| Details for Mistletoe & Butterbeer |
| Summary: | In which mistletoe and butterbeer inspire a little kissing, a little holiday cheer, and a lot of changing seats at the bar. |
| Date: | December 07, 1938 |
| Location: | Three Broomsticks Pub |
| Related: | — |
| Characters |
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It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas… or, not really a lot, as the decorations are only just starting to come out of storage. Mistletoe is strung about above the bar though, and a few stools settled directly under a sprig are conspicuously empty, clusters of students eyeing them with nervous amusement and opting for seats with less expectation. The butterbeer is flowing, and conversations ebb and flow with the steady excitement of yet another Hogsmeade weekend.
Peyton makes her way into the pub, her cloak drawn taut about her shoulders, the cool afternoon air bringing a subtle rosiness to her cheeks. Glancing about, it takes her only a moment or two to recognize the reason for the abundance of empty seats, and with a laugh, she too moves to take a seat that isn't directly under the mistletoe. "I'll buy a drink for anyone that comes to sit here next to me," she calls out in offer to any near enough to hear it, patting the stool just next to her, the jolly sprig of poisonous intent dangling just overhead.
Jenny'd already been in the pub, having been accosted earlier by a rather…odd old man who'd been insisting with Helene's help, that he buy her a dress because she ought to look like a lady. Things had been heated and before Jenny's temper had had a chance to make itself known in truth, they'd retreated leaving her to her peace and quiet. Of which she was enjoying, tucked into a booth not too far from where Peyton settled; nursing a glass of whiskey, while a cup of coffee sat cooling before her.
"You'll be paying for drinks and for kisses, if you aren't careful," Jenny teases, her grin gone crooked with appraisal and youth. Too many of the stuffy sorts often ended up inside. "To go along with those drinks. Particularly when it takes no more than a smidge of a spell to adjust that mistletoe." Wink.
A single finger is pointed upwards at an angle, as if berating the mistletoe for even considering moving. "I'm really not too worried," Peyton tells Jenny with an amused smile of her own. "Since apparently mistletoe has been terrifying little boys since time immemorial." She motions toward the barkeep then. "Butterbeer, yeah?" she asks fairly sweetly, before turning on her stool to rest one arm on the bar and face Jenny. "Getting deep into the cups a little early there, no?" she asks, nodding toward the glass of not-coffee in front of the other girl. "Not that I can blame you, this week has been one for the books."
Marcus arrives from Central High Street.
"Deep? No. But Prince drug me out shopping just as soon as we could leave the grounds this morning and…," Jenny hates to shop. Absolutely. With a passion. With equal passion does she prefer trousers to dresses and it's a struggle to find a memory of her that involves one outside of forced school functions. Either way, she eyes the fifth year girl with a grin. "Let us just say that I needed my strength, because she had every intention of trying to drag me back. And if you think that mistletoe is going to scare boys now…then you've been hanging out with the wrong kind of boys," but due to the conversation, Jenny hauls herself out from the booth; those long legs making easy strides to where Peyton's sitting. With an eye towards the green above, she claims a stool and promptly depostits her jacket onto the stool next to her, in an attempt to make sure it stays empty. "I'll be so glad when the year's over, won't you?"
A casual stroll takes Marcus into the pub. And like Peyton, he takes a moment to notice the seats, then see the mistletoe. An amused smirk touches his lips as he walks further in and boldly strolls toward the thing at everyone else seems to avoid. He plops down, under the mistletoe and next to Peyton. "Hey," he greets, grinning. And apparently he heard that little bit from Jenny about the 'wrong kind of boys' because he adds a, "Oh, she has. I keep telling her. You should be hanging out with me, but, she won't listen," he tsks tsks, offering a very not innocent smile at Peyton. "Nice to find you here. Both of you."
Peyton watches Jenny approach, noting the appraising glances given as the sixth year crosses the room. "What's not to love about shopping?" she asks when Jenny settles down, and she gives the blonde a wry look when the stool on her side is rendered unavailable. "You're clearly shopping with the wrong girls." She slides a couple of sickles across the bartop in payment, lifting the foaming tankard of butterbeer to her lips to take an appreciative sip. "I'm looking forward to the end of the year," she confirms. "A break from classes, a chance to catch up on studying at my own pace. Are you going home for the holiday?" she queries, using her thumb to wipe a bit of foam from her lip - and then almost stabbing Marcus in the face with said thumb in surprise when he plops down next to her unexpectedly.
"Goyle," she says, covering up her startled response with a cool greeting, but her cheeks redden all the same. "We hang out plenty, I'm not sure I've been any better off for it, to be honest." She smiles then, softening the words somewhat. "I promised a drink to whomever sat under the mistletoe," she informs him. "So what'll it be?" She asks Jenny, "Is this the right type of boy? I get the feeling no one should ever accuse Marcus of being the right type of anything."
"If it's a girl that's trying to put me in a dress or change me, or spend fifteen minutes, to try on dresses, change shoes and worry about colors…then yes," Jenny agrees, "I am. I like to get in and then, out just as quickly as possible." Unless it had to do with Quidditch and then the Chaser had to be pratically drug out by her hair. "For a few days, I suspect, but mostly I have other plans for them." Came admitted, in regards to whether or not she was going home for the holidays. "Mostly I just like to get away from the school."
The sixth year couldn't help chuckling though, at Peyton's reaction to Marcus upon his arrival and a crooked grin danced across her lips, "I'd say that he probably is the right sort, yes. At least from his grin. Particularly if you're looking to get kissed and since he's there..," pointed out, with an ever so helpful cant of her head towards the conspiring holiday festivities.
"Easy there, thumbs are dangerous weapons," Marcus mumbles, raising both hands in surrender and smirking at Peyton. "Pey," he greets her casually. "Obviously, we don't hang out enough, or, you would be better off for it." He sounds quite serious as he says this. The mention of a drink visibly cheers him up. "Butterbeer," he replies easily enough. At her question to Jenny, however, he glances over, smirking while he silently mouths, 'Say yes'. He offers a lazy salute to Jenny as she does just that. "Hey, I am here," he agrees with the sixth year. He'll have to get Jenny a drink later or something. "It's a nice warm and cozy spot too."
The look Peyton gives Jenny is less than appreciative, objectively. "Well, I love dresses as much as the next person, but you wear trousers well," she admits easily. "So shop for whatever you like, and I will try to resist picking out floral prints for you - but no promises." She motions for another butterbeer to be brought over, this one for Marcus, and she pays for that too. "You enjoy your nice warm cozy spot, you and your lips," she tells him. "And you stop giving him ideas," she adds, this time to Jenny herself. "Else the next boy that walks through the door is getting the wink-wink treatment right in your direction." She settles back against the bar. "Anything interesting?" she asks, in regards to those upcoming holiday plans spoken of by Jenny previously. "I'm going to be going on a drama-riddled adventure, courtesy of Goyle here. It was foretold."
