InsaneJournal

Who: Leonard Zabini and Amara Montague
Where: Amaranth restaurant
When: Thursday evening.
What: Leonard requested to speak with Amara over dinner, and she actually agreed. He takes a while to get to the point.
COMPLETE LOG.


After Brooke had helped her make a selection, Amara did her usual preparations to look her immaculate best. There was nothing wrong with wanting to make an impression upon an ex-boyfriend - not because one wanted to get back with him, naturally, but because a lady knew when to keep a gentleman on his toes, and it was not unhealthy for the self-esteem of an ex to be reminded of just exactly what he had given up. And if her mirror wasn't lying, Leonard would be due a rather memorable reminder.

Her mirror didn't lie. In fact, at times Amara wished it was a little less forthcoming with its opinions. "Wouldn't nude hosiery be more appropriate, dear?" it asked. Rather tartly too, Amara thought.

"Only before five," Amara responded neutrally, sweeping imaginary creases from her dress. "For a dinner date, sheer black is completely fine." She did have enough class not to wear something one ex had bought her to meet up with another, instead bypassing Donato's presents to select a form-fitting halter dress in a subdued dark blue she had got on sale from an elegant boutique in Florence. The neckline was teetering on the edge of showing more than it hinted at, so she had worn no more jewelry than two simple pearl studs and left her hair loose. She surveyed herself once more, satisfied with her work.

"And does it fit the dress code, my dear?" asked the mirror with more than a hint of disapproval.

"Naturally." Amara shrugged, then turned a sweet smile on the mirror. "Besides, what would you know of dress codes?" With a triumphant turn on her heel she exited the room, picking up what sounded like an indignant "hmph!" as she closed the door quietly.

In case the other patrons were better (well, not better, but more dressed) than herself, she had slipped a shawl in ice blue over her shoulders for modesty's sake. Not that the dress made her look anything less than what she was, a ladylike young woman from a good family. Well, a ladylike young woman from a good family, who also had excellent legs and a nice, waspish waist. Neither of which were her only attributes by any means. And a ladylike young woman whose ex was a fool for calling things to a halt with her.

What Amara's internal banter hid was her nerves, which were pirouetting around her stomach at the thought of seeing Leonard again, in these circumstances. She was of course aware that with recent events, it was a trying time for him and his family, but while she had offered, she could imagine those such as Justin or even Saoirse that he would be more willing to share confidences with instead. Why on earth had he requested her company?

Things were not going the way Leonard would like as of late, it would seem. And that in itself was an understatement. Things were not even slightly as he'd have liked. His mother was in Azkaban, and serving a sentence to span over more than a few months, and not even the fact that his father had at least managed to escape the same fate meant much. There was probably talk of it, regardless, and likely not all of it was sympathetic. As it was, he hadn't been, and still wasn't, very enthusiastic of how this might possibly be effecting his position at work overall. He was far too close to getting what he wanted for these kinds of turns of events to be occurring.

To make matters worse, however -- because it really did seem that bad things came in threes, and he'd already had the return of his ex-girlfriend and the incarceration of his mother to count for points one and two, his father had contacted him via owl to reveal that he -- as in Leonard -- was in engaged to be married. To Sapphira Robards, apparently. He held no ill feelings toward her, but no matter who who his father could have picked (unless it was Saoirse or even Amara), Leonard could not possibly have liked this development. But he couldn't refuse, no matter how much he'd wanted to.

The set-up was that Mother and Father made the rules, and that Leonard followed them. All of them. But with his mother in her predicament, the sole role laid with his father, and as much as Leonard hated this plan... and he did, Merlin knew he did, he couldn't outrightly say no. He couldn't refuse. So, quick thinkingly, he'd lied. Which was the main reason he'd requested to meet with Amara. The fact that he was disguising it as taking her up on her offer was only because there were certain things that needed to be said in person.

Dressed in some of his best, though that was a trick statement since even his worst was many times better than a lot of other people's best, he'd arrived at the restaurant before the agreed meeting time, which was his usual way and nothing to be surprised about. As he waited for her arrival, he ordered himself a glass of wine and easily resisted the urge to drink the entire contents at once. He had to figure out the best way to ask what he had to ask of her, and hope that perhaps she wouldn't let him land flat on his face. Which didn't at all make him happy. Being uncertain of the future did not make him happy. Having to depend on someone else did not making him happy. It became a bit harder to not drain the glass quickly.

