena isn't afraid. It's more that she's intimidated by the Gorgon's currently dark expression, but since she's dating a person like Alphard Pollux Black, she has some spine. Enough that she won't hide in the shadows while other kids see how far they can toe the line. Subconsciously straightening her posture and squaring away her shoulders, Andromena approaches the table that Medusa has transformed into her current domain. "May I sit?" She asks, indicating the spot across from the blonde.
Looking up as Andromena approaches Medusa nods at the question, "Of course." She shifts her fur coat from the chair so that Andromena can sit close to her. "I left Alphard speaking with Lucian," she tells the younger girl. It might just be a clue as to why she is in a bad temper.
Clue enough. Andromena gives a nod of understanding as she seats herself. Given what they had talked about just the other day, and that Medusa has dropped Lucian's name - a Slytherin prefect, Andromena had no trouble putting the pieces together. Part of her wanted to ask if Medusa had really thought it wise to leave the two of them alone, but she chose not to. "I'm guessing it wasn't as simple a matter to settle as I would have thought?" The matter, that is, between Edwards and Black.
"Nothing is ever simple with Lucian Proudmore." Medusa sips her drink, she is currently working through the orange layer of the rainbow coloured and differently flavoured drink. "I don't believe in using magic against people but sometimes…just sometimes I think might make an exception. Today he made me seriously consider making an exception." With a shake of her head she tells Andromena, "It was like being stuck in the middle of a pissing contest."
Andromena frowned as Medusa spoke. There was little that she knew of Lucian Proudmore on a personal level, but she was more than aware of he and Alphard's…mutual dislike. In any case, she needn't know much about others so long as she had a decent grasp on Alphard. Armed with that knowledge, it was a relatively simple matter to gauge the course of any one meeting he might have with another. Absently, Andromena eyed Medusa's drink, if only because of its outrageous colors. "Sometimes, even with all the right nudging or preparing you might do, things are just going to be…how they are. Still, was any sort of decision made?"
Thankfully after the distasteful orange layer comes a nice lemony yellow one. "True. Very true." Medusa props her chin on her upturned hand. "He said he would help Alphard, at least they were discussing it when I left. I didn't much fancy hanging around for him to have a go at me too. Lucian and I had a falling out over a week ago, but I hoped he would put that aside and focus on helping Alphard."
"I see," she replied, leaning back in her own seat. Alphard and her had not talked about any of it after his initial admission during the game of chess. Andromena was of the opinion that he was a big boy and could make his own decisions, and thus had not hounded him for any additional conversation. "I suppose if he agreed to helping, there's little chance he'll back out on that now." Unless Alphard did something to really make him irate. "What is that, anyway?" Asked as she gestured to her drink.
"Not usually no. Lucian sticks to his word when he gives it." It is one of his more admirable qualities. Medusa looks down at her drink. "It is called a rainbow delight according to the wench behind the bar. Different flavoured layers of liquer that are all different colours of the rainbow. Some sort of cocktail. The first layer, the red one, was…not to my liking. Nor the orange but this lemony one is quite nice. I am rather hoping the green one isn't the stuff we got pissed on in the Hogs Head a few weeks ago."
The drink was given a final look, as if judging it. "I'm not all that partial to sweet drinks," she told Medusa. There was just something about them that left her feeling borderline ill. Non-alcoholic beverages were, however, able to be rich and sweet with no problem to her. "On the bright side, if the green one does happen to be that same stuff, it looks like there's hardly enough to do any damage." This coming from the girl who probably had absolutely no tolerance for hard drinks.
Medusa laughs earing Andromena a few odd looks from others at nearby tables. They are used to seeing Medusa laugh at people, not with people. "Very true. I just have become tired of butterbeer. It is too sweet and sickly. I might try gingerbeer instead. A bit more zingy." She takes another sip of her drink. "The party seems to be coming along nicely. Something intimate so as not to be too overwhelming but suitably large enough to be a party people will come back to school and mention." Social hierarchy maintenance is complex.
"Have you ever tried any dark beers?" Andromena ventures. "I actually rather like those. Or…" Her lips gave a slight twitch. "I like the kind I tried anyway." Other beer tasted thin and sour by comparison, and sour was not part of her palette's repertoire. Talk of the party draws her attention back to the present, and Andromena gives a nod. She's not new to the social scheme, but neither can Andromena say she's an old hat at it - hardly not comparable to someone such as Medusa Malfoy. There was a benefit to be had here. "I'm glad it won't be swamped by everyone and their brother," she agrees. "Especially not a gaggle of kids."
The idea of a gaggle of kids inspires Medusa to pull a face. "Merlin's beard no. I get tired speaking to fifth years. Nobody under sixteen allowed." Which limits a lot of people. After she sips her drink and can report, "The green layer is apple," she shakes her head. "No, no dark beers. Beer isn't really something drunk in my family. Wine. Champagne. Sherry. Port. Whisky." The classier alcoholic beverages.
Andromena laughs. "Oh, a friend let me try some once," she tells Medusa, voice bordering what could be considered conspirational. That friend had encouraged her to try other drinks, too. Whiskey among them, and that had just earned her tears and a good deal of coughing. "I feel the same way," about the kids. She was generally good with them, though she knew not why, since she made a habit of ignoring them. "Apple, huh?" When the flavor was announced. Her crinkled nose seemed to say she wouldn't have liked it.
The pair are seated off to the side and Medusa has a rainbow coloured drink in front of her, only she has drunk her way through red, orange, yellow and is now on green so it is more half a rainbow. "I like apples, they're my favourite food. I especially like the tart green ones." Medusa sips more of the green layer in her drink and sets the glass back down on the table. "A friend who encourages you to try drink is a good friend, unless that drink is green aniseedy stuff from the Hog's Head."
Not in his kilt today, much to the chagrin of APPARENTLY EVERY WOMAN EVER who wants to check if he's traditional or not, Douglas ambles in the door, glances around and makes his way over to the pair of girls. He nudges Medusa with his hip as he eases into the booth. "Budge up."
