( Da ) Interactions. - Blog Posts
"A mother's hopes and wishes, all in the gutter," Daphne replied in the same humorous tone. Pureblood households and their dedication to etiquette was unwavering, she remembered the gruelling lessons of her own — Merlin forbid they forgot which fork to stab themselves with. Cleaning the handkerchief as well, she neatly folded it on the table next to her.
"Then I'd say you have a golden business opportunity on your hands — I know plenty Ministry colleagues willing to pay a fortune for a prescribed vacation," Daphne replied. "Ah, dinner with your parents — wedding preparations I assume?"
"I fear that is something my mother has been trying for years and look where it has landed me." He teased. Manners was something he prided himself on, used in the right context. There was a concern for Daphne. "You can keep it." He had more of them at home.
"And if I do?" It wasn't hard to pay the right person to give him what he wanted, or bribe them, there was always something available at the tip of his fingers. He sits down beside her. "I am free for now. Dinner with my parents later, but I don't mind keeping them waiting."
If there was one virtue Daphne luckily possessed, it was that of patience. Years of tip-toeing around the Avery estate, needing to pick the exact moment when to move and when to stay silent — she had never been rustled easily, and today was not when she was about to start, not when she needed a drink. Still, that didn't mean she was going to give in easily — especially not when someone wanted her to.
"I don't care to fix what is your problem, not mine. If you wanted to sit somewhere by yourself undisturbed, you should have chosen a less busy pub," Daphne spoke in a matter-of-fact way, little indication of emotion in the words, However, at the sight of the cigarettes and smoke blown directly towards her, she couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her.
Picking a slim menthol cigarette from her purse, she demonstratively put it to her lips. Though she did not intend to be very petty about this situation — showing that she was the mature one in this conversation — Daphne felt something take over about half way through her smoke. Head tilted to the other side, she 'accidentally' dropped her cigarette into the witch's drink to extinguish. Doe-eyed and innocent looking, she turned back, feigning an apologetic expression. "Oops."
The witch was going to be a pain in Georgette's ass. It was obvious from the first words out of her mouth. Not that she would expect anything less. It was an example of why she never wanted to interact with other people. She may have had an attitude but that didn't give others license to have one, no matter how hypocritical that sounded. If approached the right way then maybe Georgette wouldn't be such a bitch but that's not how anyone greeted her.
"I'll close my eyes where I please," she said looking at Daphne, a witch she didn't even know. Obviously a no one. "Sounds like a problem you need to fix. Has nothing to do with me." Georgette rubbed her temples as Daphne didn't speak. At least wasn't speaking for a moment but of course her annoying voice perked up again.
Georgette took out her cigarettes. Maybe the smoke would make her go away. She lit the cigarette, inhaled and exhaled, making sure smoke went in Daphne's direction without blowing it directly in her face.
"In my defense, I thought you were one of the bar hangers back there, spotting a moment of weakness and deciding to take their chance to save a damsel in distress," Daphne shrugged apologetically, gratefully noting the fact that Emma's stance provided a barrier between her and those previously mentioned bar hangers. "I would be very grateful for your help — I'm running out of tissue to soak through and I really do not have the energy to redo this paperwork because of the blood."
"Is that how you greet all your friends?" Emma raised an eyebrow unfazed by the glare directed at her. She didn't take it personally, standing in front of Daphne as if blocking her from other people's view. People loved to gossip after all. "I guess you don't want my help then?" As a quidditch player she was used to getting blood out of various things, but Emma would step back if Daphne didn't want her input.
The charming smile that marked Evelyn Zabini's face immediately softened the glare on her own, replaced by an expression that was vaguely apologetic — though still half hidden under a blood stained tissue. "Sorry, paperwork tends to make me act a bit cranky." Harpy-like was the expression some of her co-workers preferred, but Daphne did very little to dismiss that reputation.
"Admiring? Well, I'm glad to hear you enjoyed me with blood gushing down my face," She replied jokingly, casting an Episkey now that the bleeding had slowed enough for her to grab her wand. Once the damage was fixed and cleaned, she offered Evelyn a smile of her own in return. "It's lovely to see you too."
"It's barely past lunch time — of course I'm still working!" Somewhat of a workaholic, Daphne occasionally left the Ministry offices as late as 9 PM. However, the drinks put in front of her by Evelyn were compelling. At the very least, she could have a long lunch. "I can't say no to a gorgeous face like that, but you can't get me too sloshed — I do actually need to finish this proposal by tomorrow."
Evelyn had never been the sort to retire to her home after a long day of work. Unless of course there was someone she was meeting at said home. Otherwise she liked to make plans with others, she preferred a busy evening enjoying herself over the solitude of being at home. While she'd not had plans for the day, it made little difference to her. She made her way to the Leaky Cauldron, hopeful that surely she could find someone to keep her company or to entertain her at the very least.
Stepping into the pub, she took in her surroundings, searching for a familiar face. She smiled as she spotted Daphne, making her way to the bar she ordered them both a drink before she headed to Daphne's table. A laugh slipped past her lips as Daphne whirled on her and she flashed her a charming smile. "Nice to see you too Daphne. And I wasn't staring...only admiring." She assured her with a playful little wink. Without asking she moved to sit down across from her friend, groaning as she saw what was spread out. "You can't possibly still be working." She set the drinks down and shook her head. "I think it's time to call it a day." She had little care that it was only noon.
"Well, someone ought to teach you some manners," Daphne replied, though her tone was light and teasing now that she knew the face belonged to someone familiar, not a stranger. Taking the handkerchief, she cleaned up the last of the blood pouring from her nose. "Thank you."
