Dinner with a Friend...or Enemy?

One of the amazing things about Muggle London was that it was filled with people that wanted change as much as the next person; they were just willing to say it out loud. They were in the form of the street dramatists in Hyde Park and the Musicians that lined the pavements with their guitars in hand, singing about nothing and everything at the same time. Jenifer found herself at ease around these people because she knew that they weren’t that different. She still had hopes and dreams; they were just further away from her now. Of course that was saddening and unfair but she’d faced life a long time ago and decided that it wasn’t fair. If it was fair then life would be too easy. The Gods would have gotten no sadistic pleasure out of seeing their creations fail miserably if that was the case. Life was challenge, one that not everyone was up to. Unfortunately it was sink or swim and the latter was something Jen had been doing a lot of lately.

“Nine.” Murmuring the familiar number, Jenifer picked up the red marker pen sitting on her kitchen table and drew a red ‘X’ in the small box bearing the date of the day. She’d been counting down, what for she couldn’t quite remember but it sounded like a good idea at the time. It was something to help aid her return to sanity. Counting was weird though wasn’t it? Needless counting was really weird. Who cares though? If Jen wanted to count down from a number until she reached zero then she bloody well would! Nothing was going to stop her unless someone taped her mouth shut but that was incredibly unlikely unless someone was living in her house without her knowledge.

Glancing down at the watch clasped around her wrist, Jen sighed. She was probably going to be late and she was the one that had initiated the whole thing. The idly talks of dinner had been thrown back and forth between herself and Jess Potter while they'd been trying to curse each other and oddly enough this dinner had materialised. Somehow, earlier that evening she'd found herself writing a letter and sending it off to him with her new owl. It had been short sweet and to the point, arrive or don't arrive but the latter wasn't something she entertained. Dinner was always an interesting experience no matter who it was you were dining with.

Jen had picked out a dress. She was extremely low on formal and semi-formal attire. She would probably end up teaching in jeans and a t-shirt but she doubted her Slytherins would appreciate the 'Muggle-ness'. Not that their opinions mattered too much to her but she wanted to have respect from them even if that meant she had to curse each and every one of them into oblivion. The dress was nice enough and as Jen slipped it on she definitely thought the soft, crimson material. was a good investment. She slipped on apair of strappy heels of the same colour and after applying a quick smear of lipstick to her pale lips, Jen Apparated.

The feeling of Apparation was even more uncomfortable now than it was before. She was a little bit too thin but she was still as healthy as ever...just a bit more willowy than she had been before. Of course she had Azkaban and some Order radical to thank for that. But the Battle for Grimmauld Place had ended a while ago now. It was time to forget about that ordeal right? No, wrong. She wouldn't be completely relaxed until she had that asshole's head on her wall.

Appearing with a crack, Jen blinked a few times and waited for her vision to return to normal. She then stepped out into artificial glow of the street lamps above her and she sighed. Were candles not good enough anymore? Stupid Muggles. Really she shouldn't have been damning them. She'd suggested a Muggle restaurant but that was mostly because she didn't think Jess would be able to kill her there. Then again, he might have gotten creative in the space of time between then and...whenever they met within the next few minutes or so. Perhaps he'd pop something into her wine or just load up her food with poison. Unoriginal but not something she initially think of.

Shaking the bizarre thoughts from her mind and putting it down to all the counting she'd been doing, Jen began to walk up to the restaurant. She wasn't too late but the little silver watch clasped around her wrist said otherwise. Jen put it down to the product being faulty. Probably stolen too. It was a Christmas present from her darling brother after all.

Jess had been idly sitting at home, cooking a casserole, singing to himself (Though he'd never admit it), when a letter flew through the open window, and onto the bench. He continued whistling the song he'd been singing, and opened the letter, his happy tone slowly fading away as his brow creased in concentration. Dinner? With Jenifer?

Hmph, he'd not thought about it since the battle... ok, he'd thought about it once, but that was it. Or maybe it was twice... anyway, he smiled and put the letter down, thinking.

"But i have a casserole here," said one half of his brain, "But it's Dinner with Jenifer, and you did make a deal with her. A deal's a deal," said the other half of his brain. "Omnomnomnomnom food," said another half of Jess' brain

Finally, after much deliberation, and some more singing, Jess qrapped the casserole up and put it in his fridge, deciding he'd eat it later. He quickly dressed,throwing something on and quickly donning a tie. before apparating with a pop.

