confringo

   It was strangely invigorating to trail someone he knew. It had happened before, of course it had, but this was different. His office hoped to round up a few more prominent names, ones who could’ve been involved in the Minister’s death, or with the missing auror that nobody would acknowledge, or with the graves. Admittedly, the last one still made Ziya hesitate. He wasn’t squeamish, knew well the lengths people went for their purposes, but to disturb a grave? Well, it wasn’t something he’d be willing to do. The name that came across his desk though? He wouldn’t be surprised. Despite that, they’d been friends. They’d laughed together, shoved one another around, had complained about meddling older brothers together. He’d hunt him down anyway. He’d bring him to heel and deposit him before some power hungry auror for interrogation, and in the process? He’d chase the high. He was itching for a fight. 

    He continued, eyes sweeping his surroundings. There was still snow, though the February snow seemed more slush than anything, grey and dirty beneath his feet. Lights were still on, though many curtains had been drawn at this hour. In the distance he could hear a dog barking, and an owner trying to quiet it, to bring it inside. Overall, it was quiet, but he knew he’d gone in the right direction. He approached the building, drawing his wand, eyes narrowed as he moved. He caught a flash of color, a grin spreading as he called out, voice taunting. “Back to old habits mate? You’re making it to easy.” He purred, before looking back out once more. He’d check before entering the building, but checking meant seeing someone else. He cursed under his breath, straightening up. “You shouldn’t be here right now.” He warned, straying near the building. He didn’t want them caught up in this. It was dangerous. “Go home.” He commanded, voice firm. 

location: diagon alley

“Alright. That’s enough of that.” She put the bell down, muttering a few words before the ringing stopped. It wasn’t uncommon for her to come by the shops she had worked on to make sure everything was working properly. It’s what brought her to the bell on the door. It had been charmed to ring loudly when the door opened when the shop was closed but it seemed to stop reacting to the spell when it was time to open. It was easy enough to replace it with another. She’d have to take a look and make sure no foul play was involved. She said goodbye to the shop owner and stepped back out into the alley. She was by the owl emporium when one flew out of the shop, startling her. It was enough to get the bell going again in her pocket. “Bloody hell,” she said, pulling the bell out to try and get it to stop. “You’ve made your point. No need to deafen the entire alley.” 

-

  Ziya watched as Alphard’s wife worked on the bell, infuriatingly ringing across the entire alleyway. She was beautiful, he’d give Alphard that, but to ruin one’s legacy? He couldn’t imagine she was worth it. It was infuriating, wasn’t it? The Black family had centuries of purity of course, but even with it’s rotten stems, no one would ever suggest the family being anything but entirely pure. He leaned forward, rolling his shoulders as he pushed off the wall and approached, drawing his wand as he flicked it toward the bell. “You’re causing a nuisance, Mrs. Black. Allow me to take care of that.” He insisted, having done so already without first asking. 

I think with my heart and I move with my head I open my mouth and it's something I've read I stood at this door before, I'm told But a part of me knows that I'm growing too old

1. Always stepping back into each other’s ways when crossing paths in the Ministry, but it’s fine because it’s funny and eventually they get to where they need to go. Plus it gives them 0.5 seconds to focus solely on that. 

2. Ziya being endlessly curious about what it is Charlie does, but knowing better than to (openly) ask. He admires the hell out of them though, and the work being done. It’s fascinating even if he knows very little. What he does know is enough.

galya was startled by the last question, all day people had been running around with their minds on the minister, no one had stopped to wonder how she had been. she looked up through her lashes, “mister padgett” she let out with a sly smile. although much older than her, ziya padgett was still quite attractive to look at. “i’ll have you know you’re the first person today to ask that?” unlike her friendly facial expression, her tone was mostly even, if showcasing a bit of her amusement. “i’m fine, thank you. have you been doing okay?” galya asked, gesturing for the other to take a seat, “true, my department has been swamped with work, i imagine the same about yours – but, like you said, you’re not here to discuss business… what would you rather talk about?” her smile widenned.

