Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop

[Tallia Gauthier]

Tallia smirked to herself, rolling her eyes. "Leave dear old Barnabus to me," she said, a wicked glint in her eyes. She was a big fan of the bad boys, but not the pompous, full of their own importance boys. She would love to take her rival down a few pegs on the ego ladder.

Tallia considered what Rita said for a moment before leaning forwards slightly. "Five thousand, your own desk and one year's contract. You can employ an assistant out of your salary." She smiled, raising one eyebrow. "What do you say?"

[Rita Skeeter]

*Raises an eyebrow, and regards Tallia closely*

He won't be happy if I leave the Prophet. I keep all the idiot interns away from him. I hope you've got something good up your sleeve ... *adds quickly, in a low tone* or at least down your top ... *forces a smile* to keep him from losing the plot.

*Thinks about it carefully, tapping her (enormous) chin*

Throw in one of those fancy dragon-skin chairs and a mimbletonia on my desk, and an expense account, and you've got a deal.

[Tallia Gauthier]

Tallia licked her lips. "I know how to handle men like Cuffe," she said, lifting one hand to run through her hair. She had so enjoyed winding him up the other day, and if she could do it some more, knowing she'd stolen away one of his journalists, it would be pure comedy gold. Although, it might be hard not to laugh...

Tallia paused for a moment, thinking, before she held out her hand across the table to Rita. "Then I believe we have a deal, Ms Skeeter." She gave the other woman a winning smile. She did enjoy getting what she wanted.

[Rita Skeeter]

*Raises her eyebrows, admiring Tallia's guts in messing with the editor of the Daily Prophet, a man known to ruin careers with one headline*

Indeed! I tend to just threaten to tell him all about my day, and he shuts up.

*Smirks, and takes Tallia's hand, shaking it firmly*

Oh yes, we have a deal. And I'm finally free of Barnabus!

*Grins a nasty grin, imagining Cuffe's reaction to her resignation*

And I shall have such fun handing in my notice ...

[Tallia Gauthier]

Tallia shook Rita's hand before letting go to lift her tea cup and take a sip. She could think of a few things she could do to deal with Cuffe, all of which promised to be very amusing. Tallia returned Rita's smile as she put her tea down, barely touched.

"Well, I'm a very busy woman. I must get going." She picked up her bag and tucked it under her arm. "I'll have a contract drawn up for you. Be in my office to sign at nine o clock next Monday morning." Tallia smiled charmingly. "Then I'll get someone to show you to your new desk." She gave Rita a little wave before turning and walking out, not wanting to stay any longer than she had to. Once she was out in the street, she disapparated.

[Isabella Donae]

Hard work paid off. Isabella had been a witness to this on more than one occasion. Certainly you couldn't get the things you desired in life unless you went beyond what was required. She knew this. Yet it was days like these, the kind that seemed unending where she had to constantly remind herself of this fact, just to get by. The young witch was always an hour early to work, and one of the last to leave. This day was no different, and now that dusk had fallen, she was quite content to sit alone in the quiet teashop; watching as steam rose daintily from the cup, pretending the steam was all her troubles of the day. Drifting away into nothing.

Isabella has spent her morning, working well through her lunch, going over the requirements of cauldron thickness. Some insisted thinner, smaller cauldrons, and some the opposite. Isabella had offered her opinion, which lay somewhere in the middle. Smaller cauldrons, with equal thickness. It seemed common sense, I mean you didn't want potions seeping through the metal and injuring anyone. Yet she found common sense, wasn't all that common. Her ears still rang with the thick French accent, of the headmistress at Beauxbatons; Shrill with indignation, as her boss's temper flared and he called her daft. It wasn't professional. And of course being a woman, Isabella had known where that would lead right away.

She had intervened, requesting he take a bit of a breather, whilst she calmed the irate woman. Isabella saves the day once again, at her own expense. By the time Isabella had ended the floo call, her lunch was over. She spent the rest of her day ignoring the pains of hunger, until finally dust had hit. Sweet night. Coming with the promise of food, and much needed relaxation.