When Peyton's glancing more Marcus' way than hers, Jenny mouths a 'You're welcome' in the boy's direction and offers a wink, before sipping her very obviously doctored coffee. No sense in carrying around two glasses. But then she's slammed with the suggestion of floral prints and, "I don't wear floral prints." It's a tone that brooks little room for argument, but goes down easy with the grin she's wearing that suggests it's all in good fun. "You're the one sat next to mistletoe," she reminds Peyton, "Offering to buy a drink for whomever'd sit there and kiss you. Or…" her look turns sly, more conspiring than anything else and towards Marcus, "If you won't kiss him, I suppose I could go sit on his other side and do it for you. Poor boy deserves one." Yet, despite her playful gesting, Jenny shows no signs of getting up to do anything of the sort.
All the talk about shopping is sort of going over Marcus' head. So he makes very sure to stay out of that. The butterbeer arrives, and he doesn't waste time as he takes a sip from it. "I don't think that's the way it works," he sounds all serious again, but there are hints of teasing in his voice. "Come on, Pey. Tradition and all," he insists. But then Peyton references that adventure the leaves pointed to and he actually settles down some, covering it with more drinking. He flashes something as close to a smile as he gets. "Looking forward to it," he adds, with a bit of a sardonic bite, that is quite lost in that hint of a smile. The smile becomes a smirk again, though as Jenny continues with her encouragement. "She's right you know. The poor boy deserves one." He offers a serious nod.
"Later." Comes a voice from way of the hall, a hall that produces Gerald who moves at a lazy pace. Gus and Evie are on his heels, though as he slows his step to search out a proper seat, the couple move on and out of the pub. Gerald, yes complete with book, selects a seat at random. One that places him close to the other party.
Peyton points two fingers at her own eyes, then one at Jenny - the classic sign for 'I've got my eyes on you'. "Kiss him if you like, I'm almost positive he bites; he seems like the type. And I wasn't offering the drink for someone to kiss me, it was about sitting under the mistletoe and not being afraid to be kissed," she claims. Flustered, she sips her butterbeer to hide it, though when Marcus starts in on the teasing as well, she wonders, "Since when do you care about tradition? Poor boy nothing, I can't believe either of you has the nerve," she posits.
When Gerald and Co. arrive, Peyton waves at the departing couple, then asks Gerald, "So… did you notice the mistletoe, or…?" She vaguely points upward at the mistletoe over his head, apparently quite amused at the amount of female attention turning his way.
"Biting's nice," Jenny muses, expression thoughful despite the promised 'I'm watching' look from Petyon. "When it's done right. But I swear it sounded like you were offering drinks for kisses," she continues her teasing of the other girl. "And you have paid him…, so..," and then, things were being twisted and she wasn't sure what Marcus was replying to, but she wasn't getting up from her stool. Not yet.
But distraction came in the form of.., "Cornfoot!" Jenny twists about greeting the Gryffindor with an easy smile. "You're out again." No teasing him about his book, either. "You should join us. No use sitting off all by yourself," invited; hauling her jacket off the stool and giving it a thump of invitation. The reason her jacket was there to begin with clearly forgotten.
"I've always cared about tradition," Marcus replies, a little defensive. "Well, not these kinds of traditions I admit, but still." He looks at the mistletoe, then at Peyton and shaking his head he looks at the mistletoe again. "What a waste," he mumbles as he drinks from his butterbeer. Gerald's arrival causes Marcus to look up, but then he looks down, paying little attention to the other boy… that is, until Peyton speaks up. He looks at her, squints and drinks some more.
Jenny's words to Peyton garner approval from Marcus and he flashes the Fifth Year next to him a grin. But he stops pushing it, just looking back at that mistletoe and letting the issue easily slip from his mind. "That's dedication," he observes of Gerald's book.
"That's newts." Gerald responds rather easily toward Marcus, but he does stand, moving himself and his book toward the indicated seat with a small yawn…and a glance toward Peyton. They *look* familiar..but are they? He can't be sure. What he is sure of is that Jenny is all to familiar. She gets a grin as he settles, "You realize that you can be heard all the way at the back of the Inn?" just sayin.
"What does Marcus care about N.E.W.T.s, they're only the most important thing happening right now is all," Peyton laments to Gerald, only half in jest. Fellow Slytherins, the fifth years are probably somewhat familiar at least. "Which reminds me; you, me, herbology," she tells Marcus. "I see no reason to wait until the holidays if we can schedule a studygroup before then." She takes a sip of butterbeer, her tankard less than half-full at this point, and completely out of foam - tragedy.
"You're trouble," she tells Jenny, but she doesn't sound anything less than pleased to come to this conclusion. "Though if it comes wafting through the gossip network that I allegedly paid Marcus Goyle for a kiss, I will probably hex your hair right off," she decides then and there. "But go on, you talk gigantic so let's see this kiss he so deserves then," she adds ever so sweetly, putting them both on the spot, as it were.
"And just what were you doing in the back of the inn with the other two, hmm?" Jenny asked of Gerald, flashing a teasing grin in his direction, along with a playful little elbow to the side. "Particularly that had you back there thinking about me. For shame!" The tease is easy, as light hearted as most everything the girl does, unless it involves Quidditch. "Ugg, Herbology." Jenny's nose wrinkkes at the thought of it, a full on shudder running down the length of her body.
"Cornfoot, you know Crabbe and Goyle, don't you? The crabby one is threatening to hex my hair off, incase you didn't notice." Somewhat cheekily added, before she glanced back towards Petyon when she upped the terms of their teasing. "What?" She'd been trying to get the boy a kiss from Peyton, not her! "I can't I'm…," bugger. She couldn't say it, either. "He's a fifth year." Oh yes, Jenny. Hide behind that wall.
Marcus purses his lips as Peyton grills him about the N.E.W.T.s. There's a deep breath, as he summons patience, apparently having heard something similar from her before. The irritation disappears when she mentions herbology. He quietly drinks from his butterbeer and nods. "Sure," he replies, lacking commitment. "I'd be up for it." And yet, he sounds sincere, at least.
Peyton's words to Jenny cause him to squint, frown and then scowl. "You know what, forget it. Stomp on tradition if you want. I didn't know you found the idea of kissing me to be so horrid," he says this with indignation, dismissing the whole thing with a wave. "I was just teasing you anyway. Not interested," he adds, the indignation still there as he stands up. "There, someone else can sit there, and you can kiss him, Pey." He nods to Gerald. "Cornfoot, what's the book about?" He completely pretends he didn't hear Jenny's response to Peyton as he prepares to walk past her, so he can go sit at the other side of Gerald.
Peyton, fish out of water. Mouth forming a little 'o' of surprise, she watches Marcus get up and leave her side. "I didn't…" Cheeks reddening, there's a moment where she just looks between Jenny and Marcus - and then she turns toward the barkeep. "Another, please," she says, handing over her nearly empty tankard in exchange. "You're definitely getting florals this year for Christmas," she tells Jenny, apparently deciding to take this one out on her. "In dress form. No - frilly dress form. With lace," she adds, taking a sip of her newly minted drink. "And matching barettes." She's clearly on a roll here.
