InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "42"

skeet (classless) wrote in unexpectedrpg,
@ 2008-07-16 00:54:00

Entry tags:

adrian pucey, daphne greengrass

WHO: Adrian Pucey and Daphne Greengrass-Potter
WHEN: Tuesday, July 1, 2002 (at 6 o'clock!)
WHERE: The Leaky Cauldron
WHAT: Adrian needs moral (*snicker*) support
RATING: PG-13 for language, I'm sure
STATUS: Closed/In Progress

Though he'd tried playing it off as though he didn't care too much for their little meeting, Adrian really was in desperate need of the company. The fact that the legislation had just been enforced several weeks ago was bad enough-- but now the fucks at the Ministry had paired him off with Millicent Bulstrode, of all sodding people. Of course, he was saved by the fact that they weren't mandated to live with one another or consummate the marriage, and that she had opted to not take on his last name.

But still, in the very near future, they'd actually be related to one another. Only as a legal formality, but still. The very idea of it all made him cringe. Made him drink, too. Something he'd done very well to stay away from until the events of last night.

"Stupid fucking cow," he muttered, then slid his glass forward for another much-needed refill as he waited for Daphne to show.

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ex_transcend779
2008-07-16 07:16 pm UTC (link)

Daphne was stuck at the ministry trying to finish a bit of paper work before she left. Harry had already gone home and she told him she'd be a bit late. How late, she wasn't sure, but surely enough not to make him worry. That was the last thing they needed after their last little fit. However, the excuse of getting owl treats seemed good enough and she'd go with that. As long as she remembered to actually get them.

Finally when six rolled around, she stuffed all of her pieces of parchment into one pile and left as quickly as possible, not even dealing with people on her way out, but just apparating straight outside of the Leaky. She didn't have time to fight with crowds or anything. She said six, she had to be there at six.

Pulling the door open, Daphne straightened herself out a bit, wand shoved away for safe keeping and her eyes scanning the place for Adrian. Spotting him, she rolled her eyes a bit and approached, taking the seat beside him. "Starting without me?" she asked coyly, raising her finger for one fire whiskey. Daphne had mostly stopped drinking, but she could indulge a little, right?

Finally turning to him, she offered him a small, supportive smile. "How're you holding up?"

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classless
2008-07-17 02:06 am UTC (link)

He glanced at Daphne just briefly as she made her presence known, shrugging his shoulders slightly as he took a drag from a stale cigarette-- bitter aftertaste, but what could he do? Millicent had only just offered him a pack last night as a sort of truce offering, and then had stolen them again for herself (or just to spite him, he couldn't tell) before disappearing from the pub. "Seemed like a good idea at the time, I guess. I actually got here half an hour early, and had nothing better to do."

How sad was he?

He propped his elbows on the bar top, arms crossed as he contemplated yet another refill. Couldn't hurt, could it?

"Not well at all, hence me sitting here alone for thirty minutes, looking like a sad, melodramatic little fuck while waiting on you. They fucking paired me off with Bulstrode, you know? And the stupid, sodding, offensive (well-- wasn't that just the pot calling the kettle black?) little cow is being difficult."

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ex_transcend779
2008-07-18 03:48 pm UTC (link)

Hearing that Adrian had been paired up with Millicent, Daphne was slightly taken aback and looked at him. "They paired you with that twat?" She questioned in disgust, taking a sip of her drink. A face was given towards both the thought of Adrian, whom she still cared about, being married to a wildebeest and the alcohol that she had been cut off from for so many years.

Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed him momentarily, thinking of something. "I won't have it. You can't marry her. Lock yourself up where they can't find you and wait it out. Or ... flee the country. Just don't give in." She scoffed at that thought, taking another sip. Daphne didn't even want think about Millicent marrying Adrian. She always thought he deserved better.

"I guess ... I guess it could have been worse." She shrugged sympathetically, realizing she didn't really have any idea what she was saying. She thought she had it bad, but he seemed to have won this battle. Plus, Daphne happened to care deeply for Harry, even if she wouldn't let any of her friends ever find out.

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classless
2008-07-20 11:06 pm UTC (link)

"Except that the decision isn't really up to you, is it? I can't afford the fines-- and she's through paying them for the both of us, so I can't depend on her anymore. Azkaban was never a fucking option to begin with, and I'd be more than happy to leave this crap country if I even knew anyone out of the UK. I mean, my dad and his family are somewhere in Marseille, but that could never work. So what choice do I have but to go through with it?" he explained, an ill-humoured laugh on the tails of that.

"You're more optimistic than I am, then. Have you actually seen her since your seventh year--?" he asked incredulously, eyebrows raised as he tilted his glass back against his lips. "Probably weighs close to fifteen stones, and she fucking smells like cats. Fucking hag."

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ex_transcend779
2008-07-20 11:21 pm UTC (link)

Daphne quickly swallowed the rest of her drink and set the glass on the bar for a refill. "Adrian, you know I would rather you depend on me than a cow. If you need money for fines, or for ... anything, I'd be more than happy to help you out," she offered sincerely, avoiding eye contact with him. Why Daphne always felt obliged to help people out financially, she wasn't sure, but he was close to being a friend and she wanted to help. "Mum and dad have a place in Paris, too. And you know they can't extradite you over there for something you did in another country." She shrugged and picked up her second drink as it arrived, thanking the bar tender.

Hearing what he had to say about Millicent, Daphne released a quiet laugh. "It could be worse, you know. They could be all for same sex marriage and stick you with Flint for Malfoy. Or shit, you could have been stuck with me and then you're really hate your life." Which was true. Daphne almost felt bad for Harry. Having to be stuck with her for a long period of time normally resulted in something not so premium.

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classless
2008-07-21 04:50 am UTC (link)

"She might be a cow, but she's a cow with money. And I don't mind taking advantage of that, if anything. You've done enough for me, even if you're flat was fucking depressingly empty."

He shook his head at her offer to take up her parent's residence in Paris; a bit odd for him, considering he'd never rejected any sort of charity before. He'd never been the poster boy for self-sufficiency, having only worked a few odd jobs in his teens-- none of which lasted over several weeks or provided decent wages. And when he wasn't working, he didn't really do anything at all. Took advtange of his mother's constant and unconditional support and used the money to indulge in some of his not-so-admirable habits, as well as a bit of an investment in some petty peddling.

So, needless to say, it wasn't in his nature to turn down monetary support, especially when there were no strings attached. Taking money from Daphne was different. Plenty of peers (and adults as well) had already deemed him lowly and pathetic, and while he honestly didn't give a whit about anyone else's regard for him, Daphne was different. Annoyingly so.

"Fuck, at this point, I could honestly take a civil-partnership. Given that it wouldn't be either Flint or Malfoy, of course. Mum might throw herself off the roof of the building, though. Millicent might as well be a fucking saint in her eyes, a way back into the fucking snotty little pureblood social circles. It's fucking stupid, and I hope Caractacus just keeps writing her off anyway. Probably will."

Finishing the last of his umpteenth drink, he turned his head just so, regarding her with a bit of skepticism and disbelief as she casually brought up what life might've been like had they been paired off together instead.

"You fucking nutter, that would've been perfect. Granted you're bi-polar and half of what you say doesn't make any sense, but I think we get along decently. We are right now anyway, right?"

He then turned to face the front of the bar, nudging his glass forward for yet another refill. "Not that it matters anymore. Fucking Potter-- you would've thought that Shacklebolt would've granted him some sort of scarheaded hero immunity to the fuck, and then he might be exempt from the legislation."

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