"I like apples," she tells Medusa. "Just not apple-flavored liqueur." As Douglas arrives, non-kilted, Andromena greets him pleasantly, "Hey there, Douglas." Back to the blonde, Andromena continues. "My horizons were broadened, that's for sure." And she also now knew that she had an embarrassingly low threshold for the number of drinks she could have before things turned disastrous. Not that she intended to share that tidbit. "Oh, ew. Anise and licorice are not my favorite flavors."
Medusa does like Douglas in a kilt but she also likes Douglas in trousers or, if rumour is to believed, nothing at all. When he asks her to budge up and make room for him she does so readily, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Hello handsome." Andromena draws her attention again. "Horizions are for broadening. Whoever that friend was…you should keep them." She finishes off the green layer and tentatively sips the violet one, worried about just what liqueur might be violet coloured.
"What the fuck are you drinking?" Douglas asks, looking over the cocktail with horror. "What's wrong with a butterbeer? Or anything? What is that shit?" He leans back in his seat, stretching his arm out in best casually-stretching-and-oh-look-my-arm-is-around-you manner, then gives Andromena a nod. "I'm going to blame you, I hope you realise. Go on, give us a try?"
"B-blame me?" She titters. But oh, Medusa had that before she had even arrived! Still, Andromena isn't a total stick in the mud, and so she plays along. "I only suggested that sipping every flavor of the rainbow might be fun. Really, Douglas. Don't knock it 'til you try it." Said with an innocent look that slowly grew in smugness.
"Butterbeer is too sickly sometimes. I get tired of the over sweetness of it. I was thinking of having gingerbeer maybe or…I don't know just something different." Medusa can't get past the purple layer however. "It tastes like blackcurrant." Which as everyone knows are the most revolting fruits ever. She pushes the glass aside, it is ruined for her now. "What shall we have Andromena? Mrs Travers likely has interesting drinks."
"Let's see…" She tapped a finger to her lips in thought when Medusa suggested a new drink. "I'll go ask if they have any recommendations." With a nod of her head towards the bar, Andromena got to her feet. She hadn't much to go on from personal experience, but surely the good folks that worked here had a dearth of such knowledge that would serve her and her friends well. However, her approach to the counter was somewhat tentative. Andromena did not want to bother anyone if they were busy.
"I need help deciding on a drink," she announced. "Something exotic and fancy. Something to amaze the taste buds." Anything will do!
Alphard shook the cool November weather off his robes as he stepped into the Three Broomsticks. Initially he wore a pensive sort of expression, but the presence of Andromena heading towards the bar cleaved a bit of light through those clouds of deep thought. A tiny smile spread across his lips as he moved to intercept her, or at thevery least to slip in next to the girl there by the bar. Arm possessive in its encircling of her waist, and a little hip-bump joining in to herald his coming.
"Hey," he murmured against her ear, then looked over her shoulder to see what it was she was getting. "Ordered anything already?"
"Get us something too," Medusa says to Andromena as the girl slides out of the booth. She is done with that rainbow drink. While they are alone Medusa leans in to whisper to Douglas, her mouth teasing his ear a little.
There are a few sniggers over her change in demeanor and another seventh year calls out, "Looks like Malfoy has been tamed again," which only causes confusion. "I thought it was Rowle who cheered her up?"
The evening is insufficiently advanced for the landlady of this establishment to be blotto; in fact she took so long over dressing, in her eau de nil satin gown and bolero jacket over warm but untypically unsexy underpinnings, that she's had only the one martini and her hands couldn't be steadier as she leans sympathetically upon the counter behind the bar, inclining her head toward Andromena — and Alphard. Familiar faces, though she can't put names to them. Goodness, how many students there have been in and out.
"Heavens, if you'd like to be amazed… What was wrong with your friend's Rainbow whatsit?" Fabia asks, nodding towards Medusa. "Did she just find a layer she didn't like? She should have been more specific, the poor thing. Would you like something with layers, but fewer of them? Or — shall I surprise you?"
Andromena gives Alphard a delighted smile as his arm slips around her waist, making his presence known. A moment later and her own arm has wrapped itself about the middle of his back in a comfortable half-hug. "Not quite," she answers, gesturing to Fabia, who had just spoken. "I'm content to be surprised, but my friend did not find…purple, red, or orange to her liking in that last drink." To Alphard, "Get something for yourself?"
"I'll take the same surprise as her," Alphard told Fabia. "The whole table, I think, if you wouldn't mind." While he added to Andromena's order, he started pulling his dark winter robes off. They weren't standard school uniform ones, but rather bespoke of the Continental wizarding fashion of the season. One couldn't be a dapper young gentleman and fail to keep up with the times. Beneath it his outfit was a stylih three piece tweed suit, a mixture of country side elegance and wealth. He checked his pocket watch for th time."
"Purple, red, or orange," Fabia repeats, shaking her head. She can imagine what those must have been; and to be quite frank she shouldn't have cared much for them herself. They're not gin, are they? "A surprise, four times! It can certainly be done, sweetie." She nods to the young (but not too young) persons gathered round the bar; and turns to the array of bottles displayed behind the bar, rubbing her French-manicured paws together, seeking inspiration.
Several minutes layer a tray arrives at the table in question, borne by Tessa's hands, upon which repose four glasses of a liquid miracle.
The glasses are filled with a cider punch. A sweet sherry based drink laced with cider and garnished with slices of cucumber. There are hints of nutmeg and lemon in the undernotes of the punch.
Andromena gestures that Alphard should follow her back to the table where Medusa and Douglas are seated once Fabia begins concocting their drinks. Sliding into the booth, there's plenty of space for Alphard to seat himself comfortably beside her. "I told her what you hadn't liked," she tells Medusa, settling in. "So hopefully this one will be to your liking. Hm. To all of our liking, actually." And when it arrives Andromena takes a hesitant sip. The jury's not out yet, but since she doesn't make a repulsed face chances were she'd keep drinking it.
The four students are seated at a both, Medusa and Douglas, Alphard and Andromena. They had just been delivered a Fabia surprise, if only because Medusa had been nursing some strange multi-hued cocktail she favored not and Douglas poked fun at it. Now he can sip cider punch for his efforts.
