Carlotta "Magic the Muggles" Pinkstone (nosecrets) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2008-06-04 00:43:00 |
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Bertha didn't dress up for much, and she certainly didn't do so for dinner in Hogsmeade. She just wasn't the sort. After a long day sitting in her work cubicle all she really wanted to do was go home, put on her pajamas and watch her stories on the telly, but Bertha wasn't one to ever turn down a free meal. And, well, Carlotta wasn't one she would necessarily call a friend, but anyone who allowed her to simply prattle on with gossip and seemed to somewhat enjoy it was someone she didn't mind spending time with at all. A free meal, and a night of gossip-- perhaps some information on the explosion at the match-- no, Bertha wasn't going to turn that down no matter how long her day had been. That said, she was sure to get all of her yawns out before leaving the Ministry that evening to apparate to Hogsmeade. She didn't want to be late because she'd splinched herself on the way. Bertha made some effort to brush her hair and reapply lipstick after she undid the clasps of her robes so that she could be more comfortable in her muggle clothing, but that was really it. She did nothing else before transporting herself to the small village just below Hogwarts. She didn't come here much; she didn't do much having to do with the wizarding world outside of the workday, to be honest. She wasn't surprised to see that every little had changed since the outings they'd taken during time as students. She walked by Rosemerta's and passed Honeydukes, though no particularly pleasant memories came to mind. Just her normal urge for chocolate. It didn't take Bertha long to reach Darving's and when she did, she slipped inside as unobtrusively as she could. Her lips were set in frown as she looked around for Carlotta, hoping that she'd not gotten the location or time wrong. Carlotta always attempted to be prompt to these occasions. She had cultivated Bertha's friendship in the beginning because it could be quite useful to have someone who knew a lot about a number of different people and who was willing to share that information. It was every reporter's dream and vision, really, to have someone who was in the know and who was willing to share, and Bertha was both of these things. Carlotta had dressed simply and formally, and she had called ahead to reserve a table at Darving's. Carlotta had known Diodore for a number of years, and he knew that when Carlotta sent a request for a table, it was almost always for the back table, away from the crowds and with a bit of privacy. Of course, tonight Carlotta had chosen it partially for the privacy and partially because she simply wanted one of Diodore's delicious puddings. The weekend had resulted in tragedy, and while Carlotta was still signing papers to allow funds from her numerous agencies and societies to go where they were needed, she had also been ruminating on how best to get to the truth of the situation. The attacks on the Quidditch stadium had been so deadly, and it seemed that the DMLE had so easily overlooked them - something that Carlotta simply could not understand. How could one have been so worried about Quidditch games merely a week or two before that you confiscated wands, and the next week, so lax you missed huge numbers of explosives in the stands? As it turned out, her statements regarding the necessity of wizards being at liberty to keep their wands, had been more real than she had immediately supposed, as she could not imagine how much more deadly the attack might have been if people had been unable to Apparate on Saturday. It was with these thoughts in her mind, that she was waiting for Bertha, hoping that some bit of information Bertha had, might give her an idea to follow for her next article or opinion piece, as was a more apt description. As Carlotta had been prompt (even a bit early) she was already sitting in the back corner, a cup of coffee and a small glass of ice water in front of her on the table. She waved her hand at Bertha to motion her over to the table. There was a moment passed before Bertha finally noticed Carlotta waving for her from the back corner. It was exactly the sort of place she'd have chosen if she'd been first to arrive. Far and away enough for privacy, yet perfectly placed for hearing any juicy bits of information that might float her way. Very rarely did she go out to eat in places like this with people, because having a conversation of her own tended to distract from her favorite past time of listening in on others'. Funny, how that worked. Adjusting her purse on her shoulder, Bertha waved back to Carlotta before winding carefully through the tables and chairs until she reached the secluded spot. "'Lo, Carlotta," Bertha said, plopping herself down in the empty