(1938-12-23) A Galleon of Tea Leaves
Details for A Galleon of Tea Leaves
Summary: On holiday break, a group of students congregate in Cafe Tasseo.
Date: 1938-12-23
Location: Cafe Tasseo

It is early afternoon, just past tea time and the winter sky is a bleary but seasonal grey. The streets of Diagon Alley are thick with people this close to Christmas. The air may be bitter cold and sharp but that does not stop the holiday shoppers determined to get the last minute gifts on their list. In the Cafe there is a considerable amount of business but it's all done with an elegant flair. The subtle service and attentive waitstaff give the locale a comforting vibe.

Into the cafe enters Lucinda with her heavy winter cloak on… the almost abrasive chartreuse is a color that can't be ignored. In the light it shimmers, fading through all sorts of green with a slimy quality. This tall girl walks square shouldered in the establishment. Carefully, she removes a pair of earmuffs as she looks around and moves to find a seat.

Andromena is seated within the cafe already, alone but for an older gentleman seated across from her, but he obviously wasn't company as he peered into her empty tea cup. Not that he was dressed like one of the staff, either, but perhaps that was neither here nor there. The young woman seemed to look comfortable, leaning back casually within her chair as she watched the fortune teller. Eventually he looked up from his divination, and the discussion of what he saw began. His voice was rich and deep, but unless one was walking right up on the pair of them, the words would remain indistinct.

It is a trip to Diagon Alley, just past tea time, that has Edgar Carrow enter this establishment. Perhaps because he is not at Hogwarts, and his family insists that being sharply dressed is the only way to do /any/ business, he is clad in a slim-fitting black suit with a shirt of a dark blue shade. By his side, and literally by his side as she avoids contact of any sort with him, is Lea Rashley, whose cool and generally pleasant demeanor might conceal a certain annoyance.

It had taken a little work, but a few extra coins relieved the owner's concern about Variel's… guest. He had a seat at a booth, a little dish laid out beside the tea service they'd brought Variel. Occasionally, he sneaks something onto the dish, well hidden behind the tea service, a something which doesn't stay on the dish long at all.

One side table hosts a small cluster of middle-aged grownups, currently in the midst of mature discussion on… a fine point of Indian politics, from the few snatches of conversation that drift out into the general room. If one is interested in politics, it's fascinating. If one is not, it's dull, like rocks are dull.

You know who isn't interested in politics? Shazi Shafiq, who is stuck sitting between two of the most animated speakers (her parents, if a certain similarity of features are any indication.) The teenager is carefully dripping tea into her saucer, then using her finger to try and doodle with it. She keeps looking around in the shop, obviously hoping for some means of escape.

Conceal annoyance? No. Why ever would Lea want to do that. The look of displeasure is writ plainly on the girl's face including the slight curl of her nose for his obvious choice of establishments. "Really, Carrow? This is quite beneath even you I would think. But if you care to play the fool so easily relieved of his coin, by all means, invite the clowns to read your future." My goodness, she was in rare form. Rare form with the misfortune of complimenting Carrow in attire. The dress was dark blue, the hook-latch buttons of her dress a silver that was polished so brightly it gleamed white; complimenting the comfortable stole that draped her shoulders and the gloves, that went clear to her elbows. The darkness that rolled so easy in her eyes only growing wrose when she noticed the number of sheer students in the establishment and cast Carrow a smile that was positively chilling.

This was the sort of shop that coming in alone wasn't entirely unheard of- as such Lucinda makes her way a little further in. She moves to take a seat at a small table. Soon her server comes over and Lucinda does infact order tea and request a reading. Then as she sits there awaiting her order she shed a few of the more uneeded layers of her outfit. Her gloves, her scarf, the bold cloak. All carefully laid beside her in an empty chair. The silver waistcoat that accompanies her otherwise all black outfit is almost as garish as the cloak she just removed. It's a small wasitcoat done in a well tailored metallic color. A casual glance is cast to those entering now, a tiny little wave for Carrow accompanied by an almost smile when she spots her housemate. Lucinda does not get back up again though, glancing down instead at menu on her table.