Slips in the main doors, a mess of fey blond hair in various hues at the bottom and a smile that was as bright as the rosey hue on her cheeks for the evening's chill. Surely that's the reason her eyes are so..sharp. Or there'd been a wall of smoke. Or she'd been in an emotional state. Or she'd had a drink…or something. The reasons could be many. Varied. Either way, her coat's shaken out and then she brushes her trousers smooth and then, the chit makes her way on to the counter, paassing by the booth as she goes, with a smile and an upnod for the lot of them.
"How come nobody told me Black was supposed to be dueling tomorrow?" And who told her to begin with? "I'll be right back." As if she'd been invited to the table at all; and strode on towards the counter to get a drink for herself.
Douglas accepts his new drink, looking it over and sniffing it warily before taking a tentative sip. "This is… well, it's all right, actually," he decides, nodding. "Cheers, Black. Your health and all that shit." He leans back in his seat, giving Medusa a faint nod. "Maybe tomorrow?" he responds to whatever she'd whispered.
"Thank you." Medusa accepts her drink and salutes the two sixth years with the goblet before taking a tentative sip. Much like the other two she seems to like it even if the cucumber garnish seems odd. "Alphard, I really am sorry about Lucian being such an arse. I didn't think he would be nasty to you because he was angry with me over some perceived slight. I hope you got some help from him." When Jenny swans by and drops that bomb the seventh year shakes her head. "Sounds like Solomon has been gossiping with her mudblood friends again."
"We need some music," Alphard declared as he slid into place next to Andromena. He eyed the drinks as they arrived, a bit of scepticism visible in the curl of his lips. Then he shrugged and picked his up, taking a healthy sip in anticipation of grossness. This was what he had paid for? Because obviously Alphard had paid for their drinks. He always paid. It was a wonder he had any pocket chance left to buy Merwyn any goodies.
"You're right, it's not so bloody bad at all. Mhmm. We'll have to have a few more of them, eh?"
Genevieve's announcement was met with a slow owlish blink of surprise. "Bloody.." Who had told her?! Now the whole school was going to know.
"Don't worry about it, Medusa. I don't like him, but we made it work. I was more surprised by how he dealt with you, to be honest." He shrugged.
Andromena decided she liked the drink as well. It wasn't too sweet so as to be nauseating. She had just set the glass aside when Genevieve passed by. That she had so nonchalantly dropped what had previously been a reasonable secret was…almost not surprising. Leaning into Alphard's shoulder she murmured, "Well she did hang out with Julian last night, no?"
Douglas holds up his hand, counting on the fingers. "One. What the fuck did Captain Floppyknob do now, Malfoy, and do I need to go and have a quiet word. With my fist. And two, how come everyone and their dog knows about you and Edwards, Black? Should we have signs to cheer you on? maybe set up refreshments? Sell sodding tickets? It's supposed to be secret, isn't it?"
Coffee was what she ended up with in the end, with a hint of caramel and more creme than was strictly necessary. But she was cold and half of the cause for the order was to have something warm to curl her fingers around. She might have wore a shiteating grin too, the entire time she was there because she could only imagine the look on his face, but it'd have been smug to have turned around to watch it. Careless tact, that was key. The girl might have had a reason for everything she did, but to the outside observer, most of it seemed pretty empty and scattered. A pawn has the potiental to be anything, after all. Including nothing.
So the smug look was gone when she turned around after settling her bill, mug cradled in long fingers as she made her way back towards the group's table. Sitting at it would be entirely too presumptious, so instead she hooked her foot around a chair at the table nearest and hauled it over, creating an outer ring that was neither entirely seperate nor part of the whole. "It's kind of funny that," the word secret had reached her ears, "But I mean, when you've a private conversation in a hallway, in a school that's full of people, it's not…entirely private, is it?"
"Eavesdropping Solomon?" Medusa tuts and eyes the girl as she pulls a chair up to the open end of their booth. "How common." Because of course she never ever eavesdrops. She just gets people to do it for her. Lesser important people. Another sip of her drink and she is leaning in, whispering to Douglas and watching Genevieve as if somehow daring the sixth year to overhear what is being said now.
"It was supposed to be a secret, Macmillan. Obviously Edwards has a different opinion of what that word means." Alphard sighed, then took another swallow from his drink, a healthy one rather than just a surface sip. "Really, though, think we could impress upon the establishment to supply us with a bit of music? Some entertainment? I want to.. let loose a little. Dance, shake my bloody behind, have some fun!"
He looked to Genevieve. "So Edwards told you, or one of his friends? Anyway, I would be grateful if you would not spread it any further. All it takes is someone saying the wrong thing in the wrong ear, and there's a prefect come running over to squeal to the Faculty. And all the fun we' ve planned, gone in a heart beat."
"So put it off a week, or something," Douglas suggests, taking another sip of his drink, tongue running over his lips as he considers the slightly unusual taste. "Or go for midnight in the boathouse. It's usually pretty empty. Um. Allegedly."
Andromena thinks the words 'shake my bloody behind' coming out of the mouth of Alphar Pollux Black is a tad bit strange, but doesn't intend to comment on it. Sometimes, a man just wants to dance. So she swallows the thought with a drink of her punch, glancing toward Medusa as she whispers in Douglas' ear as she does so.
"I'm sure we can get some music going, maybe…" Andromena looks around, but fails to see Fabia. She had hoped that the older woman would be kind enough to carry out Alphard's wishes. It looked instead as if she would have to find assistance elsewhere.
"Allegedly," Andromena echoes after Douglas. The thought has merit. "The problem is, Julian is unlikely to budge. He's the one that called the time, was he not? He won't let Alphard change anything because it makes it look as if Alphard can call all of the shots." One needn't know either boy that well to understand how that would be undesirable.
"Now Malfoy, it's not my fault that I've such a winning personality that people just want to open up to me." Jenny's eyes were merry, her grin was cheeky and when Medusa set to watching her like that, while whispering? Well, Jenny winked and blew her a kiss before her attention settled on her drink and she took a long swallow.