-

  Ziya inclined his head at her greeting. “I’ll take great pride in being the only person then, with sense.” He smirked, though he couldn’t help but sympathize. How many times had she been asked if she was alright for other purposes, outside of her career, and her independence as a person? No doubt she was plagued with so called well-meaning individuals asking after the loss of her engagement. He wasn’t obtuse. “I’m glad to hear you’re well.” He nodded, “I’m fine as well. It’s busy, of course, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It’s much preferred to idleness, then they get creative with assignments, and trust me, you never want that.” He quipped, amused. He moved to sit, leaning back in his chair. “Anything else?” He laughed, “Truly, I sat down because it looked like you needed a break from people driving you mad. “Though, if you’re open to side work. I have a letter, I’m wondering if you might be interested in translating?” he asked, lowering his voice a bit to not be overheard. 

OPEN || literally anywhere but the Hog’s Head

Abe loved the faces of people realizing they were seeing him outside of the pub; playing up the part of hermit was one of the things he enjoyed most, so, naturally, their shock (and sometimes confusion) fueled him. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, speaking with a grin, “It’s okay, you’re not seeing things. I’m allowed to leave the pub, I double-checked with my legal counsel.”

-

   “Did you now?” Ziya smirked, eyeing his cigarette. He hadn’t smoked in awhile, but he didn’t mind it in the least. “Wise of you, to seek legal counsel before engaging in such controversial habits.” He teased, eyes creasing at the edges as he smiled. He paused, “have one to spare?” He asked, gesturing to his cigarette. It wasn’t his plan, but perhaps there was something to be said about chance meetings. “It’s been awhile, Aberforth.” He noted. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, these days. Admittedly, most of his previous encounters hadn’t exactly been above board. 

who: open

where: diagon alley? hogsmeade?

Cygnus had been advised to lay low for a while, but Vega had chewed through yet another leash and so he found himself in search of a pet store. Get dogs, they’d said, much easier than horses. Absolute lies, Nyx and Vega could be just as much of menaces as Juno when they put their minds to it.

He was reminded of why he’d been advised to lay low, however, when someone approached. “Before you say anything,” he sighed, “do you actually think I’m capable of that magic?”

-

   “I do, actually.” Ziya raised a brow, watching Cygnus. “But I don’t think you have the motivation to.” He added, before Cygnus could get angry. “You’re a capable wizard, don’t sell yourself short.” He shrugged. Cygnus was no doubt capable of significant magic, dark and otherwise, but did he care to practice it? Did he have any desire to put forth the effort? That was another question altogether. “Relax. I’m not here to interrogate you.” He sighed. He had much bigger fish to fry, and a hell of a lot of other duties to tend to. Cygnus Black wasn’t his problem, nor did he feel Cygnus should be anyone’s. 

    He watched him a moment longer before shrugging. “If you don’t want to draw attention to yourself, though, I’d scale back the pissed off look.” He advised, though Cygnus hadn’t asked for it. He looked ready to curse someone, in his professional opinion, and that didn’t bode well for keeping others at bay. 

Heat crept up her neck and cheeks as he touched her hand. He had always had a talent for causing this sort of reaction with her. Leaving her speechless in their younger years. Now, it wasn’t so easy to leave her without words. Persephone had learned how to compose herself and conduct herself around others–or rather Ziya. It had, in fact, been several years since she had given him a reading. At the time, she had just been learning and coming into her talent when it came to the cards, tea leaves and the like. Now her talent was more honed. More defined. Though that didn’t mean that her readings hadn’t had a knack for being accurate even in the early days.

“That it has,” she agreed, “It’s been over a decade. I believe the last I gave you a reading we were in our fifth year.” Seph fought the blush that threatened to heat her cheeks at his compliment. “You don’t look half bad yourself,” she quipped, “I’ll be here as long as I’m welcomed. Or until I run out of those who want a reading.” Persephone let her eyes sweep the room. Judging by the looks of things she would be running out of guests quickly. A smirk crossed her lips as he tapped on the cards before them. Her hands were quick to shuffle the cards. Letting the four that had their message fall in place on the table. As the final card dropped, she began to flip them over one by one. 