Ah, there he was. And fortunately she had yet to be spotted, which gave her an extra moment to compose herself. As the concierge guided her towards their table (their table - that pronoun she was unused to using, and now was once again in her vocabulary - made her hands shake slightly until she tightened them around her clutch), her heels clicked over the marble floor, then softened as she reached plush carpet. Leonard was one of the few men who dwarfed over her when she was in flats, and tonight she didn't want to give him the slightest bit of an edge. Every minute detail had been looked over.

Leonard, as usual, looked very handsome. She found herself unwillingly recalling a friend's joking comment about what beautiful children they would have. Would have had. Not that she was remotely, nor had been, interested in children of her own in the near future, but more the process of making them. Her cheeks heated slightly at yet more unwelcome recollections and she swallowed. Maintain your much vaunted composure, Amara.

Nodding to the concierge as he pulled out her chair, she gave Leonard a quick, polite smile. "So, it appears that you have reconsidered my note." The statement was said mildly, however, and with no hint of rebuke or triumph. She was interested in maintaining civil terms with Leonard for professionalism's sake, and it would not do to taunt his prickly sense of pride.

While she may have gone unnoticed at first, he certainly did see her by the time she was some feet away, heading directly towards him as lead by the concierge. It made the effort to not indulge in bad habits just that bit easier to stick with, as he refused to seem as if he was even the slightest bit off centre. Not that he was, but it was best to avoid even the presumptions of something of that kind.

She was a good enough distraction, as it was, dressed to perfection. He wouldn't be telling her that, however, unless it in any way helped him get the favour he needed out of her. In that case, he'd tell her how stunning she looked, many times. But it wasn't yet that point in the evening, so he settled for giving her a slight nod and a smile of his own. "It was very considerate of you to send to begin with."

"Thank you." Amara accepted the compliment with yet another nod. "It was however the least I could do." She paused thoughtfully, wondering how she could assess what Leonard wanted. While he had confided things in the past with her - things she suspected very few others got to hear - they were not what they had been to each other then, and she could no longer assume the same. "Things have been...eventful lately," she alluded. This could of course be taken for any number of small and trifling things, from the fallout of the match between the Gryffindor and Slytherin house teams to the minor surprise of Saoirse's younger brother asking a halfblood from the former to the dance. If Leonard wanted to avoid the obvious conclusion, he was free to do so. Her hand twisted around the stem of her wine glass. Red. Merlot by the taste. Leonard had not forgotten that particular detail over the last year.

He had to figure out the most appropriate way to approach the topic. In the interest of keeping the evening pleasant, he'd started off by ordering her a glass of wine to her taste. All he needed now was a sign that he could go forth and ask her. Which wasn't yet, he'd decided.

"They have, haven't they?" He asked, decidedly not at all referring to his own issues. He hadn't paid much attention to the events effecting the students of Hogwarts, unless it in some way might extend to Pascal. However, that didn't much keep him from giving his opinion on what he found to be less than prepared persons in leadership positions. "I find that this year seems to be somewhat less... controlled than previous ones."

"They lack leadership." Amara's tone was quiet yet decisive. "While I'm certain that Genevieve Boot is doing a fine job, from what I recall of my school days, currently what is absent is perhaps more of an enforcer? Someone to intimidate students into toeing the line when all else fails. With some, that's the only thing which works." Saoirse, and Leonard of course, were two of those enforcer-style figures, but she saw no need to make her compliment overt and bolster Leonard's already healthy ego.

Leonard didn't need for the compliment to be any more obvious. It had seemed to him from the very beginning that the choice made for the Heads had been lacking something, but he hadn't voiced his opinions for obvious reasons. Mainly that he hadn't been concerned. But seeing the direction the current year was going in, it seemed as if maybe something should have been said sooner.

"I believe you may be right," Leonard agreed. While other houses had had their fair amount of drama, Slytherin had been involved in more than should have been for his former house. "Unfortunately, it will be the job of next year's picks to fix what doesn't leave with the current seventh years."

"Yes. One can only hope that they have the gumption to pick prefects who aren't afraid of enforcing the rules or who simply tick the right boxes politically, or who are the most popular with their classmates." She gave her eyes the barest hint of a roll and picked up her glass. "To be fair, Boot or the Longbottom boy would perhaps have made a better start of things had the administration promoted only one of them, and then a more traditional prefect to work alongside. But they are too alike to be each other's foil, and both present themselves as the more moderate sort of prefect. Had they someone more stringent to play off, it may have been a savvy decision."