"Music, would be wonderful. It's nice to see some life in you Black, but worry not, if I told everything I knew, about everyone I knew it on eventually people'd stop telling me things at all and yet, for some reason, people tell me things anyway. Think it could be something to do with be telling enough of the useless stuff that no one ever thinks I could possibly know the big things? Your secret is safe with me. Though it took some fanagling to get to begin with. And anyway, I don't intend on going. I skirt the edge enough as is. If I'm going to get in trouble for something, it's going to be because it was something I wanted and not someone else's drama."
Jenny paused, reaching up to scratch at her chin, "But it's kind of funny, in a way, how someone with such mingled views on blood has picked a decidedly non-muggle thing to push them. Why, the right person could probably twist that into such a light that it could be damaging to the petition that he's working on if work reached the right ears. Unity Protesters moved to violence against an innocent collection of Purists. Sounds like a catchy front page line."
"What did you say earlier about hearing things in an open hallway? We are in a sodding pub, Solomon. One full of students who'd love to tattle if it got them something." Medusa shakes her head and sips more of her drink. "We can go see if we can find that record player she had in here before." The Malfoy girl nudges Douglas, "Budge so we can get out and see if there is some music to be had. Alphard fancies showing Andromena his fancy dance moves."
Douglas grumbles as he shifts out of the way, taking his drink with him. "Where's Rashley and her fiddle when you need her, eh? Anyone play the piano?"
Music, like other art forms, is beyond Andromena. She might wish otherwise, but reality laughed in the face of those desires. Here's to hoping Medusa could find that record player. Genevieve is given a thoughtful glance for her input. A rather devious thing to do, though at present only she and Douglas aren't Slytherin, so perhaps it was not altogether a shock.
"Maybe if there's no record player we could ask if any other patrons are musically inclined." Because sure, all these people would just line up to entertain some snobby rich kid outta Hogwarts.
"You are such a happy, happy girl, aren't you?" Jenny inquired of Medusa, rising up to her feet. And the crowd was so delightfully inviting; a long swallow of the coffee saw it gone. "But I know, I know, I'm too loud, too chatty, too annoying, too most likely not to finish school, too dabbling with mudbloods and purebloods and purplebloods and greenbloods and leaving. Miss Rowle," the girl inclined her head with the offering of an easy smile. "Mister Black," to whom she granted the same.
"Good luck on finding your music!" The final well-wish offered the group, as she began making her way towards the door; the same pep in her step as when she'd first arrived.
Genevieve naturally left the mug behind on an empty table, of course. A thief she is not.
"Inordinately so," Medusa confirms to Jenny. Once they are on their feet Medusa heads off with Douglas, presumably to search for the said record player. "You just keep calling it a fiddle to annoy her don't you?" They take a detour by the bar where Medusa asks Tessa if she can play some music, even going so far as to point out Alphard and say he'll tip better for it. But she doesn't make her way back just yet, instead her poor long-suffering boyfriend ends up pulled into a little alcove for a few minutes first.
Douglas squints over as Genevieve heads off, raising a brow at Medusa. "Who the fuck's that? One of yours?" He shrugs, taking another long drink from his glass, then erking as he's dragged into the alcove. "What?" he demands, rolling his eyes, before he's silenced for a few moments. "Oh," comes his voice, ten or fifteen seconds later, sounding quite pleased with himself. "That."
Alphard followed the by-play between Genevieve and Medusa, in the end just shrugging. "See you, Miss Solomon." The switch from the usual 'Jenny' came with a crooked smile. If she wanted formality then he was always happy to oblige. Even if they were housemates and team mates and friends. He waggled his fingers after her in a distinctly upperclass 'ta-ta'.
"Right," he said, turning back to Andromena. "So, I need another one of these." Because his drink was all but gone in a single backwards toss of his head. Down the length of his nose he eyed hers, too. Encouraging her to finish up so he could order another round.
"Au revoir," Andromena said with a dainty waggle of her fingers as Jenny dismissed herself. Attention captured by Alphard, she shifts her gaze towards her glass…which was still a little over half full. Her eyes find him again. Yes, he's wearing the same expectant expression. With nothing to do but…do it, Andromena brings the punch to her lips and drains the glass. Only because it's just her and Alphard currently, so no one else need see the act of what was, in her estimation, belonging to a shameless boozehound.
Glass emptied, Andromena pushes it away. "Ready," she tells Alphard. Or maybe the end of it is lilted up in such a way it's almost a question. In any event, she waits for Alphard to get up so that she may follow.
Medusa's hair is even more tousled when they return to the booth than it was before. As she sits down the first strains of music begin, it isn't the Muggle music that got the local's knickers in a twist but something popular off of WWN's current top twenty. "That girl is annoying. What is it with blood traitors this year? I swear if another sixth year girl chases after another half-blood or mudblood I am going to start cutting people's hair in their sleep."
"Just girls, though, right?" Douglas confirms, running a hand through his own hair as he struts back to the table. "And sixth years. So seventh year boys can chase mudbloods all they like, right? I mean, obviously as long as they're…" He gestures in front of his chest, nodding knowingly.
As soon as Andromena finished her drink; which he watched with a grin, Alphard ordered another round of the same cider punch that they'd gotten the first time around.
"Eh, Solomon isn't a blood traitor. She's just.." he searched for the right word. "Impulsive. Should hear her talk about Muggles sometimes." Sticking up for his fellow Quidditch player, was Alphard. "She's alright most of the time, as long as you don't tell her anything important, or expect her to pay attention for more than two seconds. Besides, Medusa," he gave the older girl a critical look. "What were you up to last year? Perhapse it's a phase Sixth Year Slytherin girls just have to go through. Larking about."
"There is such a thing as too much…" Andromena mimes Douglas. "For example, take that one Hufflepuff girl. Hers are so big I don't think she can reasonably hold her arms down properly at her sides." Of course, the girl in question was also rather fat. Her argument still stood! As for Alphard's argument regarding Solomon, Andromena had little to say. She knew not the other Slytherin very well, though she did find her ability to string together so many words to be…interesting.
Before long, their second round of drinks would be brought to the table. Andromena told herself she wouldn't nurse this one quite so slowly, if only to avoid having to gulp down anything more.
