(Untitled)

[_clearly_penny_]

After much deliberation on her part, Penelope Clearwater is in the bar.

She's seated in a booth with a good view of the door, but also as strategically close to the stairs as she can manage.

Roght now, she is ripping up a paper napkin.

She doesn't appear to notice.

Comments

[kingly_auror]

Kingsley comes through the doors, having already gotten the note she left him and checked up on her father.

Seeing her, he makes a beeline for her table.

"Your father is fine," he says, without preamble. No point in making her wait unnecessarily. "Whoever told you otherwise was either misinformed or lying."

[_clearly_penny_]

Penelope starts for Kingsley the instant she sees him, meeting him somewhere in the middle distance.

For a moment, his words barely register.

"He's ... he's all right?"

A bright, relieved smile.

"Oh, I-- I knew he would be, but of course I haven't been home-- I had to check-- thank you."

[kingly_auror]

"You are welcome."

Kingsley studies her, carefully.

"May I ask who told you he was dead?"

[_clearly_penny_]

Penelope frowns.

"Lucius Malfoy," she says quietly, keeping her tone very even.

"He was here last night."

[alec_or_alonzo]

"Penelope!" greets Phil cheerily. "How are you this evening?"

She takes stock of Penelope's napkin-destruction.

"Did that napkin do something very dreadful to you, dear? Because it looks as though your revenge has been carried out quite thoroughly at this point."

[_clearly_penny_]

"Oh! Phil ..."

Penelope sighs at the miniature wreckage.

She's feeling much better since Kingsley brought her the news, really.

"I ... I hadn't been having a very good day. It's all right now."

[alec_or_alonzo]

Phil sits herself down without an invitation. Invitations between friends are implied anyway.

"Well, I hope it wasn't too dreadful. Do tell me all about it, if it will make you feel any better, dear. I may talk an awful lot, but that doesn't mean I'm not a terrifically good listener as well."

[_clearly_penny_]

Penelope smiles faintly.

"It was pretty dreadful, I'm afraid."

She hesitates, uncertain as to how to proceed.

She doesn't mind telling people that she's a witch sometimes. But then there are days ... and there are people ... and she'd rather keep it to herself.

"I was worried about my father."