seat across the table. "Sorry, I'm late. Horridly long day; couldn't get out of there fast enough and I'm starved." She blew hair out of her face and started idly pulling strands through her fingers. She was tired and feeling a bit over worked, but she felt that likely had as much to do with the fact that there was nothing in her stomach as it had that work that day had involved more paperwork than usual due to the bombings over the weekend. She could feel an eyestrain headache coming on. "Thought I'd want a drink, but I'm right sure that'd put me to sleep in my seat." With a sigh, Bertha finally focused her attention on Carlotta. "How're you doing then?" Carlotta gave her an airy smile and blew a kiss her direction. It was far more familiar than she normally would be with someone like Bertha - indeed anyone at all - but her interest in making certain Bertha felt comfortable with her over-rode any formalities that Carlotta might stand on. Not that she typically stood on formalities but she did not go out of her way to break them either. "Oh, I'm quite lovely, my dear," she said. "Would you like coffee? Tea? Something else to drink?" She waved her hand. "I'm sure they'll bring you whatever you want and perhaps a bit of coffee might keep you awake. I've had a lovely day, Rhiannon, my Kneazle, you know, has been simply delightful. We spent most of the morning out in the gardens, I've been so busy looking at parchments and keeping things moving after this weekend." Carlotta shook her head. "You weren't at the match this weekend were you? It seems like it would have been so dreadful, and I can hardly wrap my head around the tragedy or how many people are in pain this week." She took a sip of her coffee and watched the other woman carefully, waiting for her response to the question. "Oh, I was at a match alright, but it was footie at Wembley. Liverpool was playing AC Milan and the only reason people left bloodied was the fans beating each other black and blue," Bertha explained in one long string of breath. She rolled her eyes towards the end of it, mostly at herself. "It's a muggle thing. But no, I wasn't at the Quidditch Pitch, and I didn't know anyone who was. Thought my brother might've been, but he was home watching the telly; owled me soon as it happened." Bertha shook her head. "Jesus Christ, I can't imagine how they let it happen. Especially after what happened in Diagon, you know? You'd think they'd been checking for things like that. Pft, but no. Instead you've people getting blown up tryin' to watch a match. Horrible," she declared, sniffing slightly as if there was something nasty underneath her nose. "And of course we're suffering for it now at work. You'd not believe the amount of paperwork we had to go through today." Now, of course, none of this was Carlotta's fault, but Bertha's frustrations were showing through a bit. Her lips thinned a bit as she sighed. "You sound as if you've had a better day then I have, and aye, I think I'd like a coffee. Should ask if they can add a bit of chocolate to it-- anyway, I'm glad we're able to sit down. You don't know anything else about what happened, do you?" Carlotta understood only half of what Bertha was talking about. Although she'd worked with Muggles, Muggleborns and Squibs for ages, her understanding of Muggle football was a bit less than it probably should have been considering how often she'd seen her best friend Victoria's husband watching it on their telly. "That's probably a good thing though," Carlotta nodded at Bertha and she made certain that a coffee with a bit of chocolate was ordered for Bertha as the other woman spoke. "I can only imagine," she said in a conversational tone, both mentally taking notes as to what she wanted to ask about later, and what she simply wanted to remember for future reference. "I'm sure it's been simply horrible at the Ministry, all of that problems, and of course the writer of the Daily Prophet piece simply wasn't very kind." It was a rather odd remark for Carlotta to make as she herself would have been equally unkind had she been the author of the piece, but it was conversation and Carlotta did not get the information she got but putting people ill at ease. "Do they have any idea how they missed all of the things? Do they not typically keep places warded to help make certain that such things can't happen?" Carlotta reached for the menu so she could make a selection of something to eat. "Not that I've heard yet." Bertha leaned in a bit conspiratorially, because she was perfectly paranoid that there were other eavesdroppers like herself out there. "But no one seems to think it was a random thing, and why would they after the other bombings, yeah? I heard they said no one came in looking suspicious, but that's not much of anything now is it? We're witches and wizards, you can't just go based on looks. Some of