on my feet, chuckie ts, on my sleeve, corazón | fflur

Clementine’s feet hit the ground with a thud as she jumped off the awning. No use walking all the way back across the roof to climb down the ladder again. She’d tried to make Jess apparate her here on time to meet Fflur, but she was a working woman now and she had an event later this evening. They’d shown up early, Clem had gone up to the roof of a business that was very clearly closed (inappropriately using the ladder only for staff at the back) to have a smoke, a little drink out of her flask, watch the sunset. All was right in the world.

Except, sort of, that Lionel was still with his girlfriend, as far as she knew. She’d seen them together outside a lot toward the end of term, and of course they hadn’t been in very heavy contact--every once in awhile, but not like before. Clementine didn’t know why, but she felt like if she spoke to him, even when Blythe wasn’t around, she’d be intruding. On something. He was a person, anyway, and his girlfriend didn’t own him, but what would she even say?

Daylight was fading fast, but it was still warm around her in Hogsmeade as she tugged her denim jacket closer. Clem wasn’t sure her professor knew about her still drinking, but she’d brought a flask with her in case the waitstaff didn’t seem cool and was just praying she didn’t comment on it if she hadn’t been aware already. She would understand, right?

Or she could pull the whole borefest of “do as I say, not as I do.” There was no telling where her mentor might fall on the scale of coolness on any given day.

The bell to the pub tinkled as Clementine opened the door, and she squinted in the much lower lighting to locate Fflur’s blonde head before meandering that direction to sit across from her. “Hey, you’re here already? No big plans?” The wooden chair made a horrible screeching noise on the unfinished floor as Clem pulled it out, and she pulled a face. “Yeesh.”

@Fflur Blevins

“I live here.” Fflur looked up from her book -- Miss Marple this time -- correctly assuming that the question was aimed at her. “I’m about as busy as I ever am.” Class included, she mused. She set the book aside and raised both eyebrows, not loving the sound that Clementine had somehow managed to make, but she managed half a smile as she sat down.

“Summer alright?” She pulled her tea closer and held onto it with both hands. She was still on the fence about all of this -- meeting with a student outside of class -- but had figured ‘what’s the harm in it’ after she’d seen no less than three students (who she liked far less) in London.

They were here to talk quidditch. Clem had owled her and it made sense; flying professor, quidditch captain. Did she hope she started working out plays and strategies over break and shirk any other summer assignments to see her team do better? Sure. Was Fflur going to suggest it? Absolutely.

She looked sideways to flag someone over, wanting some more tea and-- whatever Clementine wanted to order.

“You live here. Right.” Clem replied curtly and nodded once. Of course she lived here; it made plenty of sense for her to when she worked at Hogwarts. She wondered if this was where a whole bunch of professors lived, and if they didn’t, where they fit their families. Did any professors even have families?

They were all such a cavalcade of freaks, it was difficult for the Gryffindor to imagine, even after six years, that there was any normalcy in their lives. Half-giants, goblins, people with two faces, werewolves, and whatever else worked on Hogwarts staff--or had, at one point in time. Perhaps anything close to “normal” was too much to expect.

Clem folded her hands on the table in front of her and picked at her fingernails, recently varnished black (though it never lasted more than a few days) for something to do. It probably wasn’t advisable to smoke in here, and she was pretty sure that any fixation she had would have to wait until drinks or food got here anyway.

“Um, yeah. Just. Working at the shop with my parents. Playing with puppies and other… magical oddities that we get in there all day.” She shrugged. “I’ve been in London quite a bit with Jess, actually, while she’s been working. Checking it all out there.”

That was true, all of it, but none of it was why they’d come here. Quidditch was Fflur’s subject to teach, and it was Clementine’s favorite subject--even though technically, Flying was the subject and Quidditch was only a sport. An extracurricular that, despite it not having any effect on her exam scores, was far more important to her (and her career) than any class.

Clementine waited for Fflur to order and then went ahead, her volume upticking and sounding slightly anxious in contrast with her tone from just a moment prior. “Errrrrm, yeah. I’ll have a…. Tea. As well.” Behooved her to say it. “And just, like… a burger? With some chips? Have you got that? Thanks very much.”