"We are here for the Coffee, Rashley, as I am pretty sure my future involves pain, vindication, then more pain," Edgar replies in an almost cheerful tone to Lea, pulling her chair back for her to sit when they find a table for the two. "Slughorn," he greets Lucinda with an equally pleasant smile and nod, "Merry Christmas' Eve's Eve." Probably a terribly Muggle greeting, and an even worse pun but it's worth teasing the Rashley besides him with that, too. A waiter strides by, and he murmurs some orders before looking to Lea and smiling again. He whispers something to her.

Entrances, greetings, a housemate with relatives trying desperately to find a way to escape… but it's more fun to watch Shazi squirm over there! So he just watches idly as he feeds the snake curled on the table beside him, sipping at his tea while he does. He's thorough there, taking in the aroma and drinking the tea without adulteration.

Lucinda was looking at her menu after the wave, then he intones with her name and the shy girl allows her sidelong glance to climb back up to the duo. A tight lipped smile, "Indeed it is, Eve's eve…" She repeats the latter part softly, almost considering the notion more than making comment on it. The girl beside Carrow was one she knew by face but probably wasn't very well acquainted with the Ravenclaw. As such Lea gets a shy little nod devoid of much eye contact, dismissive in a way, "Merry Christmas," She offers, turning back to her menu as the two fall into whispers.

"I do not drink coffee, Carrow. It is the drink of the working man who operates on too little sleep to function. It also has a terrible smell. I drink tea. A gentlemen should know this," the young lady murmured and despite his merriment, her tone was one of thin barely concealed disdain. Ah, but to be so merry. The Slytherin Lucinda's greeting was returned with a, "Pleasant Holidays to you," before eventually her attention caught sight of the ginger and, "Weasley," broke decorum for but a moment to pitch her voice not to yelling, but to carrying, certainly in a greeting that was polite and didn't sound as if tapping it with a hammer might see it shatter in…ah. Carrow spoke again and too quiet to be heard. Her smile froze, even as she set to smoothing the wrinkles from her skirt.

Oh, Andromena is not really at all thrilled by her reading, though it's carefully disguised by a more neutral expression. Thankfully, even though the place was beginning to fill with fellow Hogwatians, none were close enough acquaintances that would be able to discern as much. The Ravenclaw was, if anything, quite capable of smothering her emotions. The fellow speaking to her looks amused, and he gestures to her tea cup as if making it a point to draw her attention to some obscure little shape only he really saw. Andromena dutifully obeyed, if only because she had no desire to make eye contact with anyone that would force her to acknowledge their school ties and thus greet them accordingly.

The conversation turns to recent provincial elections and their impact on the relationship between the British Ministry of Magic and its Indian counterpart, and Shazi - has had quite enough. "Baba, Mummy, I think I see someone from school -" and she's off, not risking giving her parents time to voice any potential objections. FREE! In the haste of her flight, she knocks half a saucer's full of tea onto her coat, a dark red affair that looks to be rather expensive, but hissed parental complaints make no impact. With a scurry she weaves her way through the shop, passing Edgar and Lea along the way (they are waved at, hastily) before, without asking permission, she makes free with sitting at Variel's table. "Weasley." The ginger is given a plaintive look. "Please tell me you're doing something fun."

"That may be so— Weasley, hello—" Edgar greets, before continuing to Lea, "Rashley, but it is a perfectly good hot brew nevertheless. However, as a gentleman must understand the lady's tastes and accomodate for them, we shall drink tea." Do they serve exotic spices like cinnamon in teas at this era? Maybe? He studies the Ravenclaw beside him's reactions to the whispers with a grin, murmuring something else quietly before he spots Andromena and greets that one with a wave and an enthusiastic, "Happy Holidays to you, Mena!" Being that they are good friends, it comes as no surprise that it's a bit more disruptive than his first greeting. Shazi earns a polite, "Shafiq," as the Gryffindor passes by.

Lucinda's tea service arrives at the table, anyone coming round to read the leaves would be back a little later. The attendant pours Lucinda a cup of tea and then steps away, striding off to attend to other tasks. The narrow shouldered girl takes the delicate tea cup with it's etched silver filigree in both of her slender hands. Carefully she looks down into the semi-clear liquid with a quiet conservation. A subtle swirl, enacted with hardly a motion from the graceful Cinda, causes the tea to slosh smoothly around the inside the cup. Nothing is allowed to escape but steam. It's with an introspective gaze that Lucinda watched the dredges in the bottom of her cup moving vaguely clockwise below the amber liquid. She seems distracted as other exchange pleasentries.

