Who: Bertha Jorkins and Arthur Weasley What: Random interaction When: Thursday, 13 August 1980 (backdated); lunchtime Where: Ministry of Magic lunch room Rating: PG Status: Completed
It had already been a hard day at work, and it was barely after noon. Bertha sighed as she slumped into a chair at an empty table, setting her lunch box down. She didn't usually pack a lunch, but she was trying to save up for a pair of boots she'd seen the other day in Diagon Alley. It wasn't a necessary expense, but she'd fallen in love with them, and she knew it would be worth the effort.
It was even worth the awkward stares from her coworkers when they saw her lunch box. It had been an impulse buy a year ago, a reminder of happier times growing up. She wasn't sure if the looks were because the box was childish, or because the pink panther depicted on the outside didn't move. Sighing, she popped open the lid and removed the Pink Panther thermos, and then the items she'd packed for lunch, one by one.
Arthur's week had been almost uplifting now that he had returned to the Ministry. His desk had been deluged during his absence and he had been looking forward to lunch to get away from all that blasted paperwork. Heading through the lunch room doors with a brown sack in hand, he nodded to a few acquaintances while looking around for a place to sit. His old mate Wallace seemed to have no spots around him so he kept glancing about, hoping to find something where he would not be alone. He hated being by himself. That had happened too frequently since Percy's kidnapping and Molly was spending time with the kids or trying to sleep.
Passing by a young woman extracting her lunch from a container with a pink cat on the front, Arthur did a double-take in the aisle. "Will anyone be sitting here?" He pointed to the seat across from her. As he waited, he realized the cat wasn't moving at all. Arthur wondered if she might be one of the Muggleborns that worked at the Ministry.
Bertha looked up, swallowing the bite she'd just taken. Yes, that was really the sort of impression she wanted to make, sitting there with a mouthful of food. She shook her head. "No, go ahead," she said hastily after washing down the bite with a drink from her thermos. He looked familiar, but he wasn't from her department, and she didn't think he was in the department she'd started in at the Ministry.
"Long day?" she asked, trying to place him. She had a good memory, so if they'd ever been introduced, she was sure she'd figure out his name, sooner or later. Though, she was slightly better with events than with names.
Arthur nodded his thanks and sat down, pulling a ham sandwich out of his bag. Molly had made his lunch last night just like the old days at the Burrow. He didn't recognize this lady across the table but he wasn't good with faces, never had been unless they were the bigwigs that he would do well to memorize.
"Yeah, just got back from a few weeks off. Mandatory vacation, you know," Arthur took a bite of his sandwich and chewed it thoroughly before swallowing it. "It's not every day your place gets attacked by werewolves and vampires and the like. Not to mention have a kid get taken from the house." He drank some of his pumpkin juice and looked up at her, "Friendly suggestion: put up some strong wards, you never know when these crazed creatures might break past your wards into your house."
Well, if Bertha hadn't recognized him from earlier, that certainly jogged her memory. After all, it wasn't every day an army of dark creatures (as the Quibbler had referred to it) attacked a house. "Merlin, I heard about that. My roommate got a friend to come set up wards for us." She took another bite of her sandwich. Yes, this was just the sort of conversation she needed at lunchtime. "Have to be crazy to attack a flat in the middle of London, though, yeah?" Not that logic seemed to be a factor for those monsters.
"Yeah, they would have to be pretty mental to attack your flat in London," Arthur briskly nodded and changed the subject. "So what is this pink creature you have on your box here? I have never heard of pink cats before, not to mention the fact that the image seems to be stationary."
Bertha was rather grateful for the change. She liked to reserve the unpleasant talks for her close friends, and while she knew Arthur Weasley, he didn't really fit the parameters. "You've never heard of the Pink Panther?" she replied, though not entirely surprised. As much as she loved magic, they didn't give enough credit to the muggles for the fantastic things they came up with. "It's a muggle show on the telly, for kids. I used to watch it with my brother."
