Who: Eugene Ackerley & Rosmerta Diggory When: Night; 29th March Where: Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, Scotland. What: Not a date? A date? Not a date? IDK. Rating: Low!...I guess?
Right. Hogsmeade was a bit of a hike for a pint no matter how proper it was, and so his shift ended he spent his time washing up wondering if maybe he should reconsider and let Rosmerta know that, though he'd love to, maybe another time would be better. By another time, of course, he meant never. It wasn't that he hadn't enjoyed talking to her and it certainly wasn't that he didn't think they'd have a nice chat (whether it was a date or not -- even he wasn't sure) and that in so many ways was the problem. He was horrible at this and in general preferred to avoid the whole idea of 'women' because it was just easier that way.
It wasn't really a new thing for him either. He'd been awkward and shy and a little bit weird when he'd first got on with Dev -- but seeing how that ended with her deciding she didn't really like men at all he really couldn't help but be even a touch more wand-shy on the issue this time around.
Still, he was a gentleman (or at least, standing in his wash-up room and looking at himself in the mirror in his office at St. Mungo's, he was telling himself that that was what he was) and a gentleman would never tell a lady he was going somewhere and then fail to show up. Even if that place be Scotland.
He took perhaps a bit longer than normal tidying himself up, fixing his hair and then mussing it up because it looked a bit too fixed. He worried about what he was wearing, wished he'd decided to go with the other shirt that morning instead of the one he'd picked and then, (after a swig of Firewhiskey from the bottle in his desk for good luck) he was finally ready to go.
***
The air in Hogsmeade was seasonal and Eugene kept his scarf up around his face as he trudged through the wettish ground from the spot he'd apparated from to the Three Broomsticks. He waited for a heartbeat-and-a-half at the door to the pub before finally pushing it open and walking in with a bit of a faux-casual gait that problem spoke more to how uncomfortable he was feeling than had he come in with an awkward stumble. Still, he pulled his scarf loose and closed the distance between the bar -- Rosmerta -- and himself. He popped up on a stool and gave her a smile.