Variel lifts his own cup of tea towards Carrow and Rashley in greeting, along with a pleasant smile, which falters- in the "oh, no, something is going to go wrong" sort of way, not in any sort of distaste- as Shazi approaches, tea on her coat. "Ah- well, I'm having tea, same as you were, though perhaps my company's a tad more interesting?" He gestures to the snake on the table, curled up with its head in the little dish.

For all that Carrow may continue with his whispering, Lea sits posed as ever, smile polite but as uninviting as the chilled tundra of the north. "Tea may be too civilized a drink for one such as yourself, Carrow." The young woman offered, polite as she could possibly be and absolutely determined to give him as little attention as possible. "Weasley," not to be deterred, "You are looking rather dapper," since when had she ever complimented his hand sewn clothes? "Perhaps you and your…little friend, would care to join us? I did not see you on the train, much to my disappointment."

Andromena looks up from the tea cup, and the attentive gaze of the reader across from her. There's such a subtle shake of his head that it would be imperceptible to all who did not have the luxury of being directly across from him as she was. A smile touches her lips, and she lifts a hand in friendly greeting to Edgar.

"Edgar, hey! Merry Christmas," chimed in a sing-song voice. A further wave to Lea Rashley, because they were housemates and it would be just rude not to. Then her attention inevitably swings back to the man sitting with her, and he murmurs something that receives an equally inaudible reply. Andromena looked around, said something further, and then the diviner turned in his chair to regard Lucinda.

"Perhaps the young lady would care for my services when she is ready?" Came the deeply melodic, but heavily German-accented voice. This said to none other than Lucinda, of course. He remained seated with Andromena, but the impression he gave was one of height. His shoulders were broad and his dark suit exquisitely cut. Did fortune tellers really even make that much money? Apparently so.

Weasley, you wound. When has Shazi ever caused anything to go terribly wrong? "Listen," the girl says, earnestly. "If you don't say a word about the Indian National Congress, we will be friends forevermore. This is a golden opportunity for you, Weasley, don't mess it up." Her voice, as it tends to, rises steadily through these statements. The snake is noted, belatedly. She leans forward to peer at it with interest. "Cor. What kind is he?" Possibly she was about to say more, but Lea's comment intrudes on her thoughts, and the Gryffindor looks up, brows lifted.

Lucinda was just pulling the cup away from her face when the soothsayer turned his chair. She's taken a long sip of the hot beverage. "Soon." She agreed kindly to the man. This girl glances down into the tea cup again, "I'm taking my time with this one. I think." The vapid girl explained in her naturally disconnected fashion. Another, more demure, sip is taken. She cleared her throat softly after but does gesture at the chair across from her with a smile. The tea cup being set down with a tiny tink in it's saucer. "Please join me whenever you wish." She remarked, adjusting her waistcoat with an idle wander of her hands before they once again find her tea cup.

"Why, thank you, Rashley- your impeccable taste in fashion flatters me." He grins. "Don't ride the train often, seeing as how there's faster ways to get around. Besides, the family's pretty insistent on a good bit of time at home during the holidays. If I'd known I had hopes for conversation, I might have tried to slip out for a bit of comfort between home and London, though- I've disappointed us both, I'm afraid." He looks up in time to meet the escaping Shafiq. "Ah- I don't know a word to say about it, in truth, so I suppose that's settled! Friends it is." He glances at Rashley and Carrow and gives an amused shrug- why not? Then snake questions! "Well, I thought he was a grass snake, but I've heard suggestions he might be something else- we're working it out. Apparently, diet's one of the easier indicators, so I've got a checklist from the menagerie." To Rashley, "I'd love to join you."

"Uncivilized? Well that might be true, Rashley," Edgar starts laughing before it is suddenly cut with a look downwards, expression briefly flashing pain for a moment. Once their beverages are served, he thanks the waiting staff and pauses. Another murmur to the Ravenclaw beside him as he flashes Andromena a grin, briefly. "Come join us if your friend is seemingly distracted with Slughorn?" He also chimes to Lucinda, "Hey, being alone in the Holidays is no good. C'mere, Slughorn." No invitation was made to the tea-leaf-reader yet though.

