(1938-12-26) Not a Student
Details for Not a Student
Summary: Chaucer confuses Rhyeline as a student and doesn't believe her at first when she tries to tell him what she does.
Date: Thursday, December 26, 1938
Location: Leaky Cauldron

Chaucer is in here for some reason. A rather lonely way it seems to spend Christmas but he didnt seem to mind, instead reading from a rather thin paperback book while drinking tea, looking somewhat Father Christmasely with his half bald head, his eyeglasses and white greyish hair. He's stayed here the entire Christmas, and was still here now the day after.

Morning comes as calm and bright as the night before. The wizarding workforce trudges back to work with great begrudging. Rhyeline steps into the Leaky Cauldron and hesitates at the door. Tucking a loose wisp of a curl behind her ear, her dark gaze drifts across the establishment. No one is present to listen to, to take in the morning chatter over the latest Daily Prophet. She seems to consider contiuing on through into Diagon Alley, when she notices Chaucer, sitting alone.
Hands clasped behind her back, the little one comes to stand at his table. "Good morning…"

Chaucer glances up, then a little down to peer "Ah. Hello Rhyeline. Merry Christmas. What brings you this way? " he asks, pushing a chair out with his foot for her as the book is set down, place marked with an old tattered cloth bookmark.

"Mm… just- just an errand… but… I- I wanted to mention that- that I haven't forgotten… I just- I haven't had a chance to speak to my- my father yet…" murmurs Rhyeline. Having stumbled a bit over her words, she bites her lower lip and turns a bit pink.

"Ah. No worries. It /is/ Christmas and things will be a little slow. I haven’t been back to work in a week anyways." he remarks "Have a seat though. Really." a glance to the guardwitch, and then back once more "Don’t be so nervous. I may be gruff, but I don’t bite." he reassures. or tries to

Rhyeline shifts her weight, a bit hesitant when he invites her to join him. She sneaks a small peek over at her guard before looking once more to Chaucer. "I… Thank you, sir…" she murmurs. She eases into the chair with a rather slow, careful grace. Her dark gaze lingers upon his book with a quiet curiosity. As the daughter of a famous author, no doubt she has a great passion for books.

It was a worn little book, with handwritten words through most o it, although a quarter of it near the back looked 'cleaner' somehow. He sips his tea again "How long do you have? Long enough for a tea? Are you returning to school soon?" he asked.

Rhyeline gives a little nod when asked if she has time for tea. However, at the mention of school, the girl blinks, looking a bit lost. Realizing he has mistaken her for a student, her subtle blush deepens. "Sir, I… I am not- not a student…"

Chaucer peers again in surprise "Really. Are you done school then or about to return?" he asked her, somewhat surprised and eyeing her more critically now. He sipped his tea a second time, eyes staring intently.

"I've finished… I- I work as- um… a- a bit of a researcher…" she tells him, cheeks glowing with warmth. A barwench stops to ask what Rhyeline would care to drink. She asks for a cup of tea with a splash of milk.

Chaucer raises an eyebrow critically "I see." he states, looking quite doubtful. "Sorry, I cannot belive you are that old or work as a researcher with that kind of meekness." he dismisses, sitting back with an air of finality.

Rhyeline gazes up at the elder wizard, looking rather lost. "I… I am. When I left Hogwarts, I- I first worked for the I.M.C… as- as an assistant to an Ambassador. But then, I- I went to work for the Unity Party… as Cassius Malfoy's assistant… But- due to my health, I- I am more of a researcher now…"

Chaucer mmmhmmms. But he still doesnt look convinced as he frowns at her deeply "If you arent a meek little student, then perhaps you shoudl stop acting like one. Have a good day, RHyeline. I do look forwards to talking to your father though." he picks his book up and goes back to reading it without another word.

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