InsaneJournal

WHO: Mikael Harper, Theodore Nott
WHEN: Backdated to a time I haven't figured out yet.
WHERE: Leaky Cauldron
WHAT: Drinking! Deep conversation.
RATING: E, yes?
STATUS: In Progress


As was typical of the establishment, it was dimly lit. Most of the time it was inhabited by those from out of town with a scattering of locals interested in what the outside world was brining into London. It wasn’t a particularly busy night but the clusters of witches and wizards were enough to make a decent amount of noise to drown out any irritating silence that would threaten to take over had there been fewer patrons. Though noise, especially senseless racket, irritated Theodore it would be better to have it than not. There was no sense in falling into pensive thought at this point in time.

Theo had recovered, by now, from the ailment that had sent him to the wretched hospital but he’d retained a sense of uneasiness because of the encounter there. It was the unexpected and entirely unwelcome run in with his future wife that had caused him to risk crowds of possibly idiotic people and boisterous sound to sit at the bar in the Leaky Cauldron. He hunched over the glass, seemingly protective of the contents, picking it up to tilt back and forth occasionally as though determining how long it would take to have gone. The sleeves of his dress shirt were pushed up to his elbows s an indication of seriousness about what he’d come to do. At least he was intending to sit here alone, which seemed, in his mind to negate the less than favorable connotations of spending time in bar.

The glass was lifted and the drink was swallowed in a single go. It inevitably lead to a brief cringing but well worth the initial trouble. At least he had a valid excuse for the drinking now – the Ministry was out to ruin all sane semblance of life. The glass was set roughly down on the bar and nudged away; discarded for the time being.