WHO: Adrian Pucey and Megan Jones WHERE: Quality Quiddith Supplies in Diagon Alley WHEN: July 28, 2002 -- we'll say early evening. WHAT: Just a random first meeting. RATING: PG-13 at the most, for Adrian's mouth. STATUS: Closed/Incomplete
Adrian knew the layout of the store like the back of his hand; despite having never bought anything from Quality Quidditch Supplies (unless Daphne's gift was the exception?), it was one of the stores he'd frequented the most. Not to mention he'd worked part-time as a stock boy the summer following his seventh year. The fact that he couldn't really afford much of what the shop had to offer never kept him from coming. Instead, it was a bit of a comfort to be surrounded by top-notch professional brooms and the like. Just because he didn't have the money didn't mean he couldn't dream a little, though lately, his career aspirations had actually become a reality.
At the moment, he needed to be surrounded by something familiar, something to get his mind off the past two weeks and the wretched time he'd been having. And sodding Daphne Greengrass-Potter, her too -- his supposed best friend.
Some fucking friend. His credibility to both the Ministry and the official Quidditch league had been threatened by her husband, and for the simple fact that he didn't like Adrian. And she'd just dismissed it, the offense forgotten as if it wasn't anything terribly important.
Never mind that an unnecessary interrogation and Azkaban time had been thrown in with the threat.
"Fuck her -- fuck them both," he muttered darkly and to no one particular, and because he wasn't exactly paying attention, he ended up reaching for the same broomstick servicing kit that another customer had been trying to snatch up. He looked down, noticed that he was tugging on one end while the other customer was pulling on the other -- brows furrowed and eyes narrowed as she shot him a glare.
He returned the same pointed look, refusing to loosen his grip on the kit. After all, it was the only one left. "You wanted this?"