Finishing Up

[Aethie White]

It'd been a bit of a long day. Weekends were always particularly busy at the Leaky Cauldron. Aethie glanced up at the clock on the wall over the door from where she stood behind the bar, spasmodically wiping the counter with a dirty rag. Ten more minutes and her shift was officially over...then she could go home and finish reading Padril's book. Her dog-eared copy of the novel lay on the counter, looking a little forlorn - she supposed bringing it to work and leaving it on the bar for people to spill drinks on/near hadn't been such a great idea. With a tiny sigh, she pulled out her wand and began siphoning up a small puddle of Butterbeer off of the counter.

[Padril Crennent]

Padril entered the bar, looking dirty and worn, but also energetic. He had a Hawaiian shirt on with shorts that had tears in them. He carried a broom over his shoulder and was whistling merrily. He hadn't flown properly in ages, but this weekend he had absolutely strained every muscle in his body in order to enjoy his sport and he felt fit and happy. There was nothing quite like the feeling of every fiber in tour body burning.

This one of the first weekends he had free of reporting and, rather than continue to write his novel, he had decided to go outside. He had no regrets, however, the novel was nearly complete and he was more than satisfied with most of it. The Nimbus 2001, the broom he had since he owned a quidditch store, was still smooth and agile, though it had stains and a couple of scratches on it from where Padril failed a couple of the more tricky maneuvers.

He was thirsty, but still full of energy. He still had to do things. Not really paying attention to his surroundings, he sat down at a table, resting the broom against the chair. Maybe some clubs? Dressed like this? Why the hell not?!

[Aethie White]

Aethie, off in her own little reverie, was continuing to clear things up. As she made her way across the room, heading for the back, she took the pins from her hair and shook her head slightly, letting the loose brown waves tumble down her back. God, it felt good to have her hair down after spending eight hours with those damn pins sticking into her scalp.

Oh - my book. She spun on her heel, heading back to the counter where the book sat, bedraggled, and snatched it up before catching sight of a lone figure sitting patiently at a table, his face partially covered by shadow. Aethie gave a soft sigh. So close, she thought wistfully, glancing back at the door. And I just got my hair down.

Her hands strayed back into the fluffy mass of hair, attempting to tie it back, but after a moment or two of fighting with it, she gave up. Technically she was supposed to keep her hair up...but what the hell, she was off in ten minutes anyway. And Tom wasn't even there. So who would ever know?

"Hi there, what can I get you?" she asked cheerfully, heading towards him. Only when she'd got close enough to touch him did she recognize him. "Oh - Padril! Hi! What - what are you doing here?" She glanced around, half-expecting to see Harley and Jaden walk in. "Were we...did I get the day wrong?"

[Padril Crennent]

"Hmm?" Padril looked up suddenly, his foot knocking the broom, which fell with a crash to the ground. He bent down to pick up the broom and placed it next to him on the chair, his hand keeping it steady. "Oh, hey Aethie.'

He shook his head, "No, no, I was just thirsty. But..." he eyed her loose hair, he supposed she was able to get off her shift when he had walked it. That made sense. Which meant...

"Want to do something?" he asked. He twirled the broom on it's handle with his hand while he talked, rather aware of what he looked and smelled like. He needed a shower, rather desperately. What was more, he didn't usually care about his appearance, which must mean he was pretty bad.

[Aethie White]

Aethie felt a warmth travel down her throat and settle near the base of her spine; it was a feeling much like the one you get from drinking Butterbeer. A smile spread slowly across her face as she looked down at Padril. "Sure! I just have to get changed..." She looked down at her drab grey-green uniform and made a bit of a face. Tom was a lovely fellow, but he really had no fashion sense whatsoever...Aethie looked about as attractive as a mimbulus mimbletonia. "Give me five minutes."

She was uncomfortably aware as she headed to the back that she hadn't showered in a day and a half; and although it was still May, the day had been warm, and she'd been busy, and a thin film of dried sweat clung to her skin and made her feel just a little bit sticky. Luckily, her hair didn't look too greasy...she could leave it down. She slipped into a bright blue tank top and denim shorts, stuck her feet into flip-flops, did a hurried spot-check of her face in the grimy mirror over the bathroom sink and then made her way back to Padril with a brown leather rucksack slung over her left shoulder.

Now that she was actually looking at him, he wasn't much cleaner than her. In fact, they were both kind of smelly and dirty. What a glorious couple we make, she thought sarcastically to herself, as she shook her head and gave a small chuckle.

[Padril Crennent]

Padril nodded as she left to get change, twirling the broom again in his fingers. What was he meant to do with it? He could hardly bring it to the clubs. And he had no money and he wasn't going to scam off Aethie. He had his morals, possibly the reason he had technically sunk beneath the International Poverty Line. Maybe the clubbing wasn't such a good idea.

He stood up, about to tell Aethie that maybe he'd just go home, when he saw her walk out. He had known Aethie was good-looking but he had never felt anything towards her, it was always Jaden that occupied his thoughts in that subject. But when she came from out the back, hair loose, body dirty and stinking of sweat, with that perfect, implacable honesty and comfort with herself, he began to push Jaden ever so slightly out of his mind. Maybe he could properly enjoy himself tonight with some harmless flirting?

"Any idea where I could throw this?" he asked, lifting the broomstick into his other hand.