Andromena's expression remains that of a finely wrought, albeit empty, porcelain mask as the soothsayer lays his hand atop her own, covering it utterly. Another quiet exchange and the man is on his feet, proving that he's only of average height but instead making up for it by sheer presence alone. Long golden hair is tied at the nape of his neck, and his equally golden beard is neatly trimmed…there's a small exception made for an utter lackadaisical air: geometric shapes have been carefully created with his sideburns. Otherwise the deep set green eyes and thin mouth are indicative of a very serious demeanor.

"Artur von Rhetz," says he as he reseats himself, now across from Lucinda. Andromena isn't afforded another glance. He knows she won't be going any where. And apparently, he is oblivious to Edgar Carrow's invitation to his latest patron.

Lucinda nods at the invite from Edgar. "Yes," She agrees amidst a smarmy smirk, "Just as soon as I get a chance to see what I'm getting from Santa," An antispectic chuckle. "I'll be right along Carrow." She jokes, her voice is not light and lilting like most girls her age. It's worth to note that the soft spoken Lucinda was heard in a somber alto that lacked any real emotion. Even her humor came a flavour most decidedly wry. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rhetz." The girl offered, watching him with a sort of study over the top of her tea cup during her next sip. It's lowered, empty to the dredges at this point. Lucinda offered the cup out to the fortune teller with a study in her slate grey eyes. "Please, tell me… everything." The odd girl insisted, handing him the cup.

Andromena is offered a wave, fellow housemate and female companion of her long standing friend Alphard. Though her eyes slide away from the room at large and back to Edgar in time to see that flicker of pain flash through his eyes. The girl almost smile at that. Almost. The corners of her lips certainly turned upwards just a smidge. They stayed there, rather than turn down as extended invitations were made. Hands folded neatly on her lap, at that point, her attention not on addressing his remark but on, "Brilliant, Weasley, I would love to have you. And that you find me impeccable I can only take as a compliment. I have been, I must admit, reconsidering my original notion in regards to allowing you to dress me, if, of course, you feel that you are still up to the task."

"The only task to which I've found myself less than up to is the one into which you and Carrow have been kind enough to share your insights, Rashley." The ginger grins as he moves his still-hot tea service to the popular table, settling with care given his right wrist, where Clever clung. As he set down the tray, the snake slid onto the tray and curled up just beside the tea pot, not quite against it.

Lea shifted somewhat, once again smoothing the wrinkles from her skirts.

"Oo, that's ominous. Just watch, he'll turn out to be all sorts of poisonous. You can set him on your enemies." Was Shazi invited to the popular table? No, and yet that does nothing to stop her from following Variel, with a cheery "Happy Christmas" to accompany her sitting down. With little discretion, she takes a peek towards her parents, checking to make sure they're sufficiently distracted by grownup discussion to not pay attention to their offspring.

Artur took Lucinda's tea cup between his hands; the nails were buffed to a high sheen as could be expected from the likes of the upper class, or at least those wanting to be posh. His knuckles were scarred, however. There was a prolonged moment of silence as the man gazed into her cup, brows coming together. With a quick, expertly done motion, Artur reversed the little vessel so that Lucinda could peer inside as well.

"Do you see the bat? It's painfully obvious," to him, anyway. Most all of it just looked like smudged tea leaves. "Typically it indicates false friends, or disappointing journeys…but if you pay close attention, you can see the broom behind it. So really this just denotes the Quidditch team. I…suspect a parent plays." On and on the reading went, picking out things about Lucinda nobody could just know! Or at least, things nobody could know unless they were really very clever, as well as observant. Being a wizard with some small talent in Divination actually also helped quite a lot. Artur was a good reader, truth be told. He had a manner and a voice that could captivate those he was entertaining, carefully pitched just so to fit certain moods or attitudes.

"Ah," Edgar grins over at Lucinda and then glances sidelong at Lea when she shifts on her chair, chuckling ever so slightly. He notices Andromena's expression and that grin turns into a wry smirk, before he tells Rashley, "Can you make clothes that button themselves up yet, Weasley? That might be a trinket our friend here would like to have, considering how she smoothes her clothes every so often," he replies with a pleasant tone as he continues to watch Artur's divination. "Nevertheless, what do you think of the reading?"

