The Three Broomsticks: Order of the Joberknoll

[veneficusvenato]

[ OOC Post Details Here ]

The Three Broomsticks has closed every Thursday night since before the end of the last war. Each of the new owners has followed suit when they picked up the place. The second one said it had to do with luck and honors. And Jo Harvelle, who snuck into the place more times than any could count a decade ago, seems to be following in all their stead with an easy, unruffable grace.






The Closed sign hangs carelessly askew, like normal, and the windows are dark.

(And it will remain that way unless you have an invitation of some kind.)

Comments

[trickswithsticks]

"It's terrible, is what it is," she says cheerily. "I'm a regular little trouble maker."

She takes a seat at his table, cupping her glass in her hands to warm them.

"And with students here and everything. What a terrible example I'm setting."

[carpefatorummea.livejournal.com]

Sam lets her words draw his attention to the others in the room, the few who are so obviously still children in every way but their own opinions.

Smirk just slightly more helpless, more bemused.

"You know, the seriousness of the meeting is cut down a little when you realize there are kids here who had to dodge their house leader or whatever to get to the bar."

[trickswithsticks]

"Yeah, well you know what?" Leah says, with a casualness that doesn't quite fit with the conversation, but is backed with knowing her students. "That's the Head Boy and Girl, and the youngest member of Robin's group in Nottingham."

Which may or may not mean anything to him, but she figures it's easy enough to point out.

"If names mean anything to you," and it's fine if they don't, she's not that into them herself, "then that's also Lilian Crumrin's grandson and Dinah Drake-Lance's daughter."

[carpefatorummea.livejournal.com]

"So the ability to be a good Auror is genetic now?"

There's a swallow taken from the flask before he shakes his head, leaning forward to speak with her more seriously. "I'm not questioning their right to be here. There's enough authority in the room to back them up without pulling out a formal genealogy."

Besides, genetics means shit when it comes to professionalism, even ability.

...is what he'll say, if asked.

Sam prefers not to be asked, though.

[trickswithsticks]

Which attitude actually earns him a smile and increased respect from Leah, who's always considered herself to be from the part of the gene pool that gets used as a toilet.

She toasts the idea with her drink.

"No," she says, "but you were questioning the seriousness of it. And after the news you brought last time, you know how many people took the time off school to attend a funeral?"

One.

[carpefatorummea.livejournal.com]

That has him glancing toward the students again, humor fading. But while it might be sad, it's not unexpected. Or as awful as it could be.

"I hope no one's told them it gets easier."

Having your friends, your colleagues get killed off, one by one. In this day and age, in this line of work.

He looks back at her just in time for the toast and raises the flask - too late, but the effort was there. "What do you teach, by the way? I don't think I asked last time."

[trickswithsticks]

With a sigh that's been a long time coming, "these kids? They already know it doesn't."

She'll run with the less heavy topic. "History of Magic, for my sins. You can tell me you hated it, now."

[carpefatorummea.livejournal.com]

There's a blink and a slow grin, tucking the flask back into his cloak and folding his arms on top of the table to face her. "No, I liked history. I mean, my professor was alive - still boring, but alive. Point was, I read a lot."

[trickswithsticks]

"Either someone told ou about my predeccessor or you've just come up with a subtle way to insult me." She's amused by it, in any case.

"What was your favourite part?"