He reappeared on the sidewalk of a busy Muggle street, the evening's peak hour seeming to have just passed. He walked into the restaurant, scanning the room but seeing no sign of his dinner partner, perhaps he was a little early. "When a lady arrives by the name of Dent, please direct her to my table," he told the maître d, before sitting at a table in the corner of the room, next to the window overlooking the street, and the city beyond. As he sat there, he lit the candles on the table, to create a pleasant glow for their little area in the otherwise busy room

The throng that was making its way through London was beginning to irritate the quick-tempered brunette. It was times like these when she truly hated Muggle London. She was fine with the artists because at least they were polite but everyone else they were just so rude. Still, she managed to weave herself as elegantly between the people as possible. They had all probably just come off of the tube. The cramped conditions underground weren’t something that anyone wanted to endure after a day of work but sometimes you didn’t have much choice. Jen didn’t pity them. She would have just gotten a taxi; they were the fools that took the underground.

She passed a group of rowdy males that had probably been in the pub for most of the day and she glared at them, communicating her normal “touch or die” motto, saying, warning – whatever you wanted to call it. Thankfully they weren’t that dense and let her pass without giving her any trouble. She picked up a bit more pace then and moved quickly, yet still gracefully, through the masses. She would not trip up, she would not trip up. She had no reason to. She was rarely clumsy anymore but sometimes...well, sometimes her brother wondered how she managed to stand on her feet.

When Jen finally made it to the restaurant she nigh on dived inside. It might have been summer but it was quite cold outside in the evening and the restaurant had a cosy warmth about it, homely even. The Maître’d looked at her with disdain and Jen frowned a little. She nibbled on her bottom lip and glanced over at one of the mirrors mounted on the wall. She looked fine. Better than fine, actually. She definitely looked healthier than she’d looked in an age. There was colour in her cheeks and the scars had disappeared thanks to Robert and his miracle ...well, whatever he did to them worked to say the least. What was this guy’s problem? His missus probably chucked him out, Jen thought with a smirk.

She held his hard gaze for a few moments before deciding to speak. “Jenifer Dent?” She asked, hoping the name would ring a bell. Well, something certainly registered with him and he blanched before mumbling something along the lines of “follow me ma’am.” Jen couldn’t help but smirk in triumph. Take that, asshole! She thought happily. The man with the attitude problem stopped her at one of the tables and her dark eyes flicked to Jess. Jen smiled a little. She was genuinely lost for words. Well, not entirely. She couldn’t believe he’d actually shown up. She did have a few choice words and a few questions but the only one she managed to get out, the only one that really mattered, was, “How are you?”

Jess smiled and stood up, then walked around the table and pulled her chair out for her. "Mademoiselle," he said with a smile, always a fickler for the small things, always a gentleman, or, at least he tried to be.

((Excuse me for the god mode)) He nodded as she sat down and walked back around to his own seat. "I'm well, beside the obvious," he said, gesturing to his face, the red scars running from chin to forehead, disappearing behind the eyepatch only to reappear above, "I'm fine," he said, lying quite blantantly, "It's nice to relax and have a bit of time to myself, i'm considering going on a trip around Europe, doing what i should have done after school, not rushed into the nearest war i could," he told her with a chuckle.

"It's been a short and interesting life," he said, zoning out for a second while he thought. "Sorry," he said, snapping back into the present, "I'm a very nostalgic fellow," he said with a chuckle.

"So, to what do i owe the honour?" He asked, "Any particular reason for this evening, or are we just following up on our agreement?" He asked, wondering what he'd eat, if it wasn't nostalgic thoughts, it was those of food

Like most women, Jen had a soft spot for chivalry but that didn’t mean she became some sort of soppy idiot in the process. It was nice, that’s all, and she appreciated it. The brain was an odd thing, especially Jen’s. It had been going over things that it hadn’t had to in the last few weeks and she was mentally exhausted. Something like this she could handle and it was enough to keep her wake as well as sober because drowning her sorrows in a bottle of red using Rob’s money was just the way he’d find her after he’d finished doing his moping and emerged from the dark cave that was once his bedroom. Life was not for the faint of heart it seemed.