them think it's the Death Eaters, and that's not a unfair guess, is it?" She wracked through her brain quickly, thinking back to the few responses she'd received in her journal and then any snippets of conversation she'd picked up during her lunch break that day. Everyone had been very hush hush about the true facts. "It does make sense that it would be the Death Eaters," Carlotta said, and shook her head slightly. The idea of harming someone to get your point across just never worked well with her. Carlotta Pinkstone had been getting her point across for years. Consistently doing magic in front of Muggles, she'd never harmed a single person (at least to her point of view, although the Ministry might say otherwise) and she'd always done what she'd done for the good of everyone - Muggles included. She simply didn't think it should be forced secrecy and that if she wished to help a Muggle, she should be able to do so. "They don't seem to have any regard for life, but 350 was the final death count?" There was a question in her voice. "That is taking it to an entirely new level isn't it?" She ordered dinner, a bit of chicken, a potato and some vegetables, and asked for a refill of coffee before continuing on. "Who would be in charge of security for the match, Bertha? Is that the Hitwizards that take care of such things? Is there someone specific in the department that takes care of it? I know that Millicent Bagnold seemed quite tired in her most recent journal entry. It must be exhausting not being able to keep up with what the Death Eaters are doing." In her pause to order dinner, Bertha chose the Shepard's pie on the menu with a side of chips which she always found herself craving after work. She'd sleep like a baby tonight. Her face became noticeably more scrunched as she thought through Carlotta's question. Bertha normally had an pathetic memory that barely held anything in, but she had a mind for gossip that for some reason held silly bits of information in like nothing else. It was a slight struggle to come up with the name she was looking for, but eventually she remembered it. Or thought she did. "Bagnold, yes. She's head of department, but the whole lot of it. I suspect she delegates. Granted, tired as she is and the way things are going, it might not be helping. But," she said coming into stride with her speech as she remembered one last thing. "If you really want to know a good deal, I say talk to Hitwizard Pepper. I'm almost positive he was one of the ones called to the scene in the end, given what he said to me. He said he could tell me everything that had happened after the bombs, so he must have been there. Probably filed a report and everything, but I don't know if I'll be able to get my hands on it. Could try Bagman too, over in Magical Games and Sports." Admittedly, she didn't much like thinking about Death Eaters, but it was hard not to in the context of the conversation, not to mention the context their lives in general seemed to be taking of late. Being the daughter of a squib and a muggle Bertha had no delusions of what the group would do to her if they had the chance, and just for that she preferred to keep them from her mind. But now, she couldn't help it. "Three hundred and fifty," she repeated. With an audible exhale, Bertha shook her head. "S'a lot just to say how much they hate muggleborns and the Ministry, or whatever it is they're against today, innit? They could at least have the curtosey to go bomb people they actually know. Face to face, instead of murdering a bunch of kids out for a lark at a match." Carlotta nodded solemnly, taking a sip of her coffee and making mental notes on names and tidbits. Bagnold was tired, Pepper - a Hitwizard - had likely been involved one way or another, Bagman was someone she'd considered at some point or another, but it was always nice to have her thoughts verified a bit. "It really, truly is," Carlotta said in answer to Bertha's possibly rhetorical question. "It does take so much energy for them to be so angry against the world. And how helpful is it?" She shook her head. "Three hundred and fifty people dead - and with the way they were murdered, there's no way they can know who might have been among those crowds. Perhaps even people who would have supported them, but now they'll never know. It's self-defeating, as it merely makes them look like murderers, and nobody will take any political point they try to make seriously under those circumstances." She tsked. "Not that I would take any political point they make seriously any way." "Tell me more about this Pepper, though," she looked genuinely curious. "Does he have a journal, because I don't know that I'm familiar with the name." Quickly, Bertha nodded, running her fingers through her hair as she thought. "Octavius Pepper. Like I said, he's a hitwizard. Has been ever since I got to the Ministry, I