At her mention of a pink panther, Arthur's eyebrows shot up. So Muggles have some really weird shows on this telly thing about creatures that are fictitious. Strange, he thought they should have stuck to things that were more realistic like the story about Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump. "So how do these tellys work? Is it plugs? I found some at this old lady's house in Bristol. She said I could keep them, apparently they were from an old roaster and they don't work anymore. I tried plugging one in but all I felt was this weird sensation that raised my hair on end. All the lights went out and she told me to leave. She said I had broken the tripper."
Bertha raised her eyebrow, and focused on taking another, very large bite out of her sandwich. He was asking her about plugs? Of course that old lady had told him to leave her home. She was still astonished at how very little wizards understood about muggles and electricity. Mum had enough problems with the interference their magic caused with the electricity in the house when they were growing up.
"Well," she said, stalling by taking another drink from her thermos, "there's a plug. And antennas. But, you know, a plug has to be attached to something to work." It made perfect sense to her. It's not like plugs were solitary things. Well, except for those odd adapters she'd seen for fitting into other kinds of sockets... "And a telly is a muggle's way of getting moving pictures."
"Antennas...isn't that like an insect thing?" Arthur gave himself imaginary horns with his index fingers above his head. "Almost like their ears maybe?" He supposed he looked like a fool in the middle of the lunch room with fingers attached to his head so he dropped them down to pull out his apple. "So plugs are attached....hmm. Good to know." Taking a large bite out of the apple, he swallowed it before continuing, "Do they have sports then if they can't actually make things move like the Snitch does in Quidditch?"
"I suppose that's where the name comes from," Bertha replied hesitantly, looking at him quizzically. No wonder she hadn't made much effort to remember his name. He was utterly ridiculous. At least when she asked pestering questions, they had a purpose. Even if it was something as shallow as blackmail. She gaped at his last question, the bite in her mouth nearly forgotten. He was joking, wasn't he?
Finally aware of herself again, Bertha swallowed. "Yes, they have sports. Lots of them." How much longer would she have to sit here before she could leave without offending him? Not that she was utterly concerned with that, but it would really be a waste to pack up the rest of her lunch and seek out a different table at this point. Maybe as soon as she finished her sandwich...
"Huh, well that's lovely," Arthur spotted the clock on the wall. Looked like his lunch break had quickly moved by during their conversation. Quickly eating the last bit of his sandwich, he turned to his apple, "So are you like a halfblood or Muggleborn then to know all this stuff about Muggles?"
"Half," Bertha replied, biting into a crisp. "Mum's a muggle." Right, so all she had to do was finish her crisps, and she could avoid the strange questions. "So I was raised with a bit of both worlds." She had no need to ask what his blood status was, as if she cared. The Weasleys were one of the older pureblood families, and even if they weren't, only a pureblood would be so utterly daft when it came to muggle things.
"Really," Arthur pondered as he snacked on one of his biscuits. Usually he saved these for home but today he would have some time apparently. "That must have been rather interesting. What with bridging the gap between both worlds. Do you ever do anything with your Muggle family members now or do you spend free time in the magical community solely?"
Bertha ate a few crisps before responding. She didn't really like talking about herself all that much. Defeated the purpose of being a gossip. It was much more fun to talk about other people. "Not much. It's hard keeping in touch, you know?" He probably didn't. They weren't close to either set of grandparents. Her father had thrown away a pureblood line by marrying her mother, and her mother's parents knew nothing about the wizarding world. Besides, she only really got on well with her younger brother. She didn't care about keeping in touch with the rest of them.
Arthur finished the last of his biscuits and wiped his mouth with a napkin he had conjured. "We don't keep in touch with my wife's father. Of course, that's because he is convinced that I am a bloodtraitor." Shaking his head sadly, he continued, "Then with my parents, we see each other about once a month. So the Weasleys are very easy to keep in touch with. But I can understand that some families live quite a ways a part and are in different worlds." He placed the remains of his meal back in the bag and grasped his pumpkin juice in his left hand as he propelled himself up with his right. "Nice talking with you. I don't remember catching your name though."
Bertha listened vaguely, hoping he would say something interesting, something worth sharing with someone else. But, really, there wasn't anything she hadn't heard before. She sighed with relief when he started to pack up his things. "Oh. Bertha Jorkins." She didn't bother with pleasantries. She wasn't very good at them anyhow. Instead, she took a drink from her thermos and turned her attention back to her crisps.