The wooded chair scrapped the floor as the lone young tousled haired blonde in an
oversized tweed and leather jacket and black ripped jeans flopped herself down, claiming the last empty table within the Boulangerie des Plaisirs. The Café’s few outdoor seats remained unclaimed except for a two lone retired wizard taking long drafts on their cigarettes while the other animatedly discussion of the Ministry protests and Comité de Vigilance over empty plate while most other villages and tourists retreated to warm and cozy bakery to avoid chill of the edge of the spring rainstorm.
The darkening clouds that hung over the sky was not off-putting to this Londoner, who was ready to march through the retail district of Chatoeil to find out if the Village held any key to her career. Unfortunately, she had risen late and missed the free breakfast at the Flower Inn and her stomach gurgled most aggressively in reaction to the delicious smell of baking bread which drifting through the streets in spite the chilled breeze. She had finally caved when she saw the sandwich board announcing the cheaply priced soup and a baguette lunch special.
She was down to her last few galleons, so the cheap prices made sense. She hoped that the soup was a substantial size and it could keep her full for the rest of the day. She had to be tight on her money or she would have to go home sooner then she wanted. Even if she broke down and sent an owl to her parents they likely would not have anything sent to her until tomorrow night. They will not be happy that Les had already spent the majority of her travel funds in Paris on clothes for a potential dream job, which all turned out to be a total disaster.
Lesleigh crossed her arms and leaned on the rickety table, lowering her head until her forehead hit it with a light thud. Although her trucks were now stuffed to the brim with fabulous outfits and accessories, she should not escape the feeling of failure. She started this trip to France with such high hopes of building a career as worldwide known fashionista, bridging the gap between the Wizard and Muggle world through fashion, yet nothing has yet become of her efforts. Even her attempt at a Muggle retail job had become a total, although shortly lived disaster. Les bit her lip to not let out a frustrated sob.
“Bonjour, mademoiselle. Que puis-je vous servir? Mademoiselle?”
Realizing she was being addressed Lesleigh jerked her head up to find a tall dark-haired witch, whose age and perfect looks could lend her to be a model, well if she took off that apron and washed off bit of flour on her face. Les would kill to have her height.
“What? Oh, um…” Les took a second to gather what few words in French she knows before ordering a soup special and a latte. Although Les did not understand all of the response the waitress gave, she still surmised they do not serve lattes and offered instead an espresso. Her lower lip stuck out in a pout of frustration, she was denied her favorite drink. She had to remind her self that the French don’t typically drink milk passed noon. She finally agreed to the expresso, seeing that the waitress not going to ‘work some magic behind the counter,’ like most of the shop owners of Diagon Alley do for her.
Sighing, Les turned to the faint drumming pattern of the street, and watched the ran hit the cobble stone street with just a bit of a view of the grey Mediterranean beyond. As the rain hit the stone, the color turned from pale cream to a vivid rich reddish-orange, which contrasting the blue doors and shutters on the building. Everything was richer compared to they soot grey of Diagon Aleey
No, it was not Diagon Alley. Although a little quaint and possibly more stuffy, yet this place is quite beautiful. Although she preferred the liveliness of London and Paris more, she will not pass up the opportunities (what most claim to be) the wizard art and culture capital of the world had to offer.
Her rallied spirits were suddenly sidetracked a sudden urge bought on by the rain and hastened to made a trip to the bathroom. There she checked her makeup and flattened her hair with her wand and proclaimed herself ready to make a great first impression. Walking back to her table Les jaw fell open when she saw a thin dark headed man sitting her table.
“Excuse me.” Les said as she walked around to face the high cheekbones raven haired boy wizard with her hands on her thin hips. His grey eyes slid from the street to meet her’s. If the wizard was of age, he had yet to fill out his frame and so she would guess he could not be much older than her.
“I think there must be a mistake. You can’t sit here.” She waited for a response, but there was not comprehension in the boys eyes. “You see, I already ordered and I left…” She pointed to the chair,.. which sat naked and ajar. Les then realized she forget to leave her coat. “and.. and I was sitting there.” Les finished meekly.
Suddenly recalling that she was speaking English, and the young wizard would not likely speak, the blonde attempted repeat the statement and only manage a few short words in French before giving up. Glancing around for the tall waitress, Lesliegh notice the place was even more busy, but found her waiting on the retired men in front and to engaged to see and her frantic waves.
Her actions began to attract the attention of other patrons. She knew she was making a fool of herself, she he did not care. If she was only going to afford one nice meal today, she was going to be comfortable and enjoy eating it! Without another table available to send him too or retreat to herself, Les decided to just plopped down at her old chair. “Well, I hope you don’t mind company. My name is Les... Lesliegh Ollivander.” Managing the introduction in French, she said her last name just a tab bit slowly, knowing half of people in France would recognize it. “and who might I have the pleasures of meeting and eating with today?” She twisted the French words that her mother had her mesmerize to show respect and hoped it showed just a bit of dominance instead.
If I did not like him, I’ll make the waitress make him leave. She thought to herself and gave a little smirk.