An apology was on the tip of Jen’s tongue knowing that it had been her spell that had been the cause of the scar on his face and the obvious sight problem. You could apologize however many times you wanted but eventually they lost their meaning. It was the wrong time, Jen felt, the wrong time to apologize. She owed him one but not yet. “Ah, yes.” She nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps it would have been more ideal to do so had the opportunity to escape arisen at the time.” She sounded a little bit too formal but that mattered not. She knew she’d relax eventually.

“Quite.” Jen smiled; a flicker of amusement in her eyes. She played idly with the odd decoration in the middle of the table and she fiddled with the flowers, wondering if they were real or not. She stopped playing with the decor when he spoke again and she raised her eyebrow a little before lowering it once more. “Agreements, sanity, company – take your pick.” She shrugged. “Dinner can never be avoided and it is better in more...pleasurable company I think. It makes the necessity of the practice less boring.”

Jess nodded, she certainly had a few good points. He watched as she played about with the funny little ornament on the table, a candelabra, it looked like, adorned with lots of miniature flowers of different colours. "It's nice isn't it, the way they try to cheer things up a little." he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "They're fake though, flowers die, and can react badly with people and their breathing," he said sadly, thinking of a friend of his who was allergic, before chuckling.

"I remember when i was a wee lad, a friend and I were out playing in the rural areas of scotland. We saw a field of wildflowers, quite a rare occurrence for the time of year, and decided we'd go fetch some for our families." he told her, "We ran there and climbed over the fence, careful not to get caught on the barbed wire protection the property, and ran to the field. Once we were there i started a game of tip and we ran through the field, until finally i tackled him and declared myself the winner," he said, remembering the scene clearly, "of course, a few seconds later my friend started sneezing, and his eyes began to water, and he started to complain of an almighty pain aroudn his nose. Running as fast as we could we got back home soon enough, where it was determined he was allergic to the pollen, poor sod." he said with a laugh, glad he could be open with Jen

Grasping his wand he procured a rose below the table and pulled it out to show Jen. "Try a real one," he told her, leaning over the table and tucking it into the candelabra on her side. "Smells nicer than plastic, that's for sure," he said with a grin

Jen tried to imagine the scene Jess was describing. It was a rather odd. But what was so odd about it? Probably the fact that Jen had never thought to turn the clock back that far with someone, not even a friend. Jess was...well, not exactly a friend nor an enemy yet here he was letting her in and telling her about something as simple as a childhood memory. The odd part was probably the fact that it was about allergies. That was definitely weird. But hanging upside down from your ankles for five hours talking to your guards about the Manchester City vs. Manchester United mach that took place the weekend before was a damn-sight weirder than connecting an comment with a childhood memory.

“Allergies weren’t something we took seriously as kids; even now my grandmother scoffs at the thought.” Jen smiled a little. “We were all in one huge house, everyone crowded in together; a house full of women and Rob.” Jen shook her head. It was ridiculous really when you thought about it. “There were enough people to crew a ship. Two of my cousins, twins, were allergic to anything and everything to do with nature. They had to go outside though because otherwise they’d be roped into cleaning or pre-Hogwarts schoolwork. No one wanted to do that though so they went outside like the rest of us. We’d find our source of entertainment by pushing them into bushes, cutting down bee hives when they were underneath the trees and we’d even get Rob to put bugs or worms down the backs of their dresses. Then, when they broke out in rashes and whatever else happened to them, my mother would coat them in something that looked like Christmas candle wax. We’d be by the windows, watching as she tried to pour the stuff over them while they tried to make a run for their bedrooms.”

Jen made a face of disgust and laughed a little. They were cruel, her especially, but it was fun for them at the time. Just to see the girls try and wiggle out of Charlotte’s grasp was amusing. She looked out of the window and watched the oblivious Muggles walk down the street, each wearing a look of determination on their face. Jen looked away again and watched as Jess produced a rose from under the table and poke it into her side of the mass of plastic plants. She smiled in delight and breathed in the scent wafting from the flower. “Most definitely better than plastic,” She agreed. “With all the Muggle technology though, you would have thought they could have come up with something so simple as giving fake flowers the scents of their real life counter parts. It’s a shame.” Jen said thoughtfully as she turned the rose, watching the colours blur with fascination.

((Once again, sorry for the wait, admin issues ))

Jess grinned as he watched Jen's face, while he told the story, clearly trying to envision what he was saying.

He listened to her first line and chuckled, true, people these days were alot... a LOT softer than they used to be, but often that was just how they'd been raised, parents coddled too much, in his opinion. Hearing what she said next he let out a laugh. "So a house full of girls," he said, hopeing she'd pick up on what he was hinting at.

