The Three Broomsticks[1]$2$

[Lorcan d'Eath]

*Smiles charmingly, before knocking back the rest of his vodka*

Muggle London. I have a house in Kensington.

*Places his glass back on the bar*

Shall we leave, or did you want to stay longer?

[Anna Bellacoure]

Oh no, let's go on and go, if you'd like. No use hanging around here and getting drunk like a lunatic.

*stands up and puts her cloak on, feeling rather excited to be going out and about with someone new for once*

Kensington it is then.

[Lorcan d'Eath]

*Smirks slightly, trying to hide the fact that his mouth was watering ever so slightly. So hungry...*

*Holds out his hand to her*

Apparition is the fastest way.

[Anna Bellacoure]

*takes his hand*

Of course.

*isn't much for apparation because she was never too bright during school, but decides to just go with it*

Let's.

*apparates with Lorcan*

[Lorcan d'Eath]

*Takes her hand and apparates them to outside his home in Kensington*

Continued here

[Christian Hennessy]

*On his own personal reconnaissance mission, Christian walked up to the Three Broomsticks and he wandered in, acting as if his only business was to quench his thirst. The moment he stepped inside and the door shut behind him, the cosy warmth enveloped the wizard properly, and he was immediately made to feel comfortable. He scowled to himself, glancing to and fro as he soaked in the atmosphere.

Blasted place is welcoming, comfortable... Codswallop!, he bristled to himself, looking for a decent place to park his bum, and opting for a free stool up at the bar itself.

S'alright...proper spot... Seat's sturdy..., the laundry list of things-alright-with-this-pub began unwinding in his thoughts as he continued to scan the pub, taking in everything he saw for possible future use at the Haunt and Goblin. Some of the best ideas came from others.

All in all, Christian found the Broomsticks rather nice, a place he, himself would frequent, and that was terribly annoying. His order to the barkeep came out in a grumble, yet he couldn't stop enjoying his surroundings. Of course he still preferred his own pub in Knockturn Alley over this, but here would do in a pinch.*

[Tallia Gauthier]

Tallia walked in, her curly hair tangled from the wind, only held in its style by the fluffy beige ear muffs she had on. It was bitterly cold outside, and Tallia wouldn't be surprised if they had snow soon, up here, at least. London was a little warmer, although more prone to rain which messed no end with Tallia's wardrobe and hairstyles.

Lifting a hand to straighten her hair out, she walked across to the bar, her large paisley bag over her shoulder. She'd been in Hogsmeade sorting out a new advertiser for the magazine, and although she'd been planning on heading straight home, the Three Broomsticks had proved too tempting to turn down.

"A Hot Toddy with firewhiskey," she instructed the barmaid as she slid onto one of the bar stools, putting her bag down by her feet, clad in black high heels against which her trousers nestled. Usually she was a robes kind of witch, but the cold turn in the weather called for something warmer, and the trousers and floaty black top did the job well.

Tallia reached up and unfastened her waist length black cloak as the barmaid placed her drink on the bar, still letting off a small amount of red steam; perfect. Tallia reached into her bag and pulled out the right change, passing it to the woman before picking up her drink and taking a sip. It was hot, hot enough that she hissed a little at the pain, but it tasted marvelous; exactly what she needed after being out in the cold.

[Christian Hennessy]

Christian watched as a set of grimy fingers settled a snifter of cognac directly in front of him upon the smooth, worn bar-top before he fished out his coin purse to pay for his drink. As he sifted through the variety of gold, silver, and bronze currency, a flickering shadow drifted into his peripheral vision, causing him to lift his head a bit.

"Eventide.", he offered politely to the shadow that he came to realise was a witch, and he dropped a few sickles on the counter next to the awaiting barkeep's hand, paying the man so he would go about his pub-ly duties. "Pleasantly chilly enough tonight?", he asked the newcomer, eyes flickering over her choice of dress.

It most certainly was chilly here in Hogsmeade, but thankfully not as rainy as it normally was in London. "Thank Merlin for the merciful Fates that keep the blasted rain away 'round here, eh." Christian continued on talking to the witch as if she was an old friend he had been expecting. This somewhat friendly nature of Christian's came easily after many years of experience serving the public's thirst.

Turning himself about on his stool toward the witch, one of Christian's hands shot out toward his snifter of cognac and his fingers wrapped around the cool glass tightly. He had yet to taste the spirits The Broomsticks opted to stock and serve. With a critical eye, he lifted the glass up a bit into the light, regarding the amber liquid within before bringing the glass to his nose for a deep sniff. Each and every time he was served an unfamiliar spirit, Christian went through this routine. He was a stickler for eye pleasing, palate teasing beverages, something very important to him as he was a pub owner himself.

Without wasting another moment, he brought the glass to his lips and carefully took in a taste, quickly swishing it over his tongue to the back of his throat as he surveyed the alcohol. His eyes narrowed in concentration, and for a moment he had forgotten the witch he greeted upon her entrance while he swallowed his sip, noticing the pleasing warmth as it flowed down into his stomach.

[Tallia Gauthier]

Tallia smiled at the man to her side as he greeted her. Whether or not Tallia was in the mood talked to people in pubs had a lot to do with what sort of day she'd had, and thankfully, today she was in rather good spirits. "Pleasantly chilly is one way to describe it," Tallia replied with a light, slivery laugh. Tallia wasn't exactly fond of the cold weather, but she prefered being able to wrap up to keep warm rather than being too hot to function properly.

Tallia watched interestedly as the man seemed to examine his drink. "What's that you've got?" she asked curiously. She was the sort of girl who enjoyed hard liquor, and although firewhiskey was by far her favourite beverage, she was always keen to try new things, in all aspects of her life.