Gerald sighs, watching the three peers with a look that says it all. 'Oh god'. "It's a potions book" he adds toward the other boy, though his attention remains on the two girls as they talk, his eyes occasionally lifting toward the mistletoe overhead. It gets a brow lift, but for the most he remains silent.
Soleil arrives from Central High Street.
From a booth far in the back, emerges the Gorgon. She has a satchel slung across a shoulder and is dressed in a woolen coat and a knit hat with Gryffindor colours. Even so, she is unmistakably Medusa. Unmistakably so because younger students flee from her path as the see her get to her feet. Used to this she pays it no notice until someone actually doesn't move and is in fact stood in her way. Booted feet stop. A light cigarette is pulls from coral painted lips. The girl in front of her is small, likely a forth year. Her friends tug on her sleeve trying to get her to move. When the girl finally realises why she lets out a squeal and turns, dashing away and colliding with a boy beneath some of the sprigs of mistletoe hanging about the place. Medusa? She merely exhales a ring of smoke and carries on walking towards the door.
"Don't give me that look. I didn't have anything to do with it. You're the one that made him get up and move, because you wouldn't kiss him," Jenny offers Peyton, ever so helpfully. "Dress me in florals, by the way and I will tell everyone that you were trying to buy kisses with drinks." She teases, before following Gerald's gaze up towards the hanging mistletoe and then…easing back off her stool, in the very helpful manner of offering Marcus somewhere new to sit, surely. Next to the boy with the book he's so interested in. It's not at all an excuse to stop sitting within arm's reach of Peyton, is it? Noooo. Of course not.
He was late. Others may not notice this, but if there is something that Silas cannot stand, it's the concept of being late to anything… even if the timetable is purely his own. Still, his ever-present smile is fast on his face. Today the boy is not wearing his standard green, instead wearing a multi-layered winter robe as black as night, with silver embroidery running up either side that shimmers as it catches the light, mathcing leather gloves on his hands, and black boots.
He walks through the doors of the pub silently, although the slight wind that ushers in past him gives him just a little more flare than he might have intended. His eyes first land on Medusa, and then on the cigarette in her hand. Was that a slight twinge in his eyes? Disgust? Perhaps. The smile remains firmly in place, and he offers her the slightest of nods as he walks past her, clearly looking for someone else.
When he sees the other four, his smile widens, and he walks up directly to them. Unknowing, he watches a stool be vacated, and puts a hand on it, "May I join you?"
Soleil comes in only so far as to wave to everyone with a big smile. Though she waggles her gloved hand to try and get Gerald to rather ditch whatever he's doing and come do something she has in mind.
Medusa blows Silas a kiss as he walks past her. Soliel gets a real kiss, of sorts, as Medusa kisses the air near her cheek. "Cousin. Oh good, you're rescuing Gerald. He looks a bit green. With all these parasitic plants…hope he isn't allergic." With a little wave to Gerald and a nod to Sunny, the seventh year leaves the pub.
All the talk of moving seats has Gerald mildly terrified of the small plant over his head. It takes very little effort from Sunny to talk him off his stool and toward the door, his steps falling behind Medusa as she leaves. He even rolls his eyes toward the blonds words, though he does spar a small wink her way before reaching for the brunette, "I thought you had things to do?" He decides in regards to Sunny, "Not that I'm complaining."
"Hey, look potions. I love potions," Marcus says, letting go of whatever resentment he was feeling before and moving on, or at least, so it seems. "No, really I do. It's one of those things that I'm actually good at." He nods to Jenny as the stool is offered, glancing in Medusa's direction, and deciding the book is still more interesting… that is, until Silas joins the group, and he's by the chair that Marcus just vacated. "Meliflua," he greets, flashing just the smallest of looks at Peyton.
Medusa's words to Gerald cause Marcus to smirk. He studies the other boy. "-Are- you, allergic?" Solelil gets a, "Hey, Parkinson," in greeting.
As Helene walks in through the door, wearing normal school uniform on with the only change being the fact that her shirt is dark red instead of white, and gives a brief wave to the woman behind the counter "A beer." she says in passing, then turns to talk to the other students in the pub "And hello everyone, mind if I join the table?"
Soleil cheek kisses Medusa in return and then grins and gives Gerald a quick smooch, he was under the mistletoe after all. That's grounds for a bit of loosening up in her usual proper lady like manners. "I missed you. … and everything is in the bubble bubble stage." Sitting and watching her cauldrons bubble, or spending time with her boyfriend. Hmmm, wonder which a teenage girl would choose! But after that quick little kiss she's back to propriety and she waves to Marcus and then to everyone again in farewell before she takes Gerald's hand and leads him out.
"I should have bet you real money about boys being scared of mistletoe," Peyton mentions idly to Jenny. Soleil's entrance gets an arc of a wave from the fifth year, and she tells Gerald, "See you around." Silas' taking of the newly vacated seat draws her attention then. "By all means," she says in response to his query. "But be warned; there is mistletoe overhead, so if you'd like to run now, we won't hold it against you," she says with a crooked smile, her blue eyes shifting toward Marcus with some unspoken amusement.
Soleil is possibly overheard asking her boyfriend. "So how much snogging have you been up to in my absence?" Before the door swings shut.
For her part, Jenny offers a wave in the retreating wasps direction, before she focuses more on the group that remains, rather than leaving. "Be good, Cornfoot," offered the retreating bookworm, before she glances back towards Peyton with a grin and then..there's Silas. "Sy!" The chaser exclaims, all but bouncong on the balls of her feet. "You made it! I was beginning to worry that you weren't going to show and then I'd be left feeling like a third wheel with these two," she gestures back and forth, between Marcus and Peyton, "Who are dying too, but clearly afraid to kiss each other. And you look..," he wasn't in his robes, either. This has to be a first. So that, "..good," came out a little sofer than the rest. Before she flashed a grin at Peyton. "I know what you're doing, even if your boy doesn't."
Silas offers a chuckle at Medusa's reaction, and the reactions of the others around him, offering an acknowledgment to both Marcus and Peyton before taking Marcus' vacated stool. "Thank you all," he offers as he slides into the seat, watching Jenny vacate hers before registering his presense. The smile widens, and he holds out a hand to her, "I'd hate to make anyone a third wheel." Then he notices where he's sitting, looks between the other two, and quirks his head to the side, "I've interuppted a scene of much intrigue, haven't I?" Silas is, of course, completely oblivious to the complemetn, and any subtext contained therein. Of course.
"Hey look, someone at least got a mistletoe kiss. Hurray," Marcus offers that last bit with a tinge of a mocking tone. He glances over at Peyton, and then the mistletoe. He then flashes a smirk at Silas, that is supposed to be a smile. "Don't worry. You won't have to worry about any unexpected kissing, I assure you." Peyton gets an oh so sweet barely there smile. He's about to wave the barkeep for another butterbeer when Jenny speaks up and poor Marcus has a coughing fit. "Who says I want to kiss her?" He protests, turning away so he can flag over the barkeep, seemingly unbothered by it all. "Besides, she's a tradition killing… *mumble*mumble*," that last bit is just completely lost as it becomes a mutter. Sooo… he scoots over to the stool that Gerald was just at, to put some more distance between himself and the group. And that, of course, lands him under another mistletoe.