think. I don't know him very well, but I do know he's got himself a journal, because he writes in it enough. I don't write in mine very often for the world to see, but when I do he tends to write back. He's a bit rude, to tell the truth. Likely diseased too." She frowned, remembering that he'd said it would be a sacrifice to have sex with her. Bertha happened to think she was quite the catch, thank you. "But, yes, he's all over the journals. I'm sure you could get in touch with him if you baited him enough. He seems to respond to it." She shrugged her shoulders slightly. "He offered to give me the nasty details, but I don't like hearing all that, you know? S'not what I'm interested in and besides, I think he might have been joking. I don't know. Had to have been there though," she said. "I'll be sure to look through everything that comes through my desk," Bertha assured Carlotta. That she knew so little about the investigation annoyed her, and she really was determined to find out more. Not just for Carlotta, but for her on insatiable curiosity. She liked being the fount of information that she was. Carlotta smiled in a fond way at Bertha and was pleased when their food arrived. Pepper sounded interesting, definitely someone she might wish to cultivate a friendship with. Even if he did not willingly provide her with information, he might let something slip in conversation that could be useful or interesting to follow up on. She would have to look specifically for his name and his entries and respond to the next one that she saw. She took a bite of the food and was pleased with ho it tasted. "I suppose they're being quite careful with what they allow people to see," she sighed heavily. "It does make sense, although if they were as incompetent as the last article in the Prophet made them out to be, I'm sure they'd be letting more things slip through." In truth, Carlotta didn't believe the Ministry was incompetent. At least, not currently. She actually approved of a number of the people who worked there, if not all of the laws that they enforced. Of course, that didn't mean that there weren't a few idiots on the staff, or that things might not slip. "It's just most curious," she stated simply. "Have you seen the Minister of Magic around much?" Carlotta was a bit curious as to how the Minister was handling all of these things that kept coming his direction. Bertha's lips pursed and she sighed a bit. "We're not as bad as all that. I like to read all the paperwork that comes by my desk, but you don't see me giving it out to people all willy-nilly, do you? Well, you're the exception, of course. I just mean, we're not as bad as that article said, 'least my department. I don't even write about it private in my magical journal, just in case." She knew for a fact that anyone in the Minister's office would be fired immediately if they let information slip the way in which the article said was happening. She licked her lips before pursing them in frustration again. "I've seen him walking to and from places. He looks tired too, I think," she mused. Bertha picked up her fork and played with it between her fingers for a moment before beginning to dig into her pie. She took a few long chews before swallowing and reaching for her water glass. "I should talk to my brother, actually. Or you could. He's the official spokesman, you know. Very important, and he knows a good deal." She preened slightly, as she tended to, when she spoke of her brother. Carlotta was amused, as she often was when Bertha perked up and mentioned her brother. Her sources were all amusing sorts of people that she enjoyed conversations with. In reality, Carlotta just enjoyed people. Perhaps it came from working with so many different types of people, Muggles, Squibs, Magical folk, you got to meet so many different types, and there was very rarely any two exactly the same. She nodded as she took some bites and considered. "I will have to do that," she agreed as she finished the food she was chewing. "Perhaps I shall set up an appointment with him here next week. Of course, I have no big story I am working on at the moment," lies, all lies, as Carlotta was nearly always considering some story. "And of course, anyone that actually works in the Media knows the truth about information slippage. Reporters do enjoy exaggerating details from time to time I believe." Certainly she'd been known on occasion to stretch facts, or at the very least, report them in a way that most benefited her version of a story. "It would be an exhausting job," Carlotta tsked again, using her napkin to wipe her mouth. "I certainly would not want it at this point in time. I wonder how he manages at all, knowing what is out there and the fear the people really must feel at this juncture." She took a sip of her coffee and then continued eating. "I'll tell him to expect it," Bertha