She felt sure she recognised him, but couldn't quite place the face. "You don't live in London?" she asked after a moment, wondering if she'd seen in around Diagon Alley. She knew most of the regular faces in London by now, but there were always so many people coming and going, it was hard to be sure. Especially considering the number of people she encountered on a day to day basis in her capacity as reporter.

[Daisy Ollivander]

Daisy sighed as she headed into the Three Broomsticks. A quick glance around told her there was no one she knew in the pub. Oh this was a relief to her... She sighed lightly and moved to the bar taking a seat on one of the barstools. She sighed and lay her head against her hands, elbows resting on the bartop. It had been quite the day... She had been given hope and then had it dashed all to pieces all in one afternoon. It messed with the girl considerably.

A caring barkeep came up and asked her what she was having. She glanced up and gave a warm smile. "Just a Butterbeer if you please..." She smiled as the drink was produced, and she took a drink of it, smiling with satisfaction. "Thank you." She would lay a few coins on the bartop to pay for the drink. She sighed a little as the barkeep headed off and she lay her forehead against her hands again.

The bar was nowhere near quiet, buzzing with many conversations, but none of which did Daisy really care about at the moment. No attention was on her, and this suited her for now... She wanted to think anyway, but how much thinking could she do here? Maybe she should get something stronger to drink... But another sip of her butterbeer banished that thought for the time being. She sighed again and gave another glance around before returing forhead to those upturned hands, feeling a bit of a headache coming on.

[Theodore Nott]

Theodore gave the door a violent tug, the wind outside trying it's hardest to keep it closed, and stepped in quickly out of the blustery day, forcing the door shut behind him before it was caught up by a nasty gust to only be taken off at the hinges. He brushed his tousled hair out of his dark eyes as he surveyed the scene before him, then moved quickly toward an a few open spots at the bar.

Opting for the stool nearest the witch, rather than the one nearest the two chaps on the otherside, Theodore placed his order with the barkeep. Of course he treated the man as he would any other servant and came off as quite cold, but his Firewhisky was served in a timely fashion, so he didn't fuss over leaving a little something for a tip behind. A Knut would do nicely...

Before taking a drink, he gave the area around him a quick once over, making certain he could drink in peace, but was quite surprised to see the witch near him looking as though she had just lived the worst day ever. Theo smirked into his glass and took a sip, then leant his tall frame her way. "It's more effective to drink the Butterbeer, rather than cry into it."

[Daisy Ollivander]

This had been quite the day for Daisy... Quite the emotional roller coaster, leaving her near the bottom. She didn't know what to do anymore... She was rather in her own little world, not even noticing the wizard as he came over to sit near her. Why should she? People come and go at this bar all the time. Another sip of her Butterbeer was taken and she sighed gently, laying one hand on the bartop, the other hand still holding against her head.

A familiar voice brought her suddenly out of her thoughts and she turned, blinking those doe brown eyes up at the larger form of Theodore. A smile spread across her lips as those eyes calmed quickly. "Oh... Hey Theodore... Suppose it does." She glanced at the Butterbeer once again, then over at his Firewhiskey. Yup, she was debating on getting something stronger once again. But she would take another stubborn sip of her butterbeer. "Oh I'm not crying... I'm fine." She smiled at him, but it was obvious in her eyes that she was a liar. "How are you today? Fine day isn't it?"

[Theodore Nott]

Theodore blinked, rather confounded that he didn't recognise Daisy, but with her face in her hands, he really shouldn't have been expected to. He set his glass down, then turned himself to face her on his stool, as a hint of a grin ghosted at the corners of his lips. "I suppose it is, yes." , he agreed, tilting his head, when curiosity struck.

"You sure don't come off as just "fine", pet." Theo added, nodding to the way her tiny frame hung on the stool she occupied. Everything about Daisy made him think of one suffering miserably, a sight he often was quite glad to see, but this sight was sad, the usual carefree air about her had vanished and left behind a seemingly empty shell.

[Daisy Ollivander]

Daisy surveyed Theodore's face, unable to help but allow a smile drift to those lips as he looked quite surprised and confused. But recognition soon showed in his face and the smile dimmed just a little. She nodded at his words, them causing that sparkle to glitter in her eyes for a moment. "Although the saltiness of the tears gives it a bit of a unique taste, you should try it sometime." A joking light lit up those eyes a little more as she nodded to her Butterbeer. Which would be sipped again.

His words of her state of being made her eyes sadden a little. "Never you mind... It-it's nothing that won't be settled and fixed with time." She nodded firmly though she still wracked her mind for ways she could help it. She didn't want to affect Theodore's mood and thus Daisy would straighten a bit on her stool, pasting that smile into place. "Just a long day is all. How has your day been?" Daisy tried the tactic of turning the conversation away from herself once more, though it seemed a little half hearted of an attempt.

[Theodore Nott]

Theo was glad to see Daisy's smile. Yes, it may not have been the brightest, but she didn't have tears streaming down her cheeks, as he could plainly see, and that benefitted him. He didn't have to sit and listen to some witch whine and cry about something he really hasn't the patience to listen to, let alone care about. His own hint of a grin widened at the sight of the light coming to her eyes, and he chuckled softly at her comment. "I'll keep that in mind..for the next time I opt for drowning my sorrows in a mug."

Smoothly, Theo brought his drink back to his lips for another sip, watching the witch, with caution, over the rim of his glass. He wasn't entirely convinced she wouldn't suddenly burst out and start blubbering, Theo wished to keep his distance for a quick retreat if need be. In the return of the glass to the bar top, he nodded, half listening to Daisy's words, and waited for the tears he was sure were to come.

Mercifully, Daisy seemed to make an instant transformation, and relief flooded Theo's lean frame. "Not even worthy enough for comment.", he answered, basically flat out dodging her question, and once again he was sipping at his Firewhiskey.