Seph pointed to the top card. “This is you,” she began, “The deck recognizes you as the Knight of Pentacles. Someone who shows stability and security.” Her eyes flickered to Ziya now. Her head tilted slightly to one side as she smiled at him endearingly. “The cards are hardly ever wrong. This one,” Seph pointed to the card on her left, “is what is to come. The Tower represents chaos, destruction and an unforeseen change as well as liberation. A major arcana is a message that one must pay careful attention to.” Her stomach flipped, tying itself in a knot. Getting a card like The Tower was usually never a good thing, but she supposed with the way the world was going that it was a warning. Again, her eyes flickered up to meet his. Lingering for but a moment before drifting back to the cards, her finger moving to the middle card. “The Six of Swords is representation of new beginnings and change. It tells of what you have to focus on. The final card is the future or the outcome of what is to come. The Five of Wands speaks of strength and conflict. What I see is these new changes are going to try you. They will bring much conflict in your life but also strengthen bonds. However, you must not lose sight of the new beginnings that this chaos is about to bring.”

-

  Ziya noted the way color danced up the length of Persephone’s neck, but he was a gentleman enough not to comment on it. It would be hypocritical of him. After all, she was skilled at making him flustered too. Their chemistry had grown over the years, but he wasn’t sure what to make of it. There were certain expectations he still needed to navigate. It didn’t stop the way he openly admired her. She was stunning and she damn well knew it. Brat. His lips turned up as he accepted the returned compliment. “Has it truly been over a decade?” he mused. How time had passed, much had changed since his last reading. No doubt things were only beginning to change, he could feel it, and he didn’t need the deck to tell him that. He admired her talent though, and it wouldn’t hurt him to get a reading.

   He watched as she flipped the cards and explained as she went. Knight of Pentacles. He could appreciate that. He wanted to be stable, and steadfast. He’d protect her, should it come to it, but he imagined it went beyond just his desire to keep her safe. He caught the comment, eyes softening as he stayed quiet, letting her continue. The cards didn’t seem eager to give him an easy future, but then, he hadn’t been expecting one. He’d just noted the chaos coming, and weren’t they in it now? It was beginning. The death of a minister was no small feat, but he’d be a fool to think it was the largest thing to come. “New beginnings,” he murmured. Hadn’t he been doing that? Much had changed since he’d been a teenager, and he had many questions yet unanswered, choices still not made. Conflict would build him up, as much as it tested him. He’d come out the other side stronger, he’d be sure of it. He’d carve back his place in the world brick by brick if he had to. “I’ll find comfort in that, strengthened bonds sound like something to look forward to.” He reached his hand out, squeezing over Persephone’s as he said it. “Thank you, darling. As always, you’re excellent at reading.” He purred. “I know you said you’d like to give more, but perhaps you could be persuaded to join me instead? My treat?” He offered. 

She was never disappointed to see Ziya – especially not because that usually meant Orpheus was there, and Ziya wasn’t wrong, though they couldn’t have known the other agreed with them on that front, because it was something Agnes would never voice – but she also hadn’t been expecting to see him so early, either, and found herself genuinely surprised as she reached the bottom of the staircase. “Gifts?” she repeated, laughing through her curious smile as she returned his cheek kiss, “Plural?” Of course, her laughter (and her surprise, and amusement) grew as he put his money where his mouth was (for lack of a better idiom at this moment) and left Agnes’ eyes darting between her hands and his face like an excited child on Christmas morning. “What?! What do you need to work twice as hard for? You’ve already done it, you’re here now, you’ll be here later, that’s twice, what’s the problem?” she teased.  