"My father is, indeed, the seeker for the Ballycastle Bats but…" Lucinda trails off giving him a surveying look as she fell silent so he may continue. She nods along to a few of the things, shaking her head at one point- then pausing and instead laughing at his ancedotal observation. "True, true." She agreed to something or another. Her arms remained crossed for the duration of the reading. She cranes her neck with curious intent at the times he turns the cup to her direction. She nods, clearing her throat as it starts to come to an end… or else he was hitting some subject she didn't /really/ want to hear about. "Fantastic." She agrees, one of her hands dips into an unseen pouch worn at her waist. A single galleon is set onto the table with a sharp snap as she rose to take her feet. "Thank you for you insights." She muttered, trying to suppress a genuine grin. The slight girl collects her pile of winter wear off the nearby chair and shuffles over to the table composed of her fellow school mates. She found a gap in the gathering, setting her chair in any available space. "Everyone all set with their shoppings?" She muttered, not sounding as if she cared but poised to be a certain sort of social thanks to breeding.

"Unlike you," Lea replied smoothly, without so much as looking in Edgar's direction, "Some of us do not struggle at all with our lessons and may animate things to do that without requiring someone else to come along and mend every mistake that we make. I simply choose not to look like such a.., well," that smile was chilling, the tone was bitter and both were aimed squarely at Edgar. "It would hardly be polite to say." And then, the look was gone, the smile was gone and her focus was on Variel so squarely that he might well have been the only other person in the establishment. "How is your small friend there fairing with the weather, hmm? It is not too cold for him, I hope. And your family, they are well?"

Variel looks towards Edgar with amusement. "Look here, Carrow, you're not pulling me into that- wasn't me invited a proper English lady out for -coffee.- Speaking of which, Rashley," he offers, gesturing to the tea service that the serpent is so diligently… protecting, yes, we'll go with protecting. "If you've a taste for a cup of Earl Gray, I've a hot pot ready here. Offer goes to all, of course, though I only got so many extra cups with the service."

"You know, actually, I'm pretty sure he is venomous, Shafiq," he remarks to Shazi, "but there's something of a constrictor to him as well… which apparently just means "snakes what squeeze things dead." Scary thought, if he was bigger."

As Rashley asks her questions, he replies in kind. "He's rather well, actually- figured he enjoys it bundled up about my wrist if I keep the sleeve closed. Plus he does like his tea services. Like a sunbath made of leaves and porcelain. And yep, family's excellent. Ma's still at St. Mungo's, and Da's still printing away." His voice carries both consternation and affection- he cares for his dad, clearly but his profession..?

Shazi finally makes note of the tea-reader, tilting back enough in her chair to take a look. For a silent moment, the girl observes. Then: "Wouldn't you like to have that job?" she asks the group at large, beaming. "You could give people just about any reading you like. Spin all sorts of wild futures for them." The Gryffindor reaches out and pours herself a cup of tea from the service, sitting with a surprising primness entirely at odds with her cheery pratter. "For example. I bet Weasley's leaves'll say his little friend is going to grow as big as a basilisk. And devour his enemies. Which means we need to draw up a list of enemies you need to make, because this is a golden opportunity." Pause for breath! To Lucinda, she adds, cheerful: "Still need to find something for my grandmum. What do you give old women, besides peace and quiet?"

Artur scooped up the galleon as Lucinda slipped from her chair to join her little gathering of friends. Unless any of them required his services, he'd return to Andromena. The man obviously got to work at his leisure. That or the diviners, like waiters, could only serve certain areas. Why he should continue sitting with her, however, was entirely up for debate. Maybe that table provided a good view for any potential customers.

Did someone mention constrictor? Andromena had only just seen one not that long ago! It was so big it could, to quote, break every bone in her body. How's that for romance?

"A smart looking piece of marble?" Lucinda returned to Shazi with a macabre smirk, then a subtle half shrug. "I don't know." She concedes in regards to gifts for the elderly. "Mine only ever wants for rare chocolates and the like. You'd think a love for sweets would sour with such advanced age." She hrms, shrugs and goes to pull her chair in a little closer to the table. "I ordered her some german confection by Owl- again." She rolled her eyes at the thought of her sweet but predictable Grandmother.