"No need for a Healer, unless you know one that prescribes a month long holiday as cures?" She joked, before casting a quick Cleaning Charm on the affected area — as she finished, Daphne gestured for Lucius to take a seat. "If you're not meeting someone else, of course."
Lucius was meeting with a wizard to handle business. Curious if the outcome would aid in their cause, insistent that they would get great allies, and though the man wished for a night to think, he was quite certain they would come around to his view. There were other ways to get what he wanted and he kept those for last resort.
The blonde did a double take, the face familiar, snorting at her words. "I was never one to be polite," Lucius teased, pulling out a handkerchief from his inside pocket for her. "Do we need to get you looked at?"
"Liar," Daphne responded with a look at the sight of his eyes roaming, though the effect it was meant to have was significantly diminished by the sudden nasal quality of her voice — caused by the tissue pressed up against it. The nosebleeds were a byproduct of some experimentation with spell invention during her youth, and her father had discouraged her from getting it fixed — what better way to support the family blood curse with evidence like that, after all?
Once the blood had stopped, Daphne finally had a hand free to reach for her wand, casting a simple Tergeo to take care of the blood on her paperwork, though small pink-toned splats still remained, already seeped through too far for her to clean. With a sigh, Daphne accepted the drink, raising it to Rabastan in cheers before taking a sip.
"Thank you, I did need that, yes," She responded after savoring the drink, nodding towards the mountains of paperwork before her. "Germans do so enjoy doing everything by the book, which means endless proposals to file and documents to spit through." It was a miracle Daphne wasn't nursing a migraine yet. "And what has gotten you drinking this early in the day?"
Having just spent too much time on the wrong side of the Leaky Cauldron, Rabastan determined he deserved a firewhisky or two. Muggles repulsed him. He could practically feel their filth tainting his existence. It was most undesirable. But he would not complain about such things, and had completed the task assigned to him by the Dark Lord efficiently.
As he waited for his drink at the bar, he considered that he would visit Gringotts next. He desired an assignment from the goblins; something that would permit him to practise as much magic as possible, to remove the smear of muggle inadequacy from his day. Turning, glass in hand, he noted Daphne attending to a wealth of work so impressive it rivelled even his own overzealous tendencies.
"I was not staring," he asserted, as he did precisely that. His eyes roamed her features, noting the nosebleed and the crimson smatters on the parchment in front of her. "Miss Avery," he drawled, sitting beside her without an invitation. "You appear to have greater need of this drink than me." Pushing it towards her, he then gestured for the barmaid to send another firewhisky to their table.
"Since you've decided on the curious choice of sitting at a bar with your eyes closed, you may not have noticed," Daphne started as she theatrically made herself comfortable on the bar stool, further proving her point. "There is no other place to sit, the place is packed." Daphne silently nursed her glass of firewhiskey, taking a small sip before putting it down again. She used the time to look at the woman next to her, noticing the splintered fingers wrapped around the glass, but not giving any indication or response in her body language. "If you want to sit somewhere by yourself, I'd suggest the floor — I'm pretty sure they cleaned it last year."
where: three broomsticks. who: open.
It wasn't often that Georgette left the confines of her beloved store, her home, where she felt most at ease but something compelled her. Her mind was foggy and she felt she needed some air and a brief change of scenery. While she didn't dare drink alcohol she did enjoy a good non-alcoholic butterbeer. Although there would be people drinking, she thought she could handle a single butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks and then head back home. Just enough time to get in and get out. She didn't want to stray for long anyway.
She sat down at the bar and ordered her drink, making it very clear she wanted no alcohol in her drink. She would hex the wizard if he tried to pull a fast one on her. As he passed her the cold beverage, her forever splintered fingers wrapped around the glass. It was a good feeling. She closed her eyes and imagined she was by herself, but Georgette could not pretend for long as she felt someone beside her.
"You could go away right now and make this easier on both of us," she said before finally opening her eyes.
"I'm fine," There was a strong emphasis on the last word, Daphne didn't enjoy looking wounded — especially not over something as stupid as tripping. Her heel had broken, and the pavement around Knockturn, with all it's jagged edges, had hurt like a bitch. On top of that, her wand had rolled away into the darkness, so she couldn't even heal herself. "If you could shine a little Lumos though, it would be appreciated."
where: knockturn alley who: open
He'd always had mixed feelings when it came to the night shift, on one side he'd much rather be home in bed with his wife, but missions during late hours were always more interesting than those happening in daytime. Sent out to check on a business that was rumored to be selling illegal dark objects, Frank was just leaving the shop when he heard a loud and piercing scream. He turned quickly towards the source of the sound, trotting towards it. "Are you okay?" The Auror asked as he came upon a figure down the alley.
WHO : daphne avery & anyone. WHERE : the leaky cauldron, diagon alley. WHEN : around lunch time.
Daphne's internship was connected to the British envoy to the ICW, and since he was usually busy or out of the country, she ended up doing a significant amount of work — however, with no one to directly supervise her, there were very few rules and even less oversight. Though there were more malicious purposes for that, Daphne most often used it to work outside of the office — currently ending up at the Leaky Cauldron. Buried in the enormous pile of work, she didn't even notice the drops of blood until they landed on the part she was reading. Nosebleed. Hastily grabbing napkins, she furiously dabbed against it before it could ruin more of the documents, until she felt eyes on her back. Instantly, she swivelled around on her chair, a glare on her face. "Staring is considered rude, you know."