Taking a bite of her pumpkin pastry, Isabella sighed as she closed her eyes briefly, and lay back against the booth. The best thing was at this time of night there wasn't anyone in the shop aside from her and the owner. Closing time was soon, but bless her heart she'd let the young witch in either way. Isabella would have to remember to tip her extra.

[Samuel Burke]

Sam wasn't happy. A raid had gone badly, resulting in him losing out on a body that should have been snatched by now. Leaving it any longer would render it unusable, so he was stuck in Hogsmeade, a body short, and short on temper.

He was also gasping for caffeine, something he couldn't last long without, and he knew the local pubs wouldn't know good java if it jumped out of the cup and slapped them. So, he made his way to the teashop, hoping to Merlin they'd know how to brew a decent cup of coffee for his sake.

Taking one look at the décor, Sam wanted to turn around and run out the door. It relied heavily on frills and pink, and Sam rather felt that if he spent too long in here he'd have to chop down a tree just to feel manly again.

He approached the counter and gave the shop assistant a slightly desperate smile. "Please tell me your coffee makes up for your interior design?" he asked. He was relieved to hear the plump witch say (rather scathingly, in his opinion) that they did offer coffe. "Excellent! Start me off with a double espresso, then make me a latte with a double shot. No sugar, ta very much."

Without much more of a wait, Sam had a dinky cup of espresso and a taller mug of steaming hot latte. He sat down at a table, feeling rather irked that he couldn't get his drinks to take away, and tried to focus on the people rather than the hideous mounds of frills and lace.

[Isabella Donae]

The light sound of the bell, signaling someone else had entered the shop, caused Isabella to open her eyes and glance about. A man, in stark contrast with the feminine decorations of the shop strode in. Looking quite peeved, and as if he'd rather be anywhere else. Isabella thought perhaps he'd only been driven here out of desperation for a hot beverage against the cold. He certainly didn't seem the sort to hang around the shop for fun; Though of course she didn't know the man. For all she knew perhaps he simply loved tea. Isabella wasn't concerned with his affairs, either way.

She wasn't exactly cool, but typically the witch was usually buried in work even outside her work hours; Thank goodness for stain removing spells, for all the time she'd spilt her drink or smudged food on her papers. Isabella wasn't a social butterfly, because she simply never had the time. There seemed to always be something to do. However on this night the shop was fairly empty. She was free from work- physically at least. Her mind tended to always wander towards what was needed to be done. Trying to make full use of her downtime, Isabella sat up to peak around her booth, towards the man sitting in the back.

"Rather chilly out tonight, isn't it?" The weather seemed something everyone could at least comment on, the main thing Isabella could think to break the ice of meeting new people. She hoped she wasn't disturbing the man in case he wanted to be left alone, trying for a polite smile.

[Samuel Burke]

"Oh, I know! Is baltic out tonight," Sam remarked. The snow was starting to fall softly outside, and he mentally cursed it. Snow meant more work, frozen ground and treacherous conditions ... but it also meant that decomp would be slowed. Every cloud had a silver lining, after all.

He turned to look at the young woman and had to appreciate just how attractive she was. He gave her a broad grin, and downed his espresso in one gulp, shuddering slightly from the bitter taste.

"Is why I came in here for a bevvy afore going back out in that," he explained, gesturing to his two cups of coffee. "If ye ask me, this place could do with a wee bit of improving. Preferably with fire. They're selling drinkies, not romance novels! What's with all the lace and frills and all that?"

[Isabella Donae]

"I'd imagine it's to appeal to couples. And the fact that this shop is owned by a woman," Isabelle reasoned, her tone quiet as they were only right across from each other. She could remember vividly childhood memories of couples filling the shop. She had always traveled alone, and was quite content that way if she did say so herself. The perks of being alone allowed her to focus mainly on work. And Isabella Donae would never be content sitting around. She desired success above all. There just wasn't any need for romance in her life.

Turning to gaze out the window, a smile still pulled at the young womans lips. "I don't mind snow. Makes being inside with a warm beverage very cozy, yes? Though I do favor warmer seasons. Theres nothing quite like the sun kissing your skin, as you race through the air."

Turning back to look at the man, Isabella allowed a soft laugh to escape. "My apologies. I'm rather fond of Quidditch. It's more like a hobby. Could never imagine playing professionally, would take all the fun out."

