"No, never. That would be Hermione Granger." Lavender put her wand away and then led him down the path toward the restaurant. "I'm direct. Huge difference. I know what I want and right now, I want a rather obscenely large sirloin."
She led him into the restaurant. Soon they were seated at one of those tables with very tall chairs in the bar, drinks in front of them. Lavender rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward, chin in hands. Of course she'd heard all the rumours about Zach Smith and his career with the Falcons. She'd written about a few of those rumours in her column.
As far as she recalled, he wasn't really the public sort of person.
Good thing she hadn't given him the choice to decline.
"So no trade secrets," she said, plucking the cherry out of her very frilly, very tropical drink. "And I'll assume that questions about the Facons are off the table judging by how Monica was given the heave-ho when she tried to interview you."
She grinned. "So you ask the questions. Let me figure you out based on what you ask me."