As he continued, though, the amusement on her face very swiftly and clearly turned to blatant confusion. “What do you mean this one’s from Orpheus? Where’s Orpheus, then? Did something happen?” It wasn’t that she was surprised (in a bad way) by Orpheus outstripping everyone in comparison to what most people might have up their sleeve today, but now she was getting Orpheus gifts via their friends? What had necessitated the enlistment of delivery people? She had so many questions that she simply couldn’t pick. “You are family, Ziya, you know that.” Eyeing the parcels in her hands wasn’t getting her any answers, though, and Agnes’ curiosity limit was about to reach its’ peak. “And because you’re family, you have to tell me what’s going on. What’s in here? What’s happening? Something is happening, I can smell it, what is he up to?” she squinted for a moment, staring him down, hard, then gave it up an instant later with a sigh. They were friends, yes, and they had Orpheus in common, but Ziya was Orph’s man through and through, and she respected that.  “You’re not going to tell me are you? … Can I open them?”

-

   Seeing Agnes smile was satisfying. There was no denying that he cared about her, even if he claimed that his relationship with her was largely by extension. They both knew the truth of the matter, and he wanted to see her happy, and cared for. It was especially true that she felt that way for her birthday, anything else would just be wrong. He leaned into the kiss to his cheek, laughing along with her. “Of course, plural. Agnes, you have met yourself, haven’t you?” He teased, though it was true. “That’s not exactly what I meant darling, but thank you. I appreciate the approval.” He smirked. “I mean only to say that I’d like to keep up with Orpheus here, but it seems he’s gone off the deep end this year and simply won’t be matched by anyone.” He confessed. He didn’t care to fight it either. He knew what Orpheus was up to, sort of. “I’ll be here later, of course, but indulge me and let me spoil you too. It’s been a long year, you deserve the best start to a new one.” He added. 

    “Of course not.” He reassured at once. “Orpheus is fine, he’s just being romantic or something.” He laughed, though he felt guilty for making her worry, even for a moment. It touched him though, to see her genuine concern and care for his dear friend. Orpheus could do a hell of a lot worse. “Unfortunately, I’m bound to relative secrecy. I can deliver the gift, my own, and his, but it gets worse.” He smirked. “You’re not allowed to open it until tonight, but it comes with some words to tide you over?” He offered, straightening his posture. “I’m saying it my own way, he’ll have to sue me.” He smirked. “He wants you to know this gift is special, delivered by family as we all know the importance of that. You’re not only important to him, but also to the people he loves in a familial way. Therefore, this gift represents that. Your bond to family, and the loyalty and love that comes with it.” He explained, “which is why you can open my gift.” He added, knowing he’d need to placate her at least a bit. Inside his parcel was something far more sentimental than he typically chose for such things. 

     The parcel contained a few pieces. The first was a family heirloom, one of several things saved from his family’s recent struggles. It was small, a delicate hair comb with stunning emeralds nestled within beautiful closures. The shape of it seemed to reflect the shape of a blue clipper butterfly, resting on metal twisted to act like the stem and leaves of a flower. It had belonged to his great grandmother, and had been passed down. It was charmed as well, with a powerful protective spell. It was his way of ensuring he’d always be able to offer protection, even if he was busy and far away. The second item was to make her laugh –– a picture, of her and him and Orpheus, three Christmases back, right before the snow from the roof had slid and buried them all. The last item was for Glitter Demon, sort of, as no gift was complete without thinking of the raccoon. It was a raccoon charm for a silver bracelet, so Agnes could carry him with her whenever she wanted. 

        “Yes well, the extra pay they give me when I do work holidays is definitely worth the lack of time off for parties I likely wouldn’t attend anyways.” Not to mention it seemed to give them a bit more ground to stand on when asking for other days, which they found preferable. Not that they’d feel the same in Ziya’s line of work, or even if they’d stayed on course as an Obliviator – some fields were more the sort they imagined it was nicer to have holidays away. 