"The seventh year Slytherin boys know better," says Medusa. She nods her thanks to Alphard for the new drink and sips from it before telling Douglas, "And if you mean you will go after some mudblood or half-blood I don't think so. We won't be talking about hair then." She flashes her boyfriend a sweet saccharine smile. When Alphard comes to the defence of Genevieve Medusa just shrugs, happy to let it go - that is until he brings up her own actions last year. Her brows draw in as she narrows her gaze upon her fellow Slytherin. "I," she stresses the word, "did not try to date someone beneath me. Nor would I ever." No, she just agreed to join the Mud Club along with some people who are no longer her friends. Andromena's mention of the infamous sideboob of Whalesong has Medusa looking down at her own chest in comparison.
Douglas winces at the implied threat, turning a little away from Medusa just in case she gets any funny ideas. "Oh come on, Solomon's like Beatrice only without the charm," he points out, shrugging. "She tries it on with everyone. Mind, she hasn't tried getting the Beast to punch people for snogs yet. Maybe that'll be next year." He leans in against Medusa, likewise glancing downwards with a cheerful smile. "And anyway, I never said it had to be massive knockers. Just… pert ones. Ones you want to bury your face in, you know what I mean, right, Black?"
It wasn't his fault if Medusa going straight from looking at him, to looking at her chest, just happened to draw Alphard's gaze along with the ride. After a second he stowed his attentions somewhere safer; down into his glass as he took a sip. "Meanie is right, though. There's definetly something as too much. It's like the Americans, always with their 'more, more more', when what really matters is class and elegance. Nice proportions." He looked to Douglas, rolling his eyes. "If I did, I wouldn't be saying it aloud. Besides, I still can't get over your infatuation with those Muggle girls on the boards."
Like yawning, when one girl looks towards her breasts, another must do so also. Because of this self examination, Andromena totally missed Alphard as his own eyes strayed towards Medusa. Once the Ravenclaw finished reminding herself that yes, she really was satisfied with her…proportions, she hurriedly looked back up.
"It's not his Douglas' fault if he can't help but look," she interjected. "It's the whole point of those types of things, to draw people in. I read about it once." Andromena would venture to call it magic, except that it was a muggle invention and that would be just silly.
"If I agree that she is like Bea I feel like I am doing a diservice to my kin." Medusa snorts a laugh when she catches both boys looking, not that she isn't used to Douglas' attentions upon her anatomy but Alphard's is a rarer happenstance. "I don't find them interesting but I have been told by a reliable source that I don't know what I'm missing." She sips her drink and leans in against Douglas, both of them having to prop up the other. "So what did happen with Lucian?" The question is asked lowly so as not to be over heard.
"I just like boobs," Douglas admits to Alphard happily, shrugging his free shoulder. "Ugh… Lucian is an utter arse. Seriously, he's just a twat."
"You got the worst of it. Once you left we worked out a plan. Then.." He shrugged, his expression twisted in a grimace of dislike and doubt. "He asked if we couldn't bury the hatchet. This time he sounded fairly sincere, unlike the last time he tried to apologize. So I accepted it, under the stipulation that we still dont like each other. We're 'good', whatever that means. As long as he keeps his sanctimonious shit down, I guess it's a truce."
Idly he draping one of his arms over the curve of Andromena's shoulders. A bit of casual intimacy.
Andromena wants to ask just what had been decided between the two boys over the duel. Was it happening, was it not? However, she decides that maybe now isn't the best time to bring it up, given where they are. Alphard could tell her on his own time. She did bother to say, "That's good at least," when it came to the truce put in place between Black and Proudmore. The less people that were against you was always a boon. That was how she saw it, anyway.
"Douglas is right, he is an arse." Medusa sets her drink down and reaches for her coat. "Even so I am glad he has agreed to help you." She wriggles past Douglas, enjoying herself imensely as it allows her to be annoying and to wriggle across his lap briefly. "I have some errands to run. I will catch up with everyone later." A glance at her watch tells her she needs to hurry so Douglas only receives a peck on the cheek before she is heading towards the door.
Lara wanders into the inn. She pauses just inside the doorway to slip a cloth off of her hair and brush the damp off of her robes while letting her vision adjust. Only after she is presentable again does she start to look around for a place to sit and socialize.
"Time to dance. Up you go, Meanie!" Alphard grinned as he scooped up his drink, making sure to lower the amount swilling about in the glass so it was safe to bring with him. Medusa had gotten a casual wave farwell; he expected her to return sooner or later for dance-until-curfew funtimes. "You up for it, Douglas? Cmon. We'll do a line! This song is bloody brilliant." It was a sign of the times that he had forgotten to use the Gryffindor's last name.
Alphard, Douglas and Andromena were seated at a table, with drinks infront of them; some filled and a lot of empty ones. There was music in the pub for once, encouraged by the students. Not the Muggle tunes that got locals up in arms, but rather wizarding songs off the WWN's top twenty.
Douglas watches Medusa leave, a daft smile on his face as he's clearly somewhere entirely different for a moment, until he shakes his head and drags himself back to reality, taking another sip from his drink. "Hm? Dancing? Och, y'know me, man. I'm always up for a laugh. I don't know this one, though. Is it new?"
Andromena did not bother to bring her drink along. She had been keeping pace just enough that she could take a couple more sips and it was gone. That aside, Andromena got to her feet, saying her farewells to Medusa before adopting a crooked grin at Alphard's inclusion of Douglas to dance. Usually she wouldn't want to be involved in something so…social, but what the hell?
"You don't have to know it," she tells Douglas. "You can just follow after Alphard and I." Her head canted to the side as she gave the song a better listen. It was known to her, if only because the Ravenclaws were uniquely blessed with a Wizarding Wireless in their Common Room. Not that she was boasting such a fact.
Lara makes her way over to one of the more comfortable seats, giving anyone who looks her direction a smiling nod of the head. She settles in to watch people and listen to the music.