Grabbing a nearby chair and pulling it over Helene takes a seat and lets out a sigh, dumping her red leather bag on the table, which in turn produces a louder thud than it should. "You're being so terrible to them they're actually afraid of kissing you?" she directs the question at Jenny "You must've done something very interesting."
"There is no intrigue!" This from Peyton, who wraps her hands around her tankard of butterbeer as if she means to strangle it - or perhaps she's just projecting, considering Marcus has the majority of her attention at the moment. "I could unexpectedly kiss someone at any moment, I'll have you know," she says. "No one asked you to kiss me besides the troublemaker here," and she gestures toward Jenny, throwing her under the bus for her part in things. "So if you don't want to, you don't have to announce it to the entire pub, please," she adds testily. "I don't want to kiss him either," is also added, for posterity.
"Cute bag," she tells Helene then. "Very festive color, it matches Marcus' aura," she says, taking that cheap shot for what it's worth before turning to Silas once more. "No intrigue at all, though I've promised to buy a drink for anyone that sits in that particular seat. So what'll it be?"
"Fine, you don't want to kiss each other but you're certainly up in arms about not wanting to either," Jenny replies, sticking her tongue out at the pair of them before accepting Silas' gracious invitation of his hand and drifting right on over. She settles in at his side; giving a companionable shoulder-bump even if she's not yet let go of his hand. "You're my savior. Crabby's being crabby and calling me all sorts of terrible names. Did you hear her? Called me a trouble maker and Prince over there isn't helping." Huffpuff, playful huff.
"And I didn't make anyone not want to kiss me either!" She added, for Helene's benefit. "There's not been any talk about kissing me. It was about her." A nod of her head indicated Peyton.
Not one to pass up a free drink, Silas grins, looks over at Peyton's drink, and offers back, "Whatever you're having." Then with a spin that says he knows full well _something_ is special about this chair, he looks to Genevieve and smiles, "Plotting and scheming without me? I'm crushed. Much less with the talk of kissing. All rather untoward."
He squeezes the girl's hand as she takes his, and clearly is familiar enough to the closeness that it seems natural between the two of them. "He looks over at Payton again, before remarking, "You could always prove your clear ambivalence by just taking the minotaur by the horns and kissing him. Then it's done, and no one will have anything to say to prove otherwise."
"Well why isn't there are talk about anyone kissing you then? I'd be more curious about that myself, rather than whether or not those two, who I suspect can make their own lives awkward entirely without help" Helene smirks for a moment "really want to kiss eachother or not. Right?" a shrug "And thanks" she says, half turned towards Peyton "changed it this morning. Thought it would go better with everything else this time of year."
Marcus remains silent, nursing his butterbeer. He's thoughtful, making all sorts of faces, pursing his lips, widening his eyes and squinting. He side-glances at both Helene and Jenny as they speak. Then finally he lazily rests an elbow on the bar, hazel eyes on Peyton as he squints.
Without warning he stands up, reaches up and grabs the mistletoe there. He storms toward Peyton and flashes a grin at Silas and Jenny. "Pardon me." He holds the mistletoe over Peyton.
And he kisses her. On the cheek. It's gentle, sweet, very unlike the petulant and arrogant young man he's acted like so far. He drops the mistletoe in front of Peyton. "I didn't say I didn't want to kiss you either."
Turning to the rest he smirks. Nothing's happened, no sir. "You all have a good one," and with those words, he casually strolls over to the exit.
For the second time this evening, Peyton is left looking a bit like a fish out of water. Fully expecting… well, who knows what she was expecting when Marcus made his way over, but it probably wasn't that. A hand reaches up, fingertips touching her cheek where his lips pressed only moments earlier, and she remains at a loss for words for the moment, though Jenny gets all sorts of meaningful looks that probably don't translate to much at all.
"He did say he didn't wa… Oh." There's a moment of realization, but then he's gone, heading for the exit, and Peyton is left with a tankard of butterbeer and flushed cheeks. "Boys." She motions for a fourth serving of butterbeer, which gets her a funny look from the barkeep, but she motions toward Silas and with an understanding nod, it is served to the boy in the seat beside her. "Advanced Arithmancy has nothing on boys."
"I can make up for it," Jenny offers to Silas, "We can plot and scheme more now that you're here." Mischief twinks in her eyes as she offers him a smile. For the moment though, she doesn't sit. Just stands between him and the stool behind her, facing him, with her hip resting in against the counter. She'd dressed up for the outting too, sort of. Though Helene's statement has her flashing the girl a grin. "Why? I don't need talk about kisses to be happy and the absence of it doesn't worry me in the least. If it worried me," she continues, nose threatening to wrinkle, "It might mean I was shallow and that would be terrible."
Anything else she might have said went on complete hold when Marcus suddenly snatched down the mistletoe and went to kiss Peyton. All of Peyton's baffled silent girlspeech intelligable looks result in a corrosponding grin and Jenny giggles. "Called it." A triumphant smile was then offered to Helene. "See. That is why it's entirely much more fun to meddle. Besides, I like Crabbe. We're friends. She knows I'd help her out in a pinch."
A light laugh escapes Helene in response to Jennys comment, then she just manages to stop when Marcus pulls his stunt and she bursts out giggling instead. "Yeah yeah, you called it, and played it well, good going." she offers a smile towards her schoolmate "Well done. And like she says" a nod towards Peyton "Boys have nothing on Arithmancy. Like clockworks someone built to make no sense whatsoever, not even tell the time."
Silas doesn't know Marcus all that well.. but the boy's actions do surprise him, and he offers a healthy chuckle at his actions, "Good man. Good man."
He looks again to Jenny, offering up, "Looks like you've done a fair bit on your own, without any help from me… although," he pauses to listen to Peyton's reaction, taken the butterbeer with a nod, "I think she gives my gender far too much credit, honestly."
A look is now given to Helene, a brow raising as he waits to hear her response to Jenny's question, nodding when she does.
With the source of her fluster gone, Peyton tucks an imaginary stray lock of hair behind one ear, then says, "So, anyway. Jenny, you never did tell me what exactly you have planned for the holidays. And what of the two of you?" she asks Helene and Silas, very obviously changing the subject, but at least making a real effort at it. "I've just about decided to stay on at school this year, barring anything truly interesting happening elsewhere." Silas' denial of boy-illogic gets a doubtful smile. "I don't think credit is what we're meaning to give at all! It's more like… an accusation of conspiracy, really."
"Well it sounded a lot like credit to me," Jenny replies to Peyton with an absolutely shameless grin. Before she reaches out in an attempt to snag Silas butterbeer to steal a taste. Something sweet to chase away the bitter remains of long forgotten coffee. "We've got a party to go to," a nod of her head indicates Silas as part of the 'we'. Before she seems to remember something and leans down, to whisper a few quiet words in the boy's ear. All smiles though, once she straightens. "And there are a couple other parties I intend to either hit up or host, through the holidays. Some of my quidditch buddies are coming in."