        His seeming amusement was something nearly contagious, and even if it hadn’t been the sheer timing of the woman’s entrance and her husband’s quick escape would’ve been enough to pull the laugh from their lips. They shook their head as they lifted the glass to their lips, raising an eyebrow. “Do I come across as the sort of person that would terribly bothered by crassness? If so I suppose I need to work on that. I’m most interested, Padgett, in whatever story you could possible have – provided it’s entertaining.”

-

   “Ah,” Ziya mused, understanding. His family wasn’t hurting for galleons, but his grandfather’s decisions, and even his father’s, hadn’t helped the situation either. He and his brothers had worked tirelessly to build up their fortune, but it stung to dwell on the truth of the matter. Things could have been far different had less selfish, foolish choices been made in the name of “love”. Ziya knew it for what it was –– weakness, and lust. “I’m glad they pay you well, Cahill. You certainly deserve it.” He quipped, though he meant it too. He couldn’t do their job. 

    His laughter continued at the agreement, grin widening. “No, you certainly don’t.” He agreed, before launching into the story. “We were in Egypt. We’d been tracking this wizard, a terrible boar of a man, obsessed with the dark arts, and stupid enough to be dangerous.” He explained, “for weeks I had to follow this man as he stumbled in and out of shops, as he drank himself into stupors and ended up half naked, sweating like the pig he was outside some poor pub’s doors. But it was the arrest that was the most interesting. I’m completely serious when I say we arrested this man with not a stitch of clothing on him. He’d tried to enhance his physique, shall we say, while using a traceable wand. He’d used a bloody curse, and so here he was, swollen like a roast pig, festering in the heat, squealing louder than any hog I’ve ever heard, and I was the lucky bastard to have to bring him in. We got him clothes somewhere along the way, but his vanity sure did a number on him.” 

She was desperate. Needing something–anything–to get her back to feeling somewhat normal. Persephone had spent hours scrubbing herself in the shower of the metaphorical blood she had on her hands. Yet nothing had seemed to help. Nothing but pouring endless amounts of alcohol down her throat. After calling in to work for the last three days, Seph decided to make an appearance outside of her own flat. A semblance of normalcy when she had taken her independence from her family’s estate. Throwing open her closet, the blonde witch donned a red dress and a pair of her favorite boots to match. A black cloak to shield her from the cold and Persephone was on her way to the Leaky Cauldron.

Was she a little over dressed to go to a pub? Yes. But she needed something to get her mind off of the mind wrenching guilt that lay heavy in her heart. Once there, Seph made her way to the bar, ordering the strongest they had. Blonde hair in curls that cascaded down her back, she made her way to a table in the back, releasing her cloak. Without a word, she pulled her favorite tarot deck from her bag and set up for anyone who might want a reading in these trying times.

-

   She was beautiful, overdressed, and yet so entirely Persephone. For a moment, he simply watched, having made idle conversation with other patrons, but his eyes kept being drawn to his woman in red. He noted the way she laid out her cards, deciding that was the perfect time for him to get up and approach. He stood, making his way over before dropping easily into the chair across. “It’s been awhile since you read for me,” He teased, reaching over to take her hand. He smoothed his thumb over her fingers before leaning down to press his lips to her knuckles. “You look stunning, Seph.” He complimented, eyes creasing fondly at the corners, “though it hardly looks like you had plans for the Leaky. Are you staying long?” He mused, wondering if she was simply killing time before going to her intended destination. 

     He let go of her hand, eyes flicking back to the tarot cards. He’d never been good at divination himself, but it was fun to get a reading every now and then, and Persephone was good at doing it. She was gifted,  beyond anything he could understand when it came to the art. “Go on then.” He nudged gently, tapping his fingers near one of the cards at random. 

OPEN || FAWLEY ESTATE || 7 jan

It was one of those days that Agnes liked best - it was a day almost entirely about her and it was a Saturday. And what was so good about that combination? It was the perfect setup to effectively and automatically guilt anyone who considered bailing out of her birthday celebrations. So what if her birthday came on the very last day of the very first week of each and every new year? So what if idiots waited until January to make changes, call them resolutions, and pretend they wanted to be better people. Everyone knew the truth. And anyone who had any sense was going to be at the party later that evening – preparations for which, Agnes could see as she made her way lazily down the main staircase of her family’s home, were already underway. 

