RP: Just when you think things can't get worse Date: 31 May 2006 Characters: Rodolphus Lestrange (under polyjuice), Miles Bletchley Location: Three Broomsticks Private/Public: Private Rating: PG Warnings: Summary: Miles gets a visit from his 'boss', and probably the most distasteful mission he's ever had. Not even pretty new girls can make this any better.
As Miles had told Daphne, the fates were mocking him - well, them.
His wife was pregnant, and he wasn't upset about it, he was running a pub and brothel on behalf of his six year old son who owned it, and now he was faced with the most ironic task of all.
How the hell all three of the girls upstairs told him they were pregnant, was just beyond belief. All three, at once. Hadn't he been supplying them with the potion? Did they think he'd be happy about it? He rubbed his face and flopped back in his office after the last girl left, still trying to get his head around the fact that he had a brothel, and literally no girls left. No girls, and his coffers very empty after paying them rather... generous sums in severance and to help them... take care... of things.
Ridiculous. Where the hell was he going to get new girls on such short notice? This was going to ruin his Saturday night, and this was certainly not a job he planned on letting Daphne fill in for. Ever.
He'd have to make some discreet enquiries, to see if anyone could help out.
Far from being allowed to wallow alone in his office, he made the effort to get out on the floor, and head behind the bar. He was going to have to do some fast talking with the upstairs 'regulars', and hope they'd be appeased with a few more drinks instead of a damn good shag.
There was a new face at the end of the bar, and he noticed it watching him expectantly. He guessed this, perhaps, was another of Lestranges informants, dropping off some information. Could things get any worse? Miles felt that his entire life was spiralling out of control, with no say in anything any more. What next?
When the new face indicated he wanted a refill on his drink, Miles told Spinnet that he'd look after this fellow. "New in town?" he asked casually. "What'll it be?"