[Aethie White]

"Um..." Aethie glanced around, biting her lip as she thought. "Well, it'd probably be safe under the bar. We can come back and grab it later. Or -" She stopped suddenly. She had been about to suggest that Padril could just leave it at her flat, as she lived about two blocks away - but she didn't want him to misconstrue her meaning. Better not to mention anything. She took the broomstick from Padril and placed it carefully in the cupboard under the counter behind a few rolls of paper towels and some coasters. "There," she said, wiping her hands on her shorts and smiling at Padril. "So...what's the plan?"

[Padril Crennent]

"Thanks," Padril was confident people wouldn't take the broom, having more faith in the general good will of humanity than most people. He scratched his chin as he thought about what they could actually do. No way would any proper clubs let them in dressed like this, unless..

"We could confound one of the bouncers at a muggle club," Padril thought out-loud. "And transfigure something to look like muggle money to get drinks." He looked at one of the windows that led to muggle London. "We could just get a taxi ride to the nearest club, so we really can't get lost or anything."

He wasn't usually a person to use magic on muggles, but he kind of needed this win. Jaden was as oblivious as ever and work kept him in the corner. This was a chance to just enjoy himself.

[Aethie White]

"Hmm." Aethie stroked her chin thoughtfully as she considered this. Truth be told, she didn't really like the idea of confunding Muggles and using counterfeit money. Nor was she really a 'club' kind of girl...ear-splitting music and over-priced, watered-down drinks were so not her idea of a good time. "We could..." she said slowly, still thinking.

"Well look," she said finally. "My flat is about five minutes away from here...I could run and change into something nicer, and I think I've got some Muggle money lying about. I mean...that won't really help you, I suppose, but I could check in the back, see if one of the other bartenders left a shirt here or something? Maybe you could borrow it?"

[Padril Crennent]

Padril made a raspberry, "And the chances of it being my size and not smelling of sweat as well?" He clicked his tongue, spotting how Aethie had avoided the clubs suggestion. She didn't like them, he supposed, or the moral implications of bewitching muggles. "Or..." Padril began as inspiration hit him.

"You like music, right? Let's have jam session!" The edges of his lips lifted, indicating he was smiling. "I know piano and guitar. We can move instruments to one of our flats," Not mine he thought privately, a little embarrassed about it's complete furnishings and shitty building, "and just rock out."

[Aethie White]

Aethie's eyes lit up. "You play?" she asked excitedly. Aethie had taken piano lessons for nearly six years as a child, and still loved to play. She'd recently bought a second-hand acoustic guitar and begun teaching herself chords. Her piano training had definitely come in handy, and she had made quite good progress. "Well like I said, my flat is right around the corner - I've got an acoustic there. Or would it be easier to go to your flat...?"

All of a sudden, Aethie was shy. Would Padril think she was hitting on him if she invited him up to her flat? Yes, she liked him - but she definitely wasn't thinking anything along the lines of - well, sex. Was he? Well, he's a guy. Of course he's thinking about it. That doesn't mean he's going to DO anything about it! And anyway, he's a gentleman. He'll respect me.

Even so, she determinedly avoided his eye as a rose-red blush bloomed on her cheeks. "Actually, what do you say we have a drink here before heading off?" Without waiting for a reply, she headed behind the counter and began mixing herself a vodka cranberry. "What d'you want?"

There - now she had bought herself some time to determine exactly what was on Padril's mind.

[Padril Crennent]

"I play," Padril admitted. "Music has always been a successful outlet of abstract thinking. I just haven't followed it all the way through, it's been more of a hobby, really." He sat on one of the stools, then shrugged.

"Your flat is closer," then nodded when she suggested drinking. "And we can stagger over if we get stone drunk." She blushed over something, Padril wasn't paying enough attention to realize what, and then jumped to make a drink. Not wanting her to know his extensive knowledge of alcohol (alcoholics tend to have quite a wide recollection of such drinks), he just placed a purposely mocking English accent on. "I'll have whatever you're having."

[Aethie White]

Aethie smiled at Padril's fake accent, and poured a second vodka cranberry for him. "Cheers," she said, clinking her glass with his before drinking deeply. The sharp tang of the cranberry juice masked the strength of the vodka, and she finished her drink almost before she realized it. Better pace yourself, Aethie... a tiny voice warned in the back of her head, but she ignored it. Already though, she was feeling pleasantly warm and tingly - she'd never really had a high alcohol tolerance.

"Music!" she said suddenly, standing up. "Hang on - I'll turn on the radio." She snatched up her wand and tapped it against the wireless on the counter. Low music began trickling from the speakers. "What d'you usually listen to?" she asked, fiddling with the knobs on the front of the radio.

[Padril Crennent]

"Whatever's good," he threw the drink into the back of his throat, the drink hitting him strongly. He wasn't usually so into drinking but tonight he felt energetic. He shook his head a bit, then refilled his glass from his stool. "I'm in the mood for something with a good beat." He wished he could play drums. Maybe that could be his next thing?

He looked over the Cauldron, "What, is the Cauldron closed now?"

[Aethie White]

"The actual bar is closed," Aethie replied, finding a rock station and turning it up. "The inn's still open though."

She went back behind the bar and poured more drinks. The song on the radio had a good beat to it, and her head and shoulders were keeping in time with the beat. She handed Padril his drink and downed hers, grimacing slightly - she'd mixed these ones with a slightly heavier hand, and the cranberry wasn't able to completely mask the taste of the vodka.

She poured herself a third drink, and hopped back onto the stool beside Padril, nearly missing it altogether; she lost her balance for a second and grabbed onto the counter to catch herself. For some reason, this struck her as incredibly funny and she began to laugh.