Like flying through custard [Agatha]

It had drizzled throughout the match, and the rain had been falling in heavy sheets for the last quarter of an hour. Which wouldn't have bothered Hunter much, given that he'd quietly cast a charm to repel the water and carried on watching the match but, oh, what a dull game! It wasn't so much that both teams were minor league rather than capable of playing for the likes of Puddlemere United (who Hunter still thought resembled drunk goblins on broomsticks, recent accomplishments notwithstanding) but that their enthusiasm seemed to have been dampened by the weather. Really he'd seen impromptu matched between second year students that were more exciting than this! And what made it worse was that he had to write about it for the Bognor Banshee, a newspaper that had a monthly print run of precisely three hundred and sixty seven.

They're paying you for this he reminded himself, as a sullen-looking girl in her late teens caught the snitch with all the flair of someone wearing a brown sack to a debutante ball and the crowd (comprising about fifty people, mostly over the age of 100) clapped politely. Normally he would stick around and interview a couple of bystanders, get some thoughts on the match or even talk to the players; especially the lesser-known teams loved to see their names in print. Today he got the feeling that even an exploding dragon right next to them wouldn't excite these players.

So not more than a couple of minutes after the match ended, Hunter quietly disapparated back to London. He had a few scribbled notes around which he would base his report, now all he needed as a place to write. Hunter preferred cafes or bars; he found the hustle and bustle less distracting than silence ever was. Or a restaurant, he thought, as the delicious smell of freshly-cooked pizza wafted across the path. Gino's. He hadn't ever been in before, but Hunter wasn't deterred. He was wearing his second-best jeans, which were black and almost resembled smart trousers, and a jacket which he'd zipped up over his Appleby Arrows t-shirt. Not that he ever felt concerned about walking into somewhere he might be looked down upon. So he went in, was shown to a table tucked away in a corner (just right for writing a match report, he thought happily) and picked up the menu. It wasn't until a voice asked what he'd like to drink that he looked up and did a double take.

"Don't I know you..?"   

Agatha Henderson dried her hands on her apron as she watched the back of her good friend - her best friend, if she was being honest - walked away with a Gino's bag in his hand, a smile on her face. She'd made Bugsy pizza this time (if it could even really be counted as her making it - after all, she'd only put the order in), a Meat Lovers Supreme type that wasn't meant to have pineapples on it, but did anyways. Instead of being on the pizza that Bugsy held in his hand, the little triangular pieces of fruit sat on the counter in the kitchen behind her, having been placed there after she painstakingly peeled them off. Hadn't Giacomo learned by now, that Bugsy didn't like pineapples?

After her older friend was out of sight, the waitress finally stepped back into the hot kitchen, her hands slipping into the pockets of the apron that sat on her hips. Her break was now officially over, and although she didn't want to, Agatha had to go back to serving rude old men who just didn't understand that pizza wasn't considered a pasta, and no, noodles couldn't go on the pizza with the rest of the stupid pasta toppings. She didn't understand where old people got it from, that they could put anything they want on a pizza. Sometimes, people were just so daft.

The twenty year old kicked her shoes together as she stopped at the waitress station in the back, stuffing her pockets with extra napkins and straws before she'd started walking out to the front of the restaurant. Agatha planted a smile on her face as she weaved her way through the tables, keeping a chipper face on as she greeted customers, occasionally stopping to ask if tables that looked done had needed their check. For some reason (not that Aggie was complaining), everyone had just wanted to sit down and have a chat. Less people who wanted to get up and leave meant less tables for Aggie and the rest of the waitresses and busboys to clean and set up in the moment.

After taking a quick peak at the table set up in the front of the restaurant, Agatha made her way to an unclaimed table in the corner of the room, sitting only one single person. Pulling her notepad out of her apron, the blonde approached the man sitting by himself, struggling to get the pen out of her pocket without spilling any straws (now she was quite regretting stuffing the straws in just any random pocket). "Hi, welcome to Gino's!" She greeted the man, continuing to try her best not to get any straws on the ground. "Can I get you something to drink?" She'd asked, before giving the man's head (he really wasn't paying attention to her, but that was alright) a polite smile.

Oh, stupid straws, Aggie thought, as one of them fell to the floor, bouncing a few times before it settled against one of her feet. After bending down to pick it up, Agatha stopped, her eyes settling on the man in front of her while his question processed in her head. Did she know him? He was quite familiar, if she was being honest. "Uhm... maybe? I'm Agatha... Henderson? I was a Hufflepuff at Hogwarts..." She told him, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

Agatha...yeah, he definitely remembered her! A few years below him, but with an older brother? Yeah, that would explain why he remembered her. One of the few things Hunter had wished was different about his life was his lack of siblings. Having a brother or sister while he'd been growing up would have made things...well, even more fun than they had been! Technically he had sisters, or half sisters at least, according to his mother, but old women he'd never even met didn't exactly count.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you" he said with a grin "I just...well, you don't expect to see an old schoolmate unexpectedly like this, you know what I mean?" he said, just in case anyone was listening. He knew she would understand, even if they had barely spoken whilst at Hogwarts. Hunter's friends had commented in the past how strange it always felt on the rare occasions one bumped into a fellow wizard in a muggle environment. "So you work here...I mean, how long have you worked here?" he amended, knowing the first question ranked alongside such stupid comments as Isn't it wet today? whilst sheltering from a monsoon. "And I'll have a pumpk...uh, I mean, an orange juice, please. With a straw," he added with a wink, teasing in a good-natured way to cover his near-mistake.

That was the other difficulty with meeting someone in muggle surroundings. It was like talking in code. Hunter had never struggled when he was growing up around muggles, but then, he'd never tried to bring a friend home, either. "it's nice here" he added, just before she had to go and fetch his drink "Just the place to write my... match report."

[OOC: Sooo short! I'll do better next time, I promise!]