Listening to the rest of her story, laughing at the end as he pictured an old lady chasing screaming children with candles and matches.

He shrugged and once again procured something from udner the table, he must've been carrying around a shop with him, but this time it was a bottle of perfume. "I don't think technological advance coems into it," he said, closing his hand and opening it to reveal a pound. "But the price," he said, closing his hand again and this time keeping it closed.

"Muggles worry themselves too much on such things," he said shaking his head sadly, "they're the same as us, but different in so many ways," he said, entering a dangerous field of conversation with the present company he held. "I mean, i've never been particularly wealthy, but i've always lived life to it's fullest. I think most muggles, and some wizards, worry too much about the future, so much so, that they forget to live in the present. Quite disappointing really," he said shrugging and looking up to see a waiter holding out a pair of menus.

Smiling and nodding to the man he took both and passed one to Jen. "It's quite handy, living in the present, you eat better," he said, laughing as he flicked through the pages

It was amazing. So many people lived in London it was unreal. Jenifer desperately wanted to know if a street was ever completely empty. She doubted it incredibly highly. Some of the back alleys were but then a taxi would come hurtling down the road. You could see how dense the population was just by looking out of the window of the restaurant. That was worrying really. You could be eaten alive in the capital if you weren’t careful. That was probably why Jen preferred little towns or villages where everyone was in everyone else’s business. Of course she hated that bit – who didn’t? But the relaxing atmosphere was excellent. In London everyone was wealthy and highly strung. The idiots were spending four pound on milkshakes from markets so clearly they had more money than they knew what to do with. Jen would have been a liar if she claimed that that didn’t bother her.

Jess was probably trying his hand at being a magician. Well, that would be what the Muggles were seeing. Jen watched nonetheless. She always liked wandless magic. Although she could do it herself she’d never made it into an art, more of a daily thing all in all; something to try and pull off when someone took your wand. “They’re minds are always focused on money...” She said with a shrug. “It’s probably why potential muggers get disorientated when you throw money at them. They hardly expect you to give it up.” She smirked and continued to spin the rose around. “It’s probably why they hold those game shows... It’s all very odd.”

“Something else is always better.” Jen said, echoing words she’d heard before but couldn’t quite place where she’d heard them. “That’s why humans are always looking to the future, because they want something more. They assume that something is going to arrive and offer itself to them. They don’t think for a moment that they have to go out and get it. That’s just human nature I suppose, inherent laziness. It’s not a crime to dream though.” Jen shrugged and stopped twirling the rose. The whole mood was turning very sombre.

With a small smile, Jen took her menu from Jess and opened it up. “You also generally remember to eat if you stay in the present.” She commented, setting the menu down on the table. Her hand returned to the rose and she began to spin it between her thumb and forefinger once more as she read the menu and what the restaurant had on offer. The first thing she wanted was a glass of wine then she didn’t really care but they did have a few decent pasta dishes.

Jess shrugged and flipped through another page. "They're not the only ones guilty, you know," he said with a chuckle, laughing in agreeance to what she said. "They most certainly do," he said, looking up from his menu. "It's all so good," he muttered, more to himself than anyone

"I'm a bit of a food person, i must admit," he told Jenifer with a grin, "i like me food, most all types, though i must admit i'm a supporter of good hearty meals over some of finer, smaller ones," he told her, thinking about some of the disappointing meals he'd had.

"I remember once," he said, launching into another story, "i went to restaurant, and ordered the Roast Chicken and shrimp," he told her. "I'd not eaten all day, preparing myself for this meal, i'd rather been looking forward to it, in all honesty, probably a touch to much. Anyway, after twenty-five minutes of waiting i was sure that this was going to be a whopper of a meal, and soon the party's food arrived, and finally out came mine. This one strip of grilled chicken on a bed of Mashed Potato, and three shrimp on the side, all coated in a, and i must admit, it was brilliant, light sauce." He said, realising he may be boring her. "Anyway, the look on my face apparently said it all, i was so disapointed, that from that moment on i vowed i'd always order what i'd like, no matter how informal it was. I just like my food too much," he told her with a chuckle, before turning to the waiter.

"And on that note, I think i'll have the lasagne," he told the waiter with a smile, "and a whiskey on the rocks, be generous, he said with a wink. "And for you?" he asked, turning once more back to Jen