"I am not so uncouth, please. As I told her, we are having tea." Edgar smiles at Lucinda when she joins them, then looks to Lea as she speaks about struggling with lessons and using others to mend the mistakes made. "If you cannot solve something on your own, you seek help so you can achieve it, Rashley. And yes, I am not as talented in wizardry in general as you are, but we are very evenly matched in the one area that matters. I can, however, always get even better, and then, I think we would be on par." He pauses. "As for that, there is no possible way you could actually be one of those. I have said that you always look elegant."

"Getting a new broomstick for Christmas, Slughorn?" He looks at Andromena. "And you, Mena? What are you getting?"

It wasn't a library, but the girl simply seemed to be naturally…no. Instead, Lea smiled at Variel. "I would love a cup of tea," hadn't Edgar ordered for her? Didn't he just point that out? "Thank you, Weasley, that would be most kind of you." And while she may have curled her nose at the mention of working as a tea reader the look of disdain was mild enough. Mention of basilisks left entirely alone. As was Edgar's 'uncouth'ness and his mention of getting better. Though one could have likely seen the flicker of defiance in her eyes when she proceeded to go right on and add, "And I am pleased to hear that your family is doing well. It is quite a trying career your mother holds is it not? I can not imagine the patience of those who work as healers, but I have it on very good authority that she will likely to be tending to Carrow here very soon if you do not make a gentlemen of yourself and offer to walk me home."

Lucinda returns the smile from Edgar, she would have likely sat nearby since he was her only housemate present and the fellow that invited her to the table. From a few seats over she leans forward and raises her brows. "Probably not, I just got one in November for my birthday. Brand new Silver Arrow, silver pine tail with a polished yew grip." Her practiced gestures as she spoke about the broom almost carve it's image in the air for a fleeting second. "It's the same model Da uses in Ballycastle." The girl explained and as she spoke of familiar things her disconnected voice seemed to gain some warmth. After she says her piece though she fall silent, looking around the circle as she absorbed the Christmas gossip and measured her wish list against those of the other Pure-Blood brats.

"Oh ho ho ho, Happy Christmas! Here's something for your tomb." Shazi BEAMS at Lucinda. Her voice as she says this, it is not quiet. That's all but a given with this particular Shafiq, though, isn't it? "If it weren't for the part where my parents would rake me over the COALS, I might well do it. And - oh, you have a Silver Arrow? How's it handle? I've been mad to try one, but," her nose wrinkles, "with my Potions grades, there's no way there's going to one waiting for me in two days' time." A dramatic gesture of good-humored martyrdom follows. And then, quite earnestly: "Not that I'd want them spending the money on me, anyway, not really."

Variel was, by the look of slight surprise, unaware that Edgar had ordered. He'd had Rashley and Shafiq in each ear, and must have missed it. He moves to pour when Lea indicates she'd like a cup anyway, and manages to stifle his momentary freeze when he hears Lea's blatant threat towards Carrow. "Right, well! Ma's hard pressed as it is, I'd be in the kettle myself if I came home responsible for overtime. Rashley, perhaps I could do you the honor of an escort home for the good of all involved?" He glances Shazi's way as he waits for a response. "I -do- hope that Clever doesn't turn out to be QUITE so lethal. I'm not sure how I'd keep him fed."

"I couldn't begin to guess, Edgar," Andromena answers with a shrug of her shoulders. "My family does enjoy keeping things a surprise. I should assume some books will be numbered amongst my gifts, surely." Because what sort of Christmas would that be if she didn't receive any!? She was very much tempted to say: I'll bet our friend here could tell us, but refrained. Her smile was broad, even if Andromena did not really feel it.

"What about you? Are there any particular gifts you're just burning to see under the tree?" The young woman rested her chin upon her laced-together-fingers as she regarded the group in general.

"I don't know what I will get for Christmas, to be honest. Let us hope something pleasant, but, I think that won't be the case." Edgar replies, with a faint shrug. He watches Lea, as she stands from their table and goes to Variel's, then the Weasley, very quietly. His attention falls on the Rashley again and he looks to Lucinda, leaning forward as she does. "Make a list, make sure it does not involve antler jinxes, and who knows something will fall down the chimney," he mentions with a grin to his Slytherin and Ravenclaw friend near him. "You know, Weasley, I doubt she'd go as far put me in a hospital bed. The mere notion of it just revulses Rashley."