"Well, I'm leaning towards staying myself. Might go home for the actual festivities, but since they don't coincide with the festivities here." Helene gives a non-commital shrug "It would work for me, but we'll see." with a smile she takes a sip from her own beer, since it arrives, slipping the waitress a few coins without really looking "You had something particular in mind that you wished for us to attend?"
Silas looks back to Peyton, nodding enthusiastically, "Hardly conspiracy. We simply muddle through just like everyone else… and are prone to being just as blind to the obvious." He didn't even get a sip of the butter beer before it's stolen from him, an action which at best gets a resigned eyeroll and a chuckle, "I decided not to go back to my parent's place in France this year. Neither will be there anyhow, and the thought of another winter on my own at home just didn't sound… fun." He offers. He then looks to Jenny and nods, "A party, or parties… " He listens to the whisper, and a brow raises, intrigued. He nods to her, and then snags back his beer so he can finally have a taste of his own.
Peyton shakes her head at Helene's query. "No, nothing really in mind," she admits. "Mostly just curious. You've all had the benefit of surviving Fifth Year, so tell me - am I better off staying and cramming like mad, or should I take some time off?" she asks, one finger idly stirring the foam of her drink. The whispering between Silas and Jenny gets her attention, but she quickly looks away, lest she look too nosy. That doesn't stop her from asking, affecting her best snooty teacher voice, "Something you children would like to share with the class?"
Was Helene asking her? For her part, Jenny plays absolutely and completely daft, as if she doesn't know just who the question was for or more, for what. Instead, she sort of picks and chooses the things she responds to. For instance there's a decidedly thoughtful and well placed, "I've never been to France," with the kind of winsome hopeful suggestion that was designed to drop a well placed hint at the boy she was grinning at, as he reclaimed his drink.
And then, "I would take time off, honestly. But then, I hate books and studying and I already know what I'm doing when I finish school," rather proudly announced. "I'm going to play quidditch, professionally and in the off seasons and once that has beaten me senseless, I'm going to work for Sy here, in his shop." Tada!
"Depends on your grades. I took the time off, enjoyed myself, but it could certainly pay off to stay on and study." the woman, Helene, shrugs and takes another sip of beer, smiling to herself "Of course nothing says you can't stay on and still relax a bit. Split it up evenly between the two you know. Bit of party here, bit of studies there maybe?"
Silas blinks at Jenny for just a moment, a slight glint there, "I don't recall being offered a resume of any sort," the phrase punctuated with yet another chuckle. Seems he does that quite a bit. At Peyton's marmish question his eyes sparkle, just a bit, but he shakes his head silently.
He looks around, disengaging his other hand deftly from Jenny's to slip it companionably around her waist instead, shifting slightly on the stool almost as if offering to share it since she seemed intent on being next to him, "France… well… I'm sure we could arrange time to go there over the break. There's that spot by the river I told you about, although no one would want to be in the water at this time of year."
Then it's back to Helene, and her answer to Peyton, "I'd say the wisest course would be a good balance of both. Don't study too hard, but don't waste the entire holiday larking about. NEWTs are important." Then, realizing there's likely an unanswered question, "I'm intending to breed, raise, train, and sell familiars once I graduate…"
Peyton nods at the advice. "So a little bit of party and a little bit of study. Sounds good to me, really." Finishing off her drink, she slides it and a few coins across the bartop. "Shopping soon," she reminds Jenny. "I owe you a frilly floral dress, and I mean to stuff you in it before break starts."
"Mmm, I should do that sometime then, shouldn't I?" Inquired, in a properly 'chastized' tone to Silas, though there was little she could do to hide her grin. No. Jenny's good mood was entirely too high at this point, to let it go. What she will let go of, is Silas' hand, since he seems to want it back; though the way he hooks her waist and adjusts on the stool has her accepting his offer by settling onto his lap with an unceremonious flop.
"Really? I'd like that. Do you think there will be the children there? Does it snow? Could we watch them?" The notion of travel has her all too excited, before Peyton's threat brings things to an all too serious head. "Why?" She almost whines it. "I got you a kiss. You should be doing me a favor, not conspiring to be cruel. I'm your elder! You should respect your elders!"
Alphard was in a fine mood as he confidently breezed into the Three Broomsticks, wizarding robes flowing around him, and a bit of color to his pale cheeks from the chill of december. Past the doors he paused just long enough to pluck off his gloves and the black knitted cap he'd drawn down over his head, and ruffle his hair sort of into order. Then he looked around. He spotted Genevieve in Silas' lap, of course, which broke out a vaguely bemused arch of his brow. Waves followed, though his path was to the bar to order up: "Some mulled wine, thanks!" Because he wanted the warmth back in his bloody body.
"Yeah, like that. Balance it out. Make an effort." with a sigh Helene leans back and slumps a bit in her chair before taking a big gulp of beer "Who knows, if you're lucky staying might score you extra Christmas gifts. Not like your parents will forget you just because you're not right in front of them, right?" with a smirk she winks at Peyton "Of course you might also be subjected to some horrible prank from some bored students or somesuch, so there are risks."
"It most certainly will snow, that I'm sure of. As to children…" Silas offers a quick shrug, taking another sip of his drink, "Possible. Now promises there, though." He then looks at Peyton, and then his grin widens, "PLEASE do try to talk her into some dress robes as well. She loves her trousers far too much, and I think she intends to die in them." Okay, so the boy is a wee bit into fashion. The winter robes would suggest that much. He playfully flinches back, as if expecting an attack for the previous statement, before seeing Alphard, catching the look, and offering him a silent smile, "Ah… our Hero of the Hour is here. Greetings, Black."
Peyton slips down from her barstool. "I didn't ask you to get me kissed," she chides Jenny heatedly, a subtle blush rising in her cheeks. "Troublemaker, is what you are; respect my elders indeed," she adds with a laugh. "Terrible." Spotting Alphard, she breezes a wave toward the fellow Slytherin. "Black; good to see you out and about." She promises Silas then, "I'll do my level best. It isn't seemly, her being all comfortable and happy in trousers after what she's put me through today," she adds, giving Jenny a teasing look. "Frills! Lace! Ruffled bloomers!" she vows ominously, her dark cloak swirling about her form as she makes for the exit.
"Alphard's drinks are on me!" Jenny chimes, quite loud enough to carry and with an all too broad grin. "I have never been more proud of you in my entire life, except for that moment last game, than I am right now. We'll get the House Cup for certain thanks to you. Did you see where Ravenclaw ended up?" There's too much delight in her tone, before what Silas just said seems to dawn on her and her jaw drops, affecting a playful pout. It's a look leveled mainly at Silas, before it becomes gawking, when she looks at Peyton. "No! Alphard, a little help here? Tell them I can't fly proper in dresses. Tell them it won't do. I look fine!" Hmph.