Taking a mouthful, she set her drink back on the table. "His surname and family history of course make it out of the question, but it is perhaps a pity that Malfoy wasn't selected as Slytherin prefect in lieu of Potter. Of course, these days one requires something beyond the usual qualities of tenacity, intelligence and capacity to be selected for such posts." Leaning forward slightly, therefore unintentionally making her dress hint less and show slightly more, she lowered her voice. "The surnames of 'Potter' or 'Weasley' or 'Longbottom,' perhaps. And without too many magical ancestors in one's genealogy, if one can help it. One has to be seen as 'progressive,' naturally." The mildness of her tone underscored the disdain she felt.

"From what I remember of Wolfgang Bagman, he might've been the best choice alongside Boot." Of course all of the seventh year prefects had only been fifth years during Leonard's tenure as Head Boy and he only vaguely remembered their personalities well enough, but he'd seen more than enough in the journals that no other choice was even remotely possible. The fact that he made no attempt to provide an alternate Head Girl alongside for Longbottom spoke volumes in his opinion.

Leaning forward himself as an automatic response, and taking enough notice of Amara that he had to find another point of focus very quickly, he gave a slightly amused smirk. "I've been playing that game for years now. Of course, I suppose in my case, and Saoirse's, it helped that there was no one more competent."

"Quite. The only way we can get ahead is by outshining the competition that thoroughly." She tilted her head to one slide slightly, making the candlelight flicker over her hair. "And while it has happened in the past, I unfortunately doubt that the administration would pick two heads from the same house. Unless, of course, we are speaking of two Gryffindors." Another sip of wine, but by and large she was pacing herself. She needed something to take the edge off, but planned to keep her wits about her. "Admittedly no house lacks its skeletons, but it is rather vexing that they are afforded a level of glossing than the rest of us are denied. Need they be reminded that one of the most notorious turncoats of both wars resided in Gryffindor? But we only get regaled with one side of their history."

"Unfortunately I cannot see matters improving anytime soon." Amara wasn't overly concerned with current matters at Hogwarts, but like Leonard, little slid under her notice, and she latched onto this relatively neutral topic of conversation readily. "The recent accusations against Fudge may ruin her chances, I believe. And Harper's half-sister has the unfortunate association with his family. It will be a Gryffindor or a Hufflepuff - yet again." She frowned for a moment, then gave a quiet chuckle. "Luckily I am less involved in all of this than you are. My sympathies with you still having a sibling on the premises."

This mention of his family opened the door - while being subtle - for a chance for Leonard to divulge concerns more closely related to himself.

"Thirty years later and despite how naive people would love to think things change, more has stayed the same than they know." Leonard spoke from the experience of having had the story of Hogwarts during the second war told to him by his parents -- his father was a great deal less biased than his mother.

"Fortunately, Pascal is a great deal more intelligent than those in his year and ahead of him. I've no idea how he was looked over in being awarded prefect status. At least then there might have been some hope for next year." Thinking on his family, however, reminded him that there were serious issues to deal with. The first being to make sure his mother's sentence didn't effect him. The second being to get out of the engagement his father had forced on him.

"Politics," Amara surmised. Over Leonard's shoulder a couple were being served their hors d'oeuvres. She wondered just how much longer they would be here, and whether they should order something. The invitation had been Leonard's, however, so it was for him to set the tone. "Speaking of Saoirse, I'm currently living with her and Brooke Pritchard. Rather old news, of course," she added. Leonard hadn't taken the bait, so she wasn't going to press for the topic that he may or may not have wished to discuss.

Saoirse hadn't said anything to him about that. But he hadn't really expected that she would feel any need to. After all, Amara was an acquaintance of hers in her own right, and so that really wasn't any of his business at all, was it? That in mind, Leonard merely raised an eyebrow in some interest. "Are you? That's very convenient."

While part of him wanted to just lay it all out for her, there was a matter of decorum to be kept to, and that meant making sure she at least had the opportunity to eat something before asking something so surprising, if he could help it. "Would you like to order?"

"Convenient." Her word of the day from a journal entry quite some time ago. For the first time Amara gave a genuine smile, wide and beaming. "Yes. That would be nice, thank you."

Leonard well knew the difference between the smile she currently wore and all others, and his expression became a tab more pleasant in response. "Don't mention it. It is, after all, part of the reason for why we are here," he replied even as he called for the attention of the waiter.

Having picked out gnocchi with a tomato-based sauce, Amara did her part to keep the conversation on neutral topics, such as the recent inquiry at the Ministry and various colleagues that they now shared. She felt as though she was straddling both feeling a sort of comfort and familiarity in Leonard's company - who was someone she had once upon a not-so-distant time being quite close to - and a sensation of surrealism at this. It was odd to be here and conversing in such a like way as what they once had, yet so unalike as the situation around them had changed significantly.