[Samuel Burke]

Sam wrinkled his nose, looking around at the décor, and decided that any couple who found those sort of surroundings appealing were most likely of the sickeningly lovey dovey sort that made him wish he could vomit on cue.

"Aye, may be run by a woman, but I always thought women had more taste than this," Sam grumbled, and took a large sip of his latte. "At least they've good coffee," he conceded.

He grinned crookedly, his smile rising ever so slightly more on one side than the other. "Ah, the snow is not without its charms. If ye've a mind for it, ye can find beauty in all sorts of weather."

He raised his eyebrows at her next remark. "Oh, Quidditch? Never was much good at that meself. I was the sort you'd find under the Quidditch stands snogging when I was at school." He laughed at the memory, blushing ever so slightly. "Maybe I should shave! The lasses are more fond of a smooth chin than the chops. What do you think? You're a lass!"

[Isabella Donae]

"To each his own, I suppose." Isabella was amused at the man's somewhat grumpy persona. She would bet he wasn't quite as rugged as he appeared. A genuine fellow at best, warm to those who knew him well. That's how her grandfather was. Quick to tell anyone what was on his mind, yet charming as ever when he desired to be. "If you're one for tea, they do quite a job at that as well. You should give it a try," In response to him complimenting the coffee, Isabella nodded. At this point only making small talk.

"Yes, I've found beauty hidden in most things. One only has to stand still a moment, and look a bit closer. Look at the two of us, as an example. I would bet you didn't know you'd come here and find much conversation?" Grinning a bit, Isabella hoped it would bring cheer to the man. She wasn't tooting her own horn or anything. But she herself was very lifted by the small conversation carried between the two. It was a breath of fresh air.

Another bubble of laughter escaped, at the blush on the man's face. A lovely compliment to the pale skin, in her opinion. "Well I think you should keep your beard, if it makes you happy. It's the personality that shines, and makes us who we are. Not our outward appearances. What a tragedy it would be to be so beautiful on the outside, yet sour as death inward." Nodding again, Isabella sipped her tea. "Oh! Forgive me for my lack of manners, my name is Isabella. You are?"

[Samuel Burke]

"Aye, horses for courses, as my mum used to say," Sam agreed. He wondered at the young woman's smile. She looked like she had just figured something out about him, and that made Sam a little on edge. Last thing he wanted was for people to be able to figure him out just by making small talk; that could lead to some serious problems down the line!

He shook his head. "Nah, tea is all well and good in a crisis, but if I need waking up, it's all about the coffee!"

He raised an eyebrow, but broke into a smile. When Sam smiled, it was like the sun coming out on an otherwise gloomy day in a graveyard. He may have looked like a grim, slightly Victorian undertaker, but he had a truly lovely smile.

"That's right enough," he conceded. "I just came in here for coffee. Didn't expect to find decent conversation in a place that looks like my great Aunt Bertha's bedroom!"

He raised his latte in a sort of salute to the young woman. "Nice to meet you, Isabella. I'm Samuel, but everyone calls me Sam. I should be apologising for my lack of manners, too! I'm not usually this grouchy. Sorry about that! Just a bitter cold night, and nothing's gone quite to plan for me today."

[Isabella Donae]

Isabella shook her head. "You haven't offended me. I know all too well how fussy life can get. One moment you're winning. Feeling like you're on top of the world, some days you feel like you're carrying the world. And the rest.. well the rest is just managing to keep your head above water." Nodding, Isabella shrugged slightly. "From my perspective at least," She didn't want to come off as assuming. "However it all falls to two options. Keep swimming, or sink."

Falling silent for a moment, Isabella's eyes brightened as she took a second look at the man. "Samuel, you say? Why is it you seem a bit familiar? Do you work at the ministry?"

[Samuel Burke]

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Aye, you've hit the nail on the head there. Life's got a funny way of sneaking up on us sometimes. But I always like to keep a trick up my sleeve to help me in times like these."

He neglected to mention that the trick up his sleeve was usually something dangerous, illegal, dark, or a combination of all three.

He grinned then, and sipped his coffee once more before setting the cup down.

"Yeah, I'm an Obliviator. What department are you in?" he asked.