"Cousin darling," Alphard said with a playful wave to Peyton. "Always a pleasure." At Genevieve's enthusiastic invitation, and the promise of being treated for once, rather than being the one who paid for all his friends, Alphard joined! "Meliflua, Jenny. I hope you have deep pockets in those trousers of you, because this here man," he had finished his OWLS, so he counted, dammit! "Isn't cheap to carry." Witha chuckle he dropped down into a seat.. probably wherever Peyton had come from? "I did see it. I was somewhat disappointed they didn't kick him straight out of Hogwarts.. but it'll be funny to see how the Ravenclaw team deals with their captain and a beater off the team, eh?" He smirked. A pity Slytherin weren't playing them right now in their weakened state.
"Oh, also. I'm sure you can survive without flying for half a day, Jenny." regarding the dress.
Peyton wiggles her fingers at Alphard. "Be a good sport you two, kicking people when they're down is low entertainment," she chastises mildly. "Oh, and watch out for stray lips." With this last bit of cryptic warning, she sweeps out of the pub.
With a brief glance upwards Helene leans forward, her face mildly scowling "Considering the stunt he pulled he ought to have gotten more than a slap on his wrist." she shrugs "But yeah, I guess they might lose a bit on that, so his friends get a bit pissy. Who knows. Anyways, anyone want some chocolate froggies?" she suddenly reaches into her bag, withdrawing three small, golden, packets. "I got some earlier, cheap as dirt they were."
"Please, call me Silas," the boy offers to Alphard as he sits down. He looks to Peyton as she leaves, "And I want details of what you get her in. Promise me that." With that, he turns his attention to Jenny, "Really, you don't fly all the time. You don't have to look 'girly' to be fetching, you know. Shock a few people sometimes. Make them jealous. It's all the rage."
"I've personally been dying to hear what happened outside all the rumors and natter that's being going around behind the scenes… especially with the implications against a few of my associates outside the House."
A look goes to Helene, "I hardly think it was a slap on the wrist. The boy has had something he prizes taken from him, and there are still investigations pending. There's still more he and his associates could have stripped from them. The punishment may fit the crime, but Payton had the right of it."
"I can carry you," Jenny replies to Alphard with a chummy little smirk, "I've been doing it for years at Quidditch," her nose wrinkled with her grin, as she shifted just enough in Silas lap to better face both Alphard, who'd claimed Peyton's former seat beneath the mistletoe and Helene, who was still sitting at the table nears.
Of course, Silas totally derailed her line of thought. "If I don't have to look girly to be fetching, why're you trying to have me wrangled into a dress, unless of course, you're saying I'm not fetching. In which case, I should think very long and hard before I answered that if I were you, because I have incredibly boney elbows and that makes them sharp." Warned, playfully, with a cheeky smile, not a single ounce of truth nor care in her threats.
"Being stripped from Quidditch is a lot more than a slap on the wrist," Jenny gawked openly at Helene for such crazy talk. "But Alphard's right. I'd give anything if we were playing them now. Even if Edward's as probably wrecked his future.
"Didn't see you there, Prince," Alphard said, giving Helene a friendly wave. Surrounded by Slytherins, the boy's usual attitude of haughty contempt was absent. Instead he wore a friendly enough grin, cheerful in the holidays! His mulled wine arrived, and he smoothly directed the payment to Jenny!
"I'll say it, then, to save Silas your elbows: Your looks wouldnt hurt beneath a bit of fashion sense." His own winter robes were of the continental fashion, expensive, tailor made!
"If you've got.. associates.. then I'm sure you could get the whole story from them, couldn't you?"
Silas looks over at Jenny first, a spare finger flicking at her nose playfully, "He has the right of it. It's not a matter of not being fetching now or ever… but that it wouldn't wound it." He smiles, "That, and I wouldn't mind seeing it. Is that so horrible of me?"
His look turns back to Alphard again, and he nods, "Which I intend to do. However, as I mentioned, they are not of our House, and so as you well know when one of us gets the better of one of them, well, we're always cast as the villain. And that's not the story I'm interested in, at least not for the nonce."
"Well, regardless of how it ends, he shouldn't have done it, end of discussion. Now, onto more important issues than some Ravenclaw or other" Helene starts to break open one of the chocolate frog packagings "you all sure you don't want any of these?" she grins and pokes one of the small golden packages towards the rest of the group. "Can't have proper holidays without frogs after all!"
Jenny sighed, a great heaving put upon sigh and looked between both of the men with the kind of look that said she didn't appreciate being ganged up on. At all. "Fine." A playful glower added in Sy's direction. "Fine. Once and only once and for Black's Christmas, I'll wear something else. I'll even let the pair of you pick it, but then I don't want to hear another word about it. Next thing I'll know you'll be telling me I ought to be in domestics next and I may as well give up my broom forever." Hmmmph.
So in the meantime, she reaches to hijack Sy's butterbeer, for another small little sip. "I think," and she translates, "That he's asking you what really went down, Alphard," Jenny pointed out, before eyeing the chocolate that Helene was offering. "Sure! Pass me the froggie, wouldjo Black?"
"I know, Jenny. The short version is he thought he'd set a trap for me, but I was just one step ahead of him. Though I find it funny that I'm the villain when I break the rules, but I'm twice the villain if I follow them, eh?" He snorted with dark humor. "I can give you the details some other time. Our company does seem to despair of the topic, and we can't be rude!" Alphard dipped a mockingly theatrical bow towards Helene, deferring to her wishes.
When he straightened out again he had wrapped his hands around his mulled wine, sipping it slowly. He was as of yet completely unaware of any mistle toe shenannigans above him. Or he would have avoided taking Peyton's chair. One thing was stealing kisses, another was having others dare invade his private space!
"Hrmm.. Chocolate Frogs. You know what, I'll have one. I used to collect the cards. If it's a fancy one, perhaps my sister'll want it." So he took one, and tossed another in Jenny's direction.
There's a look of disdain on Ria's face when she steps into the Three Broomsticks. As she walks through the crowd, there's a scowl thrown around at change in decor and … what is this? Menus? What are these foods? "This place had gone to the pigs," Ria comments, upon joining her housemates. A polished finger pulls out a cigarette from her fancy metal case, offering it to the others. "Also, Solomon get off Meliflua's lap. Canoodling is strictly against policy, and not to mention tacky. Alphard do you have light?" The cigarette hangs from her lips while she asks for a butterbeer from the bartender.
Silas accepts the theft without complaint, seeming to mull over what he heard, "Sometimes, one cannot escape the expectations of others… no matter what you do. But you're right. My apologies," he offers, giving a nod to Helene.
A hand snakes out to intercept Jenny's frog, and if he's successful, he'll even make a play at keepway from her, if only for half a second. He then looks back at Alphard, after Jenny's offer, "We'll definitely have to conspire with Peyton now. No way I'm letting this chance get away from us…"
Then, enter Ria, with her commands. And is Silas actually blushing? Perhaps a smidge.
"Yeah, one of my friends used to collect them when I was younger. Popular that, back in the days." with a glance towards the new arrival Helene leans back in her chair again, taking a bite out of her frog "I had one of the servants enchant a rare one so it would change into a pebble after a while. She got so mad." a rueful, amused, smile spreads across her face "Well, I say mad but we laughed about it. She actually had it in her hand when it just went 'pop'. No more card." another bite, finishing the frog "And yeah, sounds like you got a worse rap for all of this, since you didn't actually do anything wrong. Grapewine justice and all that, eh?"