said before hushing up for a bit so that she could continue to enjoy her food food. Usually she was left eating her own cooking, or her mum's. Neither was horrible, but she liked to enjoy it when she was able to eat outside of one of her two homes. Her body certainly seemed to agree, and Bertha found that that headache she'd been anticipating was receding slowly. Her mum would have said it meant that she needed to take better care of herself and simply make it a point to eat real meals all of the time. This time she reached for her coffee, savoring the taste of chocolate in it as she gulped it down. More caffeine was the last thing Bertha needed in her body, but she indulged anyway before grabbing her fork again. "No story, Carlotta? That's no good. What am I supposed to look forward to?" she teased lightly. Bertha didn't read much of the newspapers so much as she did things like muggle tabloids. Those tended to be more where her interests laid, unless there was so huge story breaking in the Prophet. She'd buy two copies then, even. "I suppose I'd be worried about my job, if I were him," she shrugged. "All these bombings and attacks happening on his watch. I can't imagine people will stand for it much longer, can you? Not to mention allowing the Death Eaters to get so... I don't know... influential? Big as they are, anyway, that they can organize all this destruction and what not." "There's so few of them, relatively speaking," Carlotta shook her head. "But they have certainly grown to making themselves heard over the past year, and this..." Carlotta broke off. She was certain that this would only be the tip of the iceberg, so to speak, but she didn't want to say that. In truth, although she would say a good many things with her quill, and probably would continue to do so until someone made it so she could lift her quill no more, speaking of matters in a public place such as this was not something she truly wanted to do after the events at the Quidditch match. She drank more of her own coffee and wondered vaguely if the Minister would last out the year. After all, things were only getting worse and when the dust settled, as it would no doubt do in another few days, people were going to have questions and the Prophet had only begun to stir those questions up. "You're a darling, Bertha," Carlotta said with a friendly smile. "I'm sure conversing with your brother will be most useful, and one can't have a story going all of the time - I do have my events and societies to attend to," and Carlotta was ready to make certain that the event was the event of the year. "I've decided on a venue, you know." This was her repayment to Bertha for her gossip - outside of the meal of course - discussion of the upcoming benefits, who would be on the invite list, where it would be, whom might be speaking. It served both as natural publicity for the event as well as providing Bertha with information she was sure to enjoy pondering later. "Ooh?" Bertha asked, almost immediately, her pitch going up a bitch in her excitement. She looked eagerly at Carlotta and bit her lip so as to keep her words from spilling out all at once. "Oh?" she said again, sounding normal this time and managing not to look too enthused. "Where's that going to be? And have you heard from anyone about coming for sure? I know you've not sent out invitations yet if you've just gotten the venue, but you must have talked to people? Do you have any large donors yet?" She paused for a moment before adding with hopeful eyes, "extra tickets, perhaps?" She looked back down then, quickly going back to her food for the moment. She really had no shame when it came to getting gossip, information, and of course the invitations into the biggest events of the year. What was the point of having connections like this if you couldn't somehow work them to your advantage? "I only ask," she said, looking up from underneath her eyelashes. "Because, you know, I'm sure it's to be a lovely time. Everyone's going to be there, I'll bet." "Oh, I'm certain there will be a number of people that will be attending," Carlotta nodded. "And it will be a lovely time," she gave Bertha a smile. "I suppose we might be able to come up with something. I suppose I will have to consider the guest list. That's what I need to do this upcoming week actually," she took another bite of her food and considered what she was going to do. "I do of course have hints of several large donors, but as I haven't settled them yet -" Carlotta shrugged. "You know how it is, you don't want to scare people away. I am working on entertainment of course, a speaker, and perhaps some musical numbers of some variety. I haven't decided yet. You don't have any ideas do you?" "What about Celestina Warbeck?" Bertha suggested immediately, thinking of the young singer. She really didn't know many of the wizarding singers, much