"What, are we supposed to have to know the song to actually dance to it?" Alphard asked with a grin. So he led the way out from their table, hand slipping down from around Andromena's neck to catch her palm instead in his. He moved to the closest semi-open space where you'd have some room to dance, while his drink was held high infront of him. He started a bit of a shuffle. A slide. A smooth little slow-spin that brought him circling around under Andromena's slender arm. With the help of alcohol and lowered shoulders, he was getting into the mood of it. "Bah, we'll just make up as we go." His eyes found Lara on the way, eying her up consideringly. "Look, it's your friend, Meanie."
"I was just saying is all," Douglas defends himself amiably, stretching his arms over his head before glancing around, and offering a hand to Lara. "May I have the pleasure, ma'am?" he decides, flashing her his best, most charming smile. "What's a dance without a pretty girl to dance it with. It's like you were sent to me by fortune."
Andromena found that sometimes it was more fun to do just as Alphard suggested. Better to look like you had some idea what you were doing as opposed to woodenly attempting to mimic the correct steps. She could appreciate the confidence with which one just tossed cares to the wind and did their own thing, especially on the dance floor where the potential for horrible shame and embarrassment could arise!
Laughing as Alphard shuffled under her arm, Andromena nevertheless found her gaze directed by Black's own as he spoke of Lara Stuart. That they were friends was a bit of a stretch, since she did not really know her very well yet, but Andromena wasn't about to argue it with Alphard, most especially when he seemed to be in such a good mood. "Unh," she acknowledged, the sound coming from the back of her throat.
"Remember: flowery prose, Douglas," she teased as the older boy asked Lara to joined him. "It's what I recite to my Al- Adonis here." She did no such thing, but that's why it was fun.
"You really should join, Lara," Andromena says by way of greeting.
Lara does a quick check of her shoes before extending a hand in return. "Oh, I don't know about fortune, but I did finish studying for the moment. Perhaps we'll blame my being here on the need to clear my head before I dive into the next subject." Her eyes twinkle as she rises gracefully to her feet. "I even took a moment to check to see if my shoes had been buttered, if you'll notice. Hopefully there will be no falls, trips or spills tonight." She smiles warmly at the other pair. "You two are certainly to be admired tonight. Now, hopefully I'll dance at least as well." She grins at Douglas again, ready to follow his lead.
"I'd try flowery prose, but I lose all good sense when I'm faced with a pretty woman," Douglas admits cheerfully, flashing Lara a grin as he leads her to a clear space on the floor. "I suppose I could try… uh… if I said you had a good body, would you hold it against me?"
"Douglas.. you're a lost bloody cause," Alphard said. He tipped the last of his drink down, then left it at a nearby table. The cozy warmth of intoxication was slowly spreading out through his body. Wearing one of his more charming smiles; it did wonders for him not to look down his nose at everybody, he tugged the Ravenclaw close. Gave her a quick little smooch on the lips, before he spun her around. The music on the radio was a good ten years behind Muggle fashion, but quick enough to dance to. Alphard gave it his best, going all out with abandon. Good dancer? Perhaps not! But he was enthusiastic!
Smooch received. It tasted like the punch, but that was okay! Andromena had met her limit for the night, but it had left her warm and decidedly more open. Any other time and the Ravenclaw would have needed to work up a good deal more courage - and not just to dance! She had bantered as the evening progressed, rather than just clam up and listen to the others talk around her. Andromena couldn't care less if Alphard wasn't the best answer, and not simply because of his status as boyfriend! He was having fun, and that led her to have just as much fun. No self-conscious worrying to be had this evening.
Lara dances lightly with Douglas as she gives him an amused look. "I'll hold it against you all right. Sadly, it won't be the fun method." For all the primness of her words, her tone conveys amusement at him. "Perhaps I should help you to unlock your potential? Shall we begin with - 'My, but you dance divinely. Your every move is among the smoothest, making me a delighted man. May I say, you have the most beautiful eyes. They've more sparkle than a room full of diamonds in the sunlight." Each phrase is stated in an exaggeratedly posh manner, clearly meant to imitate the most high in the Ton.
Douglas grins broadly as he moves into a dance. "Well… I could say that, sure. Or I could just shut up and dance, and hope you don't realise how hopeless I am. Sparkling like a room full of diamonds, though… I might save that one up."
Alphard spun Andromena around and around again, amusing himself with the way it made her hair and skirts fly up. Mostly the latter. What was the use of dating someone with pretty legs if they were always hidden away? Besides, by making her do most of the moving, he could just shuffle a little on his hips and look cool. Like the dapper young gentleman that he was. If he only also had some smokes.. and something more to drink. Then he would be just like those elgeant men always used in the adverts in the Daily Prophet. Looking thoughtful into the distance.
The last song puttered away, replaced with something Southern European inspired. Or perhaps from the Americas Latin rythms! A bit behind the Muggle world, of course, as it was wizard music from the WWN's top twenty. Alphard struck mock bullfighter poise. Ta-da! Heelstomp included!
Behind the bar — after another absence to put her feet up — Fabia Fairfax applauds, delightedly, Alphard's efforts upon the dance-floor. She it was who made the dance-floor, several weeks past, by installing the piano and shifting the tables nearest it to create a place for any Terpsichorean efforts her clientele were inclined to make. She has long since finished her glass of the same punch she made at Andromena's request, for her and her friends; she is in the midst of another martini, and feeling distinctly jolly about it.
When Andromena happens to pass into Douglas' view next, she is unable to keep herself from mouthing what looked to be, 'You were right,' as her eyes dart pointedly to his dance partner. There was no way she could imitate the crass girl he had so eloquently emulated the other day, but she sort of wished that she could, if only for her own personal amusement. Still, there was a giggled, "Don't spill the chips."
Alphard's heelstomp was quite picturesque, nay, memorable. He even wore this serious expression as the sole of his shoe clapped down upon the floor. Her reward for all the showing off of her legs…although Andromena would not be so against that if he were to ever share that fact. The more poignant question in her mind was: what was the point in having shapely anything if it never had a chance to be put on display? Within reason, of course.