"Gonna set him on fire again?" Jenny asks of Ria, when the girl requests a light; though she declines the offer of a cigarette with a shake of her head. Even Silas' drink is returned to the counter before she frowns at this suggestion of both of them teaming up with Peyton to.., "No. Just no. I'll end up in something frilly and floral and a fifth year isn't picking my outfit to Black's party. Crabbe's great and all but, she's inclined for payback. Bad enough it's been suggested I'm playing 'help' there. And that…—Hey!"
Silas had stolen her snack! So while there's no elbowing, there is a bit of playful swatting and grumping, before he surrenders the treat. "I'll share it," a compromise is offered; while she carefully plucks at the wrapping, as if she'd never heard that particular order at all.
"Oh yeah, Alphard. I've got that list for you." A pause on the chocolate, free hand dipping into her pocket until a folded piece of parchment was offered out to Black.
"Aren't we cheerful, Ria," Alphard commented dryly. With a vague eyeroll he reached into his robes' inner pockets and withdrew a match case. The flame was struck to life with a dramatic flourish, and the sharp scent of sulfur. Not that Alphard smoked - beyond the occasional non-inhalation to look cool - but he was enough of a boy to find that always carrying a light had definitive benefits to it. So he beckoned Ria to lean in to get her cigarette lit. "Besides, the last time I went to the Hog's Head, I saw a rat scurrying. It's this or nothing."
"She's right. Ugh, my cousin's got a princess complex. She'll add a tiara to anything if you let her. Just.. no. Something sophisticated, I think." For Jenny.
Alphard munched his own chocolate down before it could escape, then took the list from Jenny.
Ria leans in gratefully accepting the flame, and inhaling with a puff, "Much obliged to you, Black. And yes, Hogshead is a bit too filthy for me this afternoon." She takes her seat on the other side of Alphard and look over to Jenny she says, "Nahh, we'll keep him around this time. However, as I said before - off of Silas' lap. You're making him blush. Don't make me say it one more time." Of course, while Ria's lax with other rules broken by Slytherins, she's also a prude. So PDA is rather repulsive." Seeing the exchange of sweets, Ria suddenly perks up and asks Helene, "What are those chocolate frogs? Can I have one?"
Silas holds up his free hand, "I relent, and acknowledge I've been out-voted." Noticing Jenny not actually acting on Ria's command, he does move to do so either, letting the chips fall as it may. That same hand smooths his black, definitely-non-uniform winter robes over a knee. He looks carefully, noting the parchment passing between Jenny and Alphard with a crease of the brow, and at Ria's smoking with a raise of the same brow.
For now, he otherwise remains silent, watching the interchange between the others.
"Sure." Helene smiles and reaches back into her bag, withdrawing another two packets "Help yourself, I've got plenty, visited the candy-store earlier and stocked up." a slight pat on the bag "Got something like three pounds of sweets in here. Thought I'd put it out in bowls at random over the next week, sort of get people into the holiday spirit. That and, you know, amuse myself by watching first years trying beans for the first time ever."
"Noooo, you're making him blush. And you're going to stunt my growth with that smoking too," because her nose had wrinkled, when the foul thing was actually lit. And one the second plume of smoke, Jenny sneezed, for all that it sounded an awful lot like someone stepped on a mouse. "That's such a disgusting habit." And Ria had sat close too. So it's not so much the command, as the air that put her to skittering, three stools down, as it happened and she sneezed once more before it got there. "Like eating ashes," muttered, with a shake of her head. "Horrible, horrible ashes. Did you get happen to find a professor who'd sponsor our little event, though?" The question it seemed, aimed at Ria. While poor Silas was offered an apologetic smile, for the distance.
"Or any afternoon," Alphard finished with a disgusted wrinkle of his nose. Aberforth might be more of a traditional wizard than the current owner of the Tree Broomsticks.. but filthy was filthy. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes on the list Jenny had given him. "All of these aer good right, and you know how to make them?" With one last glance he passed the list into a pocket.
"What sort of event?"
Myrus had spent the majority of this weekend so far at Hogwarts. This afternoon venturing out here by himself to get some things. If it weren't for the bitter cold, he would have made more than one trip. But carrying several items in his satchel was easier than trying to carry it all in his arms at once.
Satchel left on his bunk back in the Ravenclaw boys tower, he trekked back to Hogsmeade again, heading to the Three Broomsticks to see what was up there. When he steps inside, he sees that there was a few groups here.. maybe? He definitely saw the gathering of Slytherin, to whom all he gives a silent raise of the hand to about shoulder level to, as he heads to the bar to order a butter beer.
"Many thanks, Helene," Ria nods, putting down the cigarette into an ashtray so she can tear open a chocolate frog. And then she groans suddenly up on seeing her card, flicking it away from her so that it lands in the bar top nearer to the rest of her housemates. Jocunda Sykes. "I don't bloody know why I always get her," she pouts, shoving the cigarette back into her mouth while accepting her butterbeer. Jenny's cough is met with a deadpan face and the prefect shrugs, "You'll live. And no, I haven't yet. Though I don't doubt Beery will be on board. That's his particular expertise, as the arts adviser after all. Also, thank you for your compliance - no one ever goes into the trophy room." That last sentence sounded awfully random, but as a reward for Jenny's obedience, she has divulged a decent snogging spot. Who says Ria Sykes isn't good to her house? "Genevieve suggested she should hold a talent show. What sort of list?" she smiles sweetly at Alphard. She answered his question, now she asks hers. Tit for tat right?
"So a talent show is the event you're talking about?" Helene asks with idle curiosity "What sort of talents, or is it meant to just be random stuff? Singing, dancing, transfiguration charms and stuff?"
Abandoned, Silas works rather well at holding on to his customary smile, a look going to Ria after Jenny's show of distaste for the thing. His nose wrinkles a bit, but he does his bet to hide it by focusing on smoothing out his robes again. Much of the rest of the conversation is heard, and set aside for later, since clearly there's much going on about him that he's not aware enough about. Yet.
He then turns about, grabbing his mug, and stands… mistletoe location be damned. He looks over at Jenny once talk of a talent contest begins. Again, his head tilts to the side, but he remains silent once more.
Alphard caught sight of Myrus's raised hand, and though he didn't respond in kind, there wasn't anything directly hostile in the Black boy's demeanor either. For a second he kept watching, assessing, judging, then his gaze returned to his Slytherin compatriots. "It's a drinks list. Jenny's a bit of a boozehound, I'm afraid. Just champagne wasn't good enough for her, so she insisted that I expand on the beverages available at my holiday party."
"I've an aversion to boring parties that have people leaving early because the only fun thing to do is look down one's nose at someone else while sipping a glass of 'bubbly' that most imagine make them look 'posh'," a wink at Silas with her use of the word, "When it tastes like…," censor. Jenny has found her censor button. Amazing. How long shall this miracle last?