Every year, her parents went above and beyond for her big day. And her wonderful friends, oh, they’d spoil her to bits, too. And with Orpheus having already ensured her birthday’d been given the perfect start, Agnes was ready; ready to be the princess, ready for her spotlight, ready for the visitor waiting downstairs as her elf had promised. “The party doesn’t start until much later, darling, you’re very early. But I appreciate the enthusiasm, that’s the spirit.” She laughed, teasing her visitor easily, but it was all in good spirit and good fun – Agnes was in a wonderful mood. “What can I do for you this morning?”

-

   Agnes was important to Orpheus, which meant she was important to him. She was important in her own right too, but Orpheus seemed to be the glue that kept them in the same circle more often. At least, it was a jumping off point, though he’d hardly needed the push. He made his way up to the front of the estate. Today his intentions were more because of Orpheus, the parcel he was carrying neatly wrapped. He’d become a god damn owl, but he didn’t mind. It was worth it if it meant making Agnes happy, and helping Orpheus. Merlin knew he needed it, though not, it seemed, where Agnes was concerned. He didn’t understand why they hadn’t married already, but then, he was yet unmarried too. He couldn’t shit talk, too much anyway. 

    His smile softened as he leaned in, gently kissing her check. “Ah, I’m well aware of the time of your party, sweetheart, but I come bearing gifts that simply can’t wait.” He laughed, producing the first –– his own. “One from me, because I’m going to have to work twice as hard here,” He explained. His gift was smaller, but it was only the morning gift. She’d get another later. This one was a necklace, with beads from his latest trip. He’d been hunting a dark wizard, and well, one had to keep occupied. He’d also been gone for ages, and he’d felt bad. The beads had reminded him of Agnes, and so here they were. “And this one,” He added, offering the second. “Is from Orpheus. I believe it goes with other gifts he’s given you, or will give you. He insisted someone like family needed to bring it.” He chuckled, amused that meant him and not one of his many brothers, or Eurydice. 

location: brews and stews status: open

the minister’s death extremely fresh, which did not impede people’s questions about it because wizards were a noisy, gossipy bunch. galina rolled her eyes discretely, disguising it by looking down on the juice she was stirring. all of the questions were stupid which annoyed her to no end. “no, i don’t know anything about the minister’s death – remember: i’m a translator, not a reporter” she answered drily in the middle of her actions “i know, not as exciting”.

-

    “Translator is very exciting,” Ziya corrected, though he understood her frustration. People always made the assumption, that simply working for the Ministry meant that one was privy to all the inner workings of wizarding society. It simply wasn’t true. Every department was like it’s own universe, and his was no exception. Hell, he couldn’t even tell you much about the auror department and he worked with them regularly. “No doubt you’re busy, pulled into meetings to reassure foreign allies, translating so we don’t accidentally frighten them further instead with shoddy language skills.” He remarked, “but I’m not here to discuss business, Ms. Dolohova, no need to worry. Are you alright?”

𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽

Location : The Hog’s Head Inn

        “I’m not saying we shouldn’t be concerned,” she lets a sigh slip past her lips as she stirs her drink, half-glaring at the passerby that’d decided to interrupt her conversation. “I am saying that I’d rather speak on other things. It’s all anyone’s been talking about and I hardly see how the gossiping of the average person is going to do anything other than stir the pot.”

-

   “Oh I agree entirely, Ms. Rosier.” Ziya admitted, finding that someone else was as tired of the gossip, the whispers, and the circling around and around in conversation as he was. It was pointless ramble, but it continued nonstop. “It’s refreshing to hear you say that,” he admitted as he leaned up against the bar, eager for a drink. He’d been out all day, and he had enough time for a drink and maybe a bite to eat before he’d be at it again. “What is it that does pique your interest then?” He wondered, curious. 