Since she wasn't a bull to be baited, the only option left to Andromena was to assume the facade of some sultry Latin lass. She put on a faux expression of deep concentration as she looked to Alphard, using her hands to flail out her skirt as if it were one of those longer, more stylized pieces meant for such a thing.
Lara chuckles in amusement. "Did you know that there are classes they make you take for what to say during dances? I'm afraid the list is awfully trite and banal. No politics, no religious talk, no talking about those above you in rank, nothing about what the servants have to say - actually, nothing in particular that means a thing of any importance. You may discuss the weather, the time, the season, what your favorite colors are, and things simply as amazingly attention grabbing as all of that. Plus, of course, compliments to your partner." She grins yet again. "I'm more than thankful that I was able to come to school and have real discussions." She does her best to give Fabia a wink on one of her turns. "Feel free to babble on about teachers if you can think of nothing else to say - the ones you like or the ones you don't. Or, just retreat into a manly silence if you must."
For as long as he could, Alphard tried to keep his expression as serious as possible. He matched Andromena's sultriness with manly sternness, stepping towards her, stepping away, stepping towards her. Taking her in his arms and turning her around, always doing his best to keep their eyes locked. Smoldering latin intensity errupt! It could only be done for so long. It snuck up on him, the laughter, starting with a few twitches of his lips and then errupting in a bent-double full on earthquake that had the whole of him shaking with mirth. "Meanie.. that was.. you're.. hahaHAHahah.." Having to steady himself, he withdrew to the closest chair and then collapsed. A wave went for whatever wench was nearest, so he could summon up. "Another!" Drink, that was.
Andromena does well to match him. It was a fine chance to practice her silent game of keeping her eyes locked on his own. To her credit, Andromena managed to last just a split second longer than Alphard before she too collapsed into laughter. Full blown laughter, of the sort that brought a wealth of tears to her airs and a lack of air to her chest. The good kind of laugh, where mirth just bubbled through you and washed away everything else. Her small frame pooled into a chair close to Alphard, and she busied herself with wiping at an eye.
"Me too," between the last few laughs that very nearly became hiccoughs. "I'm what?" Asked as she grinned.
It isn't a mere bar wench, whose attention Alphard draws by his imperious, Blackly gesture — it's Fabia herself. She has been keeping an eye on this group of beautiful, beautiful young people, as they enjoy themselves together. Oh, how desperate their attempts to affect a Spanish air. But oh, how genuine their good faith. How they laugh together. How she adores them. She quite cuts off the girl who is attempting to answer Alphard, by a gesture of her own; and trots round the bar, a glass in her own hand, a frilly white apron tied about her eau de nil satin hips, to inquire of him, "What was that, sweetie?"
Lara continues to natter lightly at her partner until the song comes to an end. She then does the polite thing and bids him a polite thank you, before returning to her own seat. She pulls out a handkerchief to dab at her forehead, glancing around as she tucks it away again. "I wonder if I could have a tom collins, perhaps?"
"You're just plain terrible," Alphard finished his girlfriend's query, but was done with a lark rather malice. "Beautiful, too, but mostly terrible."
Though the boy's arrogance was never far from the surface, in the current good mood that the night had blessed him with, it wasn't quite as obnoxious. A kindly soul could even simply call it an overflowing fount of youthful confidence. And after all; he was handsome, rich and young. Why shouldn't he be full of it? His dark eyes took in Fabia for a moment, before he told her: "We should all like.. something interesting to drink. We liked the other one quite well, whatever it was. Delightful. So something else in a similar line!"
One assumes Douglas is still around somewhere, still getting drunk on Alphard's bill.
Andromena rolls her eyes at him. Terrible. "You should talk," she quips before Fabia arrives. "It was something of a cider punch," the younger girl tells the woman before them, since Alpard hadn't really done all that great a job of answering it himself. "But as Alphard said, another surprise would be great." Since she had liked the other so much, Andromena trusted that Fabia could supply them with another, equally enjoyable drink. A look was sent Lara's way, considering. She could invite the girl over, but then that would mean she would be expected to apologize to Black and they were having a really good time, his ever-present arrogance aside.
"Another amusing sort of punch, then," giggles Fabia; she is unable to resist patting Alphard's shoulder just once. Her henna'd hair gleams; her diamond necklace glitters; her smile frankly *sparkles*. Altogether too bright and lively for a pub in Hogsmeade; or at least that's the general consensus amongst its patrons… "I'll make plenty of it, don't worry. Tho' don't please go back to school too squiffy; or I might get in trouble with someone or another. And if you're going to disport yourself en Espagnol, put your arms like" She strikes a pose, one arm raised and the other held behind her back, her stance suddenly very masculine despite her everything else. She smiles amiably at him, nods to the others if they're looking, and trots away.
Alphard's nose wrinkled sceptically when Fabia deigned to put her hand on him. Really. Did he look like he wanted an old and rather overdressed old woman to act like his new best friend? This was what you got with being overly casual with the help. None the less.. it was an evening for festivity, so he let it pass. "That will be wonderful, madam. And have no worries, we'll manage. And if we don't, I'll be sure to bribe a prefect to say we did anyway." He squinted at her sudden pose. "Really?"
"Oh, you might as well invite her over, Meanie. I can see you looking. Here, I'll even do it for you." With an exaggerated sigh, he slanted a look to Lara and then did a come-hither wave over.
Lara doesn't seem to have realized her error yet, so she simply sits, relaxed, in her seat and watches the others with the same distracted look upon her face that most people turn towards a fire. She is neither too focused, nor completely unfocused upon her surroundings, just relaxed. The hand wave though, that gains her attention, and briefly her eyebrows do their best to touch her hairline. She gives a quick blink to focus herself, then smiles again before nodding her head. She rises to her feet again and makes her way over to where the pair are sitting. "Good evening," she tells them both brightly, eyes twinkling in the light. "Might I say that you both looked simply scrumptious on the floor just then?"
"Oh," Andromena breathes, watching Fabia. "Now she's good." The struck pose itself was enough to endear the diamond-wearing woman to Andromena, no matter Alphard's thoughts on the matter. As for returning to school too sloshed to avoid detection…well, Andromena had said her last drink would be it for the evening, but no. This drink would be the last. Sure, it wasn't Sunday night, but tomorrow would be a busy day all the same, right? A question for Alphard before he potentially became too stewed, but no… she'd ask on the morrow.