She also knew that whatever reason why Leonard had asked her here, it was not purely to speculate about who the future Head Boy and Girl may be. And in spite of her earlier resolution, it took a great deal of willpower not to call him out on it. So she chatted and ate and sipped at her wine and tried her best to ignore the sharp twinge of curiosity continuously pricking at her conscious.

Their orders having been taken and conversation topics that only helped to pass the time run through, Leonard found it slightly easier to be around Amara; it wasn't too close to as difficult as he'd found their elevator run-in at the Ministry. But that had been weeks ago, and Leonard was fully able to adapt to things going wrong. And now, with his mother in her state, and the Zabini name a bit tarnished, and an arranged marriage he had to get out of, he was going to have to adapt very well.

So it was as they were in the midst of enjoying their meals that he decided to put to an end Amara's curiosity - he'd known her too well at one point to not be slightly aware that she would be curious, and said, "I'm sure you're wondering what the purpose of this dinner is?"

"Since you could talk to Justin as easily about these things as you could with me, it did cross my mind." That, and recent circumstances with his family would mean that casual dinners were likely not high on Leonard's list of priorities.

Leonard only gave the statement a nod. It was true, and he would much prefer to converse with Justin if at all. But the matter at hand was something significantly important to be discussed with Amara as she was currently the only person who could help him. Hopefully he could appeal to her to feel so inclined.

"In light of recent events, or possibly despite them, my father -- in all its irony that I'm completely aware of in regard to the reasons behind the end of our relationship -- has actually gone as far as to agree to an arranged marriage involving myself and a girl who is of age, but in Hogwarts for another year at least." Who the someone else was held no importance, but the fact that he wasn't looking to marry did.

Either way, he was sure such a reveal would quite possibly amuse Amara, but he had yet to reach the part of why this was so important to include her on.

Amara's eyebrows rose in genuine surprise, any pretense falling from her act. "I'm sorry," she said simply, and then - drawing herself together - she added, "That is rather...unexpected. And to do so without consulting you..." She had been aware that Pansy was very politically conservative, but had considered Blaise Zabini to be slightly more forward thinking than his wife. "It has to have been in light of recent events, to have come about in such a way. He must feel as though his own reputation has been damaged and is desperate to restore it."

So, what are you going to do about it? was the unspoken implication. Because while Leonard did follow the stipulations his parents set down, they had never before done something so against his best interests. Would he follow through on them? Not the Leonard she knew. Or had known. Her stomached knotted with a myriad of contrasting feelings.

"I've no idea what his reasons are behind doing something like this. I have no desire to know." Leonard replied, still managing the keep the vexed look from his face even as they got closer to what would be the climax of the night. "I do, however, know my only way out involves you."

Which was true. He'd already lied, he just needed Amara to agree to it. And it was quite possibly the only way to defy this plan without being so obvious.

"How so?" Amara inquired softly.

Here goes, he thought.

"The only way I could foresee my father letting this ludicrous idea of an arranged marriage go would be if I were already committed to someone else -- at least as far as he can tell." He leveled a look at her, letting the implications of what he was saying stand as they were.

"You-" There was nothing she could conceivably say to that. Nothing. All of her social training had left her at a complete loss for such a situation - and really, who would anticipate something like that? Buying time, she took a slow sip of her wine, holding it in her mouth and then swallowing. "I see," she said.

Leonard was well aware of the fact that Amara didn't at all like what he'd just indirectly asked of her, and he didn't really find fault with her, because he didn't like the idea of coming to her for help on such a thing himself. But he needed this plan to work, and so he was willing to set aside his pride, at least momentarily. Long enough to ask, "Will you help me?"

"Well." Another prolonged sip of wine. Another attempt to play it cool. "In other words, you want me to pose as your fiancée." The smile had long completely slipped from her face, and a feeling of dread settled into her stomach. "I have never wished you ill," she said finally. "I will go along with this. There is nothing else I could otherwise decently do."

Amara considered herself to be of good enough breeding not to say so, but along with that statement was the unspoken implication of, You owe me. You owe me big time.

He'd known before receiving her answer that if she agreed, he'd owe her. It didn't make him any happier to think of it now that she had, and he didn't have that good of a feeling at all about this plan, but it was the only option he had while remaining in his father's favour, and so he was going to take it for what it was.

"It's appreciated, you've no idea." It was the closest he could get to actually saying thank you; he wasn't handing over that much of his pride.

Leonard's tacit 'thank you' was acknowledged by a simple nod. She had a very bad feeling about this...