preferring muggles. She was quite the fan of rock n' roll. "Or classical music. That's always appropriate, isn't it? There've got to be plenty of orchestras and bands. I'd take the Beatles, quite honestly, but you know I'm quite Muggle when it comes down to it." Bertha had simply never quite picked up wizarding popular culture except for when it pertained to her gossip. It had never bothered her much. "Just remember," she laughed lightly. "That with me there, you'll know what's going on. Even you can't be everywhere at once, Carlotta and it'd be a shame if you missed some of the best news from your own party, I think. I'd just feel horrible, and we can't have that." Carlotta could not help but laugh at that. It was true that she could not be everywhere at once and although she would direct the House Elves and the entire thing would be prepared before hand, with every last detail arranged, she was hoping for a large turn out. And frankly she was hoping that all of the disasters that had occurred would bring out larger numbers of people who were willing to help those in need. Of course, as those in need were Squibs, she was uncertain how the current political climate would effect the turnout. She could only hope that it would not be a negative thing. Carlotta had considered Celestina Warbeck, of course. Her own tastes in music certainly ran more classical. She'd also considered vaguely having some of the Quidditch Players come in to speak, those who were interested in supporting the cause - not a lot, just a few words in support. It wasn't as if they were going to have a good deal to do with the current situation being as it was. And perhaps particularly some that had been playing on Saturday - if nothing else it might prove to be excellent publicity. "Well, Bertha, you know I'd be dreadful at picking out Muggle music, wouldn't know a beetle from a monkey I'm afraid, but I will consider the suggestion. If you think of any other ideas, do let me know over the journals." She took the final bite and raised the napkin to her lips to wipe her mouth. The first thing that came to Bertha's mind was that the Monkees hadn't been popular in years, since she'd been just hitting the double digits. Not to mention they hadn't been very good at all. But then she realised that Carlotta would likely have no idea what she meant, and had obviously just been using a turn of phrase. She needed to not take everything so literally. She nodded when Carlotta mentioned the journals again. "'Course I will," she said, though not being in those rich circles, she did have to admit that she didn't know exactly what they found interesting these days, but she would still try. "I don't think the lot going to your party's going to want Muggle stuff anyway. Best stick to what you know. Either way, it's going to be brilliant," Bertha added with a shrug as she finished off her coffee. "Nothing else coming to me off the top of my head," she said after a moment had passed. It wasn't unusual, her memory being the sieve it was. "About anything, I mean, not just the ball. Shall we leave it to the journals?" Perhaps something juicy would have happened by the time she reached home and she could write Carlotta then. Carlotta nodded with a smile. "Ah yes, I think that's a wonderful idea. Bertha, thank you so much for such delightful conversation this evening." She took a drink of the last of her coffee and begin to gather her things to go. She would, of course, take care of the check. That was the way these dinners worked. And the conversation, while some might find it inane, was quite fascinating to her and had proven to be the source of at least one or two articles since they had began having dinner together periodically. For now, however, it seemed there was nothing else that would be particularly useful to them. She took the check and counted out the number of galleons and sickles required to make the payment. "We shall do this again sometime, won't we?" Even had they not had such interesting bits of conversation, Carlotta might have made the effort anyway. It did get rather lonely in her large house with no one around but the house elves and the kneazles. Eagerly, Bertha nodded. She wasn't one to turn down a free meal and anyone who did was rather foolish in her opinion. And, yes, she liked Carlotta as well. Anyone who would listen to her prattle was quite worth the time. "In another few weeks, I'd hope," she smiled as brightly as she ever did, which wasn't very much or very often. Carlotta was just special that way, she supposed. She ran a hand through her hair as she stood from the table and nodded at Carlotta. "Travel safely and all that, I guess, and I'll see you soon. It's been quite nice." When she finally turned to leave, she gave the older woman a tiny wave before slinging her bag over her shoulder and heading to exit the restaurant. |