"I don't know what I will get for Christmas, to be honest. Let us hope something pleasant, but, I think that won't be the case." Edgar replies, with a faint shrug. He watches Lea and then the Weasley, very quietly. His attention falls on the Rashley again and he looks to Lucinda, leaning forward as she does. "Make a list, make sure it does not involve antler jinxes, and who knows something will fall down the chimney," he mentions with a grin to his Slytherin and Ravenclaw friend near him. "You know, Weasley, I doubt she'd go as far put me in a hospital bed. The mere notion of it just revulses Rashley."

Lucinda snerks at Shazi, a sharp chuff of a laugh that ends before it starts. "It handles like a dream, hardly any feedback so you don't have to deal with the weird vibrations you sometimes get off a Shooting Star in strong winds." Lucinda offered this intel quite matter-of-factly. It's an astute set of observations about an excellent broom. Then Edgar leans forward and she does as well in a gesture of mock conspiracy; inclining her ear just so and nodding as he spoke. She smirks to his advice. Slipping back with a chesire confidence she added, "I'll make sure not to light the hearth this year then." She near challenged, looking afterwards to Andromena. "Books." She chirped in a way that doesn't really glean any sort of opinion. Yet, she looks as if something cheeky sat just upon the tip of her tongue.

"Spoilsport," Shazi tells Variel, cheerfully. "But fine. A giant boa constrictor, then. You can feed him on milk. That's what snakecharmers give their cobras." (A piece of advice one can only hope Variel doublechecks before inflicting on Clever.) She falls silent for a moment, on account of tea, before grinning at Lucinda. "Lucky! Remind me to bribe you into letting me try it sometime." Andromena's question has her pursing her lips in thought. "Um! I get curios, usually, just little things. So I s'pose I don't have my heart set on anything too enormous. I'd like a new broom or a new crystal ball, but if I don't get them, and I doubt I will, then…" She shrugs, obviously not put out.

Andromena was sorely tempted to tell Edgar that he had not actually answered her question. Maybe the fact that he was submitting himself to Hell from Lea Rashley had something to do with it…but then, wouldn't a certain someone advise her that that was all the more excuse to dig in? People that asked to be tormented always deserved more. Andromena got to her feet, reaching for her robes as she did so.

"It was nice seeing you all before the holiday," said happily enough as she shrugged the fur-lined article on. "But I had better be going." Everyone would be bid a polite farewell before Andromena made her way out of Cafe Tasseo; the redoubtable Artur von Rhetz in not long in following after. He hadn't ever been part of the staff, you see.

"Fantastic," Lea replied to Variel, when he agreed to accompany her. "Then, let us be off, if you would be so kind," the young lady implored before rising neatly to her feet and smoothing at her skirts. "Then let us be off. Carrow," the boy earned a polite and entirely too stiff bow of her head, "Good day," was the all too formal departure for the rest, before attentive eyes turned in Weasley's direction expectantly.

Variel offers the chilly blonde his arm in gentlemanly fashion after coaxing Clever up the sleeve opposite her. He guides Rashley out, having paid in advance for the tea service, and makes sure the others know they're welcome to the tea and cakes, still warm, as he escorts Lea from the premises and home.

"I must be off." Edgar declares suddenly, places a coin on the table and departs it without further ado. Something in his expression might be called vicious, but that was only a flicker. And one too brief to appreciate as he goes home as well.

"Bother," is Shazi's cheerful complaint. "If you're all leaving, it's back to the parents with me." But she takes her sweet time about it, because there's tea and cakes in front of her. And wasting food isn't really in the Christmas spirit, is it? Of course it isn't.

"I should probably be making my way back home, lots to wrap." Lucinda muttered softly, rising to her feet and shrugging back into her own cloak. "You can walk with me, if ya like Carrow… I don't mind the /uncouth/…" Lucinda chuckled, attempting to copy Lea's accent on the right word. She continues to bundle up, offering that chummy declaration as she followed after the broody one.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License