The Leaky Cauldron - Open to anyone.

[potion_failure]

Who : Romilda Vane & ???
Where : The Leaky Cauldron
When : Around 5PM
Rating : TBA
Summary : TBA

Comments

[kevin_montague]

"Why thank you kindly, little miss, for gracing a paying customer with your attention."

Kevin removed his gloves slowly, pulling each digit out of the snug, brown leather with a pinch from the opposite thumb and index finger. He had his traveling hat under his elbow, a brown trilby with a feather from a Bleu Cadet Rooster sticking out from its hatband. Looking back at his butler levitating the large trunk three feet behind him, he gave a small nod, acknowledgement which the butler returned, but with a bow, before the trunk was lowered to the floor. The man then backed away, disappearing out of the door. Kevin stroked at his gloves slowly, his eyes focusing on an invisible spot.

"I will be needing a strong drink. None of that cat urine you sell to the commoners...", he said with quite some distain in his voice. "...but a real drink. Calvados. And I want old Calvados. A year from the Cyranos family will do fine

[potion_failure]

She turned to another customer standing a little behind Malfoy and her eyes widened slightly at the sight. 'Oh, isn't he hot...' She thought to herself, but kept a straight face.

She nodded quietly at his order and reached underneath the counter, pulling out a bottle of old Calvados. She knew Tom kept it there because he preferred to drink it himself instead of serving it to customers. She poured him a glass and put it in front of him, before turning back to her dishes.

[kevin_montague]

He reached for his drink, holding the glass up against the faint light streaming in from the vaulted windows. The colour, a deep, reddish mahogany got a golden tint in the sunlight, the liquid pure and unsoiled. He smiled smugly, holding the crystal glass up against his nose, drawing in the scent of apples and dried apricots, just a hint of almond slipping quickly through his conscious, almost too quick for him to notice. But his palate favored Calvados and he caught hold of it before it disappeared.

"Good ole Tom. Won't serve anyone this unless they specifically ask for it, I wager...miserly bastard."

He took his glass to the table he'd decided on, looking down with slight aversion at his designated chair. He wrapped his dark green traveling cloak around him before sitting down, placing his hat and gloves on the table.

[potion_failure]

So he was hot, he was an insuffrable snob, too. Romilda watched him curiously from the corner of his eye, but didn't make a remark when he spoke about Tom. She picke up a dish towel and started to dry off the glasses.

[kevin_montague]

He didn't take as much time as he usually did, when savoring the french brandy. The glass was empty after a mere five minutes and he put up his hand, not waving it, just simply holding it there, while at the same time reading an article about the ongoing restorations taking place at Hogwarts, page four in the Daily Prophet. It was a decidedly dull article, not so much due to the subject but to the journalist's rather astounding incompetence to lead the reader through the text. He had long contemplated on starting a competitor for the Daily Prophet. Maybe now, with endless hours to kill inside a glass house, he could give it some serious though.

He looked around for the waitress.

"Today, if you please, Miss."

[potion_failure]

Romilda walked over to him, crossing her arms in front of his chest. "Yes? Anything else you'd like?" She forced herself to smile, but deep inside just wanted to hex the hell out of this stuck-up prat.

[kevin_montague]

"Do you serve anything edible in this establishment?" He said, his smile a mix of sugary sweetness and biting sarcasm. He did enjoy annoying the girl quite a lot.

[potion_failure]

"Everything we serve is perfectly edible." Romilda calmly said, before accio-ing one of the menu's and handing it over to him. "Knock yourself out." She turned on her heel and stalked back to the bar.