"And to be fair, I suggested we show case our lovely Prefect's talent, because we all know the only thing I'm good at is talking people to death and that is showcased every day. But I'm in the mood to be creative. This is best done by managing and so," a sweeping little seated halfbow is given, "I shall." Much as Ria's information sharing was tucked away, in the event that it was required for later use.
Yet Silas' standing caught her eye and the little tilt of his head and the girl slapped her thigh and pushed up to her feet, "But! You'll have to forgive me. Or summarily sigh in relief, for I've promised to go shopping with Sy before the weekends over and the clock's a ticking! Are you ready?" The question sent Silas' way.
As things go, Myrus wasn't really given any response to his greeting, and he gets his drink, looking around for others he may know. There were a few Ravenclaws there. Some ones his age, a little older. One's who kept to themselves mostly. He went to go sit with them.
For now, he didn't give any looks to those Slytherin in the group, but if one of them addressed him, he'd look and respond.
Ria pushes a stray hair out of her face, taking another inhale, but exhaling politely away from the group. After taking a sip of her drink, she replies to Helene, "I would say more mundane talents are what we're looking for, but it's not my idea. What do you think Jenny? Mundane talents? Not mind of course. I shall not be participating in said show." Leaning forward, she peeks over Alphard's shoulder at the list and her brows raise, impressed. "Ooooo, these sound delicious. You should trust her taste Alphard. Solomon here apparently bartends sometimes for the Appleby arrows. Jocunda's mentioned her a couple times." But the faint sprig of green over Alphard and Silas' heads gets her attention. Her finger pointing upwards she addresses the two boys, "Wait. You know, when that thing is over your head and you're under it with someone else, you're supposed to snog."
"Hah, so nothing more interesting than that? Alright, so what's on there? Anything I've never heard of before? And yeah, as Jenny says, more varied drinks, more varied music, makes for a looser atmosphere" Helene smiles "and consequently more fun." she glances around the pub for a moment "My best advice for it though, aim for the opposite of this place. Can't get more festive than that."
Silas looks at Genevieve with an almost grateful nod. There's no lie to it, thankfully, even if there is perhaps a wee bit of misdirection. He seems about to say something, when Ria makes her remark. The responding grin is almost immediately wicked. He looks to Alphard, "Frankly, out of a spirit of perversity, I'd almost be tempted… but clearly we'd be sparking some sort of hidden desire for a show in our dear prefect's heart… and I don't know if I have it in me to do that," He smiles over at Ria, deftly stepping out from under the mistletoe, before adding, "Isn't it something of a Muggle tradition, anyhow?" Ooh… darts. Dangerous game to play, Silas.
Alphard just rolled his eyes at Jenny. "My parties are never boring." Not that he had thrown a whole lot of them. He hadn't been sixteen very long, and it had taken quite a bit of wrangling and whining and general tantrum throwing to get his mother to allow him the free reign of their townhouse. But it was going to be awesome, because HE was throwing it! How could it not be a smashing hit?!
"I'll see you around, Jenny, Silas." He waved the pair farewell, before Ria made him blink. He looked up, nose wrinkling. Saved! Then a sudden sly stole across his pale features as he looked at the older prefect. "So what you're saying is that you've been thinking about snogging me and Silas ever since you entered?" A suffering sigh spilled past his lips. "Oh well. If you have to." His arms spread out invitingly.
"Yes, mundane talents. Such as, say, Alphard's ability to act," Jenny points out with a tease, before Ria…wait, Ria said something nice. And there was no one else around to hear it. Huh. The Prefect was offered a cheeky little grin and a slight incline of her head, before the girl's suggestion of the pair kissing had her snorting with laughter. It was made worse when Silas suggested that she fantasized about it and doubly so by Alphard twisting things around, implying that, as Ria had sat beside him and with him beneath the mistletoe it was she who owed him the kiss. The girl did naught but grin then, watching the proceedings and waiting on Silas, before they made their exit.
Over at the table at which Myrus had sat with some other Ravenclaws that were unwinding with actual alcohol, one of them checks the time on a pocketwatch. Myrus looks at the pocketwatch.
Doubletake.
"Is that really the time?" He asks worriedly. He slides his butterbeer in front of one of the other underage Ravenclaws, and stands up.
Ria smirks at Silas and says, "Well I suppose it's not so secret now is it? Besides, everyone's so damn crazy about muggles now-a-days. Why don't you try out this piece of muggle tradition just for a taste?" The glass is raised to her lips as she takes in more butterbeer and does a mock pout when Jenny and Silas go to leave, "Fine then. Take him away and hide him so that he won't have to face a challenge. Very manly of you Meliflua." Ria, however, practically groans at Alphard's twist on her words. Rolling her eyes, she puts down her cigarette, muttering in irritation, "You know, I really just want to shut you up right now so…" Gripping Alphard's left cheek, she pulls him in and wham! A peck is laid on the other cheek. And once that business is done, she picks her cigarette back up and scowls at the boy.
With a chuckle, Silas actually had taken a step forward as Ria was making her remarks… and then took matters into her own hands. Shaking his head, he motions to Jenny, "Not hiding. Holding off. Nothing more than that. Let's be off, shall we?"
Nonsense! She better believe that just as Ria was planting her wham! Alphard was innocently twisting his face just so. Whether it placed her peck on his lips or just very, very near them, some of the innocence of her exasperated gesture was rubbed away. Speaking of innocent, Herr Black maintained a look of it! Not that he was very good at it, mind, but he tried. Turning back to his mulled drink, he drawled out a lightly teasing: "Now if that's how you snog a certain someone, no wonder he's always so bloody wound up! I would be, too."
"And she said I was canoodling," Jenny teases, flashing a grin in Ria's direction before laughing outright at Alphard's meddling. "Yes," the girl agreed, taking a moment to ensure that Black's drink was paid for, and the second should he so desire it, before she quickened her steps to fall back in at Silas' side and then onwards towards the door.
Ria's jaw stiffens at his tease, frowning as she takes another drag of her cigarette. She lifts her chin up in defiance and coldly looks the other way, "You know what. I take my sentiment back. I will light you on fire." Shaking her head she clarifies to Jenny, "No, what you were doing was canoodling. What I just did was business." She waves the two off as they exit the Broomsticks.
Silas simply chuckles again, his head shaking a bit as he slips his arm around Jenny's waist once more. "It's not so bad once you get used to it, I've found. But I'm afraid we really must be off. Good eve, all, and we'll see you back at the school, I'm sure." Eager to depart, he heads toward the door.
Alphard's chest shook with a quiet little chuckle. "Oh come on, now, Ria. Are you sure you want to be refered to as the girl who does 'business' out of kisses? Just admit it. It was a moment of friendly.. affection." His poking at her pride was all playful humor, though, devoid of any actual malice. Few people were ever in doubt when Alphard really decided to be mean. He slid off the stool, and moved one step over to avoid being underneath the mistle toe still. It was all fun and games when he was in control. Less so if some randon mudblood from school decided to step up and smooch him one.
"Hey Ria," Jenny tosses back over her shoulder, when Ria talks about lighting Alphard on fire, unable to resist one last little playful jab before she flees. "I think you just did!" And then, she fled. Quickly. Whether Silas kept up or not!