Andromena gives Lara a companionable wave when she nears. "Evening Lara," said with a smile. "Thanks for the compliment." She gestured for the girl to take a seat with them.
Thorough instructions are given to Tessa and her cohorts. Another martini, first of all; and then, why, an interesting but not too alcoholic (Fabia is worried about the children's capacity, even though they don't seem to be!) sort of punch, which won't take too long to brew… With a glass in her hand, and her apron off — it's not too long till their curfew, it's not too dreadful of her to give up on working, now is it? — she sashays round the bar, Mugglish, glamourous, obviously on the prowl. Who's that? Ohh… A young lady, a blonde, in her middle-twenties, is drawn out of one of the booths, and compelled (she exhibits no particular reluctance) to join Fabia upon the informal dance-floor so recently vacated by the Hogwarts quartet. Fabia's feet find the rhythm; her hips find the melody; and all her partner really has to do is to be there, while decades of training, professional experience, and pure passion, support her through an improvised dance to what is, after all, one of her very own records by her very own favourite South American dance band. Wheee~!
"I don't know. There's something vaguely off about her." Unfortunately for Alphard he really couldn't put his finger on it right now. For one he wasn't terrbly familiar with what was just weirdness and what was Mugglish, and for the other he was starting to get a wee bit drunk. It couldn't be helped. He hadn't been sixteen that long, not nearly long enough to build up any sort of resistance. Certainly not with only access to it every two weeks.
"Yes, yes we were, weren't we?" This for Lara. "Just a little pause, and we'll be back at it. I intend to steal at least one more dance from Meanie here before we head back to Hogwarts."
Alphard's eyes returned to Fabia and her blonde. There were a few owlish blinks, slow, considering. "Is that.. really.. appropriate?"
Lara tilts her head a moment and considers Alphard's face carefully. She gives him a friendly smile again, before sliding into the seat closest to Andromena. Quietly, carefully, she whispers something into the other girls' ear, with a serious look upon her face. She waits for a reply before straightening up once more.
Andromena wanted to tell Alphard that he needn't ever feel that he had to steal a dance from her, but at the same time there was something a little romantic in the notion. As far as she was concerned, at any rate. She follows his gaze to Fabia as she shimmies towards the dance floor, pretty blonde in tow. She didn't see what the problem was. Girls danced with girls all the time, take a look at any of the school dances. Unless he meant her dancing in general while on the job. For that she had no answer.
As Lara whispers into her ear, Andromena considers whatever it was she's say before giving a low reply in kind. Alphard could have his last dance, and then she'd quietly suggest that they take a nice stroll back to Hogwarts. Her latest drink can only manage to reach the half-way point before the Ravenclaw determines she's had more than enough.
Of course then the punch arrives. In bountiful glasses. It's slightly sweet, slightly spicy — not what they had before, and difficult to tell how strong…
Fabia and her blonde friend are laughing together (or perhaps Fabia's just laughing enough for both of them) — holding hands, dancing lightly this way and that, nudging up against the boundaries of how far they can go without disturbing any of the paying drinkers. There's nothing indecent in their steps — only, if one has a mind to see it, in the way Fabia's slender body shifts and curves itself within her light blue satin, always instinctively presenting an elegant, feminine, three-dimensional picture to the taproom at large. Old habits die hard. Beloved old habits even harder. She's adoring every minute; and her smile, as she looks into her friend's eyes, could tell a thousand tales.
Lara nods in return, her eyes following movement, and thus, watching Fabia dancing with her partner. There is no shock on her face either, so it must not be an uncommon sight. One foot swings back and forth as she sits forward slightly in her chair, evidently full of that youthful energy. She takes a slow sip of her drink, before recoiling slightly. She looks down at her glass and her brows pull together before she looks up to the left, then softly sighs and shakes her head. She sets her drink back down carefully, tucking her hands into her lap. "Did you two see anything interesting today while you were wandering in town?" She smiles again. "I saw the cutest little owl down in one of the windows, but I don't know how on earth it could deliver more than a tiny note." She continues watches Fabia dancing and her head tilts, as though taking mental notes.
Andromena rather enjoys the spicy flavor of this latest drink. It's far more appealing than those that are sickeningly sweet. Briefly her gaze pulls from Fabia and her partner - she wants to see if there's anything more worth picking up, you see! - to look to Lara as she speaks. "We didn't actually do much looking around today," she tells the younger girl. In fact, Andromena had come to the Three Broomsticks on her own, and found Medusa Malfoy. It was only later that Alphard had arrived. "However, I've found that the smaller and cuter a creature typically is, the more useless it shall be." She wondered why that was.
Oh, Andromena. Oh, Lara. There's a lot to pick up, but it will be very difficult to get hold of, even with both anxious hands, unless you happen to have begun taking dance lessons in the utmost seriousness as soon as you were old enough to walk… Fabia's eyes shine; she twirls her taller partner four or five times; and then, when the other is so dizzy she needs a hug to catch her balance, Fabia relents, and scoops up her martini glass from the top of the piano, and accompanies her back to the booth whence she came for a Confidential Chat.
Lara gives a delicate shrug again before musing aloud, "When they're smaller, they do remind one of infants, and we all know they aren't the most useful of creatures. But, at least the smaller the animal, the smaller the mess normally." She suddenly giggles. "Oh gosh, but can you picture if our owls were the size of hippogriffs, what it would look like when the mail arrived?"
Oh gross, Andromena's nose crinkles with the thought. The owl tower was disgusting enough in her opinion without the creatures being any bigger than they already were. Love for Merwyn aside, he was still a bird that just pooped wherever he pleased and deposited his feathers simply by being. Getting to her feet, inspired by Fabia, Andromena tugs Alphard back to the dance floor so that they can have their final bit of fun for the evening. As she does, she tosses Lara a happy grin. "We'll be heading back to Hogwarts after this if you want to join us." Or she could not, and leave the young couple to stroll back on their own.