Who: Michael Rosier and Lee Jordan What: Just two guys at Starbeaks When: Earlier today some time, April 4th Where: Diagon Alley Status: Complete!
In retrospect, wandering alone in Diagon Alley when he was apparently being watched by the DMLE as a potential member of the Order of the Phoenix probably was not the best idea. But Lee was doing the same all the same. He had avoided going anywhere near the Weasley shop, even though it was pretty obvious in the Alley that the shop was out of commission. He drew in a breath as he approached Starbeaks (hey, it wasn't a suspicious time of the year anymore), and was pleasantly surprised at the lack of patrons.
Instead, he spotted a familiar ginger — and not a Weasley to boot. Lee's instinct was to scoff at Rosier's general presence, but a teeny tiny part of him was excited all the same. He tried to squash that excitement as he ordered his drink, and patiently waited for it, despite wanting to make a snide remark to the other customer.
But he couldn't keep himself quiet for very long. "Are you stalking me?" he asked, grabbing his drink as it was handed to him by the barista. Lee gave Michael a snide smirk, though he glanced towards the entrance all the same. He didn't need to be arrested right now (or ever).
Michael looked up from his phone, registering his company for the first time. “Yes,” he deadpanned. “Can’t keep my eyes off of you. You know how it is.”
Lee Jordan was quickly starting to become even more annoying than the Weasleys, which should be impossible. Michael and Montague should definitely do something about that. With that in mind he took the coffee presented to him by the barista, and glanced back at Lee, his brain starting to run through a number of ideas on how to pull that off.
"Not that I blame you," Lee started, taking a seat across from Rosier, despite not being invited to do so. He did stare at Michael with absolutely no intention of hiding his suspicion and raised a brow, as he took a cautious small sip from his cup — he certainly didn't want to hurry and burn the roof of his mouth again.
He pursed his lips momentarily, and blinked a few times, as he set the drink down on the table. "Whose life have you ruined recently?"
And now they were sharing a table. Michael, raising his eyebrows at this particular development, took a drink as well. “I’m not the one burning down whole Ministry departments,” he said, pulling his phone out. Contemplating whether he should alert Montague that one of his persons of interests were sitting here, actually speaking to him. Decided against it, for the moment. “Or blow up dessert tables.”
"And what, you think that's me?" Lee asked, a rather snotty smile appearing on his face. "I'm flattered, but …," he trailed off, shrugging a bit. He was torn between wanting to come out and admit his involvement and flat out denying it, but really, there was no point in either. Instead, he shrugged again and took another sip of the drink. "Besides, if I had been in the Ministry that night, I certainly wouldn't be here right now talking about it, despite the DMLE being full of wankers."
Michael shrugged, scrolling through his phone as Lee talked. “Point is, I don’t ruin lives. I do my job, I do it well, and meanwhile vigilantes run around blowing shit up. If anyone’s ruining lives, it’s you. Them. Whatever.”
Lee rolled his eyes but remained quiet. His eyes scanned Rosier, as though he was secretly inspecting him for any potential threats. And then his gaze fell on Rosier's lips and Lee forced himself to look away, his conversation with George coming to haunt him at that very moment. He cleared his throat, and let his focus fall on one of the baristas. Who'd been engaging in a conversation with her coworker about something so mundane that Lee couldn't bother hearing the rest of that riveting conversation.
He suddenly felt restless and started shaking his head and somehow, couldn't seem to stop. He knew full well that this was all a byproduct of the anxiety he had been building up in the past few months, along with the coffee smell that was just triggering him slightly.
And then he cleared his throat again. "Anyway, right then, as thrilling as this experience has been, I'd better get going before Montague shows up." He made to stand up, being careful with his drink so that it didn't spill over.
Michael noticed Lee’s slip, and couldn’t help but letting a slight smirk flit across his lips. He occasionally made people nervous, just by association, but it was rarely this obvious. Or maybe he was just paying more attention than he should. Hard to say. “You do that,” he remarked. “He should be here in… oh, the next two minutes or so.”
He hadn’t actually texted Montague, of course. But Lee Jordan didn’t know that.
Lee rolled his eyes, though he wasn't entirely sure that Rosier wouldn't have done just that. Just to be safe, Lee conspicuously made sure his wand was still with him and hadn't slipped somewhere. He made sure to give Rosier the finger, and used his middle finger as a salute. "And I hope you have an awful evening too, asshole."
But as he slipped away to the door, Lee had a stupid smirk on his face all the same.