Georgie had to hit the ground running after the celebration at New Years. The first few were simple, small things. Being where they shouldn’t. Breaking something they shouldn’t have. A little too drunk. A bit of magic in front of muggles. And that was just one client. Nothing she couldn’t get reduced to a fine and a class on why the Statute is a very important thing. Though she knew there would be more coming. She refused to represent some but she was terrified that might not have too much of an option. While it was a touch too early for a real drink, she could have a nice cup of tea. She managed to get in before the mid-morning rush, taking a long sip before hearing her name. She turned and smiled when she saw it was Ziya. Merlin’s beard, he was handsome. And he hadn’t fully told her no yet so there was still a chance. 

“Mr. Padgett.” She took the seat next to him, sitting down with the practiced ease of a woman who spent too much time in finishing classes. “I do hope your presence here is not cause for concern. I like to think if you were here for me, you’d at least take me to dinner first.” She winked at him as she took another sip of her tea. “Are you on the lookout for someone? Do you need someone to help you be undercover? Hopefully at somewhere that there’s dancing and a few drinks? I’m happy to throw myself in the line of fire for the betterment and safety of the Ministry.” 

-

   Ziya noted the flirtatious way Georgie approached him. She always seemed to, and he didn’t mind, but he was careful not to give too much in return. “My presence is usually a cause for concern,” He laughed, honest in that. It didn’t matter if he was on a job or not, it was just the reality of things. He often came across as a bit intimidating, and it certainly served it’s purpose. “But no need to be too concerned, Ms. Parkinson. I’m just having a break before I head out. There are things to attend to, but coffee is most important of them all.” He laughed, taking a sip of it to emphasize the point. There was no doubt about it, he was in for many long nights and even longer days, when coffee would be his surest and truest companion. 

     “How very brave of you,” He smirked, amused by her antics. She was humorous, and beautiful, if nothing else. “I’m not sure the Ministry wants any of us anywhere near a social event right now, let alone anywhere we’re consuming anything that isn’t checked every other bite or sip.” He admitted, the paranoia widespread. He’d always been careful with food and drink, but it was good sense to be extra cautious now. “But I’ll keep that in mind. How are things for you? Clients behaving?”

        “You might – I spent the holiday working, not exactly conducive to news or gossip.” Not that they were particularly out of the loop, but it was always better to hear more than one take on the current events before trying to piece them together. Besides, Charlie didn’t have much else to do while they enjoyed their drink and waited for a message from their uncle on whether they were still stopping in for supper tonight or if he’d be busy.

        “Oh please, anyone who spends more than two nights a month in here knows miss Cherry’s a regular occurrence.” The Cauldron may not be their go-to but it was a favorite of one of their coworkers, and drinks after a long day – or two or three, they blurred sometimes – had become something of a staple. Usually they could talk the others into… anywhere else, but on occasion it was easier to just tag along and hope the company wasn’t too bad. “C’mon, surely you’ve got something better.”

-

  “A pity, everyone deserves a break over the holidays.” Ziya remarked, eyes sweeping over Charlie, immediately assessing them more out of instinct and muscle memory than any sense of concern or suspicion. He had no reason to be wary of the unspeakable, except perhaps for the sheer amount of intelligence Charlie no doubt possessed. It was admirable, not something to cower at. “That’s alright anyway, I’m glad to talk about anything else.” He mused, sick to death already of people speaking on Minister Tuft. He didn’t feel bad about it. 

    His eyes creased at the edges as he laughed, pleased to know he wasn’t the only one aware of Miss Cherry, Merlin bless her. “See, I warned you it’s unlikely I know anything you don’t,” he quipped, turning toward the door as the woman in question came scurrying in. He sipped his drink, amused. Some people were so habitual it was downright unbelievable. “I can’t say I have anything that would interest you, Cahill.” He shrugged, “Unless you’d like to hear of my most recent arrest story, but I warn you, it’s rather crass.” He smirked.