[MP] I work good, and I work fine, but first take care of head [Deirdre]

While Ezra’s slightly more seasoned coworker got to go to Madrid to see the sportswitch of the year awards, Ezra was stuck on ministry fundraiser duty. There certainly was nothing like a gala for rich people by rich people when the focus was making more money. He sighed, as a rich boy himself, he never understood the purpose of being so aloof about it.  Why did rich fancy people throw rich fancy parties. Upper middle class himself, with a good deal of influence tied to his name, Ezra supposed he had been to his fair share of fundraising galas. In fact, without his press pass, he would have likely still had to be here, tagging along with his mother and father, both of whom were invited. Or, maybe he could have gotten out of it. As it was, he had likely been assigned this event because his parents were attending, not despite it. He was dressed nicely in a suit and bow-tie, but he felt out of place.

The whole ordeal was boring, the awards and silent auction torturous. He had spoken to a few people, got a few comments, and was ready for the event to be over so he could go ahead and go back to the hotel room he had gotten in Edinburgh for the event. No one was actually watching him, or the champagne, and as such he had had several glasses and was a little buzzed, but it was nothing like what he really wanted. He felt tired, just a bit. He wanted to go home, smoke a bowl, and pass out on his King-sized hotel bed… at least until he had to check out in the morning.

He was feeling lonely, too. He barely knew anyone here, and was getting bored just standing around making small talk with stuffy old people. Ezra thrived on energy and entertaining others, but when they were so stiff and serious, he had trouble relating. When he finally saw a familiar face, he beelined to Deirdre Coltrane, a girl he knew from Hogwarts. Not only had the two of them had a few flirtations in the past (though she never seemed particularly interested in anything beyond flirtation), but he also often bought what she called ‘party potions’ off of her for those nights where, well, he wanted to party. They had been coming more often than not as of late, he was missing his friends, being lonely and tired. He wanted to party. He wanted to liven this place up.

“Yo Deirdre.” He greeted, “Got any of your stuff tonight? I think you and I should spike the punch.” He teased.

@Deirdre Coltrane

'Smile,' she heard her grandmother say for like the dozenth time. Deirdre stared at her, her expression still pretty neutral, but she hated it when her grandmother told her to smile as though she was a little child. Was she also supposed to curtsy in front of her grandparents' old acquaintances? She was tired of all the polite small talk by now. It was all so fake. These stuck up people were boring to her and the girl felt ready to do something silly. Maybe she should ask the husband of this couple if he was a regular visitor to her mother’s brothel. That would spice things up a little. She could sense the scrutinising look her grandmother gave her and bit her tongue. For now.

Deirdre had already found various reasons to excuse herself for brief moments of time but had always dutifully returned to her grandparents’ side. 'Our Deirdre is an apprentice potioneer now,' her grandfather said proudly and Deirdre only just refrained from rolling her eyes. She wondered what her grandparents had told people about her mother when they had found out that she was working at and, by now, running a brothel. Had they proudly talked about that, too? The business was quite profitable. Surely Moira could donate some money for the fundraiser, too. The thought amused Deirdre. Her facial expression, however, remained impassive.

“If you excuse me, please,” Deirdre said softly, “ladies’ room,” she whispered into her grandfather’s ear and turned around. She had enough. It was really too much to endure. While Deirdre didn’t mind the green velvet dress she was wearing and also felt quite comfortable showing off the pearl necklace her grandmother had lent her for the occasion, the girl was tired of being shown off like she was a cute little child. She was an adult witch now and surely not quite the kind of girl her grandparents wanted to see in her.

Her eyes lit up as Ezra Cohen approached her. The Hufflepuff graduate was probably more fun than half of the people present together. Her lips still formed a thin line as he greeted her. She was unwilling to show him that she was pleased to see him. Maybe he’d let him know later, for now, however, he had to prove himself worthy of her attention.

“Ezra,” she responded to the greeting indifferently. Then she tilted her head as he teased her about her potions. “I might have something here,” she admitted, lifting her purse up a little to indicate that she was carrying vials in there. “The best stuff, however,” she said leaning closer to him, “is here,” she said in a whisper and pointed at her cleavage. It was always a good thing to have the most precious vial where it couldn’t get lost so easily.

Ezra grinned as Deirdre lifted her purse, insinuating she did have those potions handy. How many did he think he would need to liven up the party? For himself, just one, but for everyone else—hmm. He really did want to spike the punch, all jokes aside. Of course, when she motioned to her cleavage, his eyes followed, and he was stuck staring at her chest for a hot second before he remembered to find the eyes. “Oh? Something new and special?” He asked, peeking. “Or were you just insinuating that your tits are phenomenal? Either way, yes, I am interested.” He teased lightly, catching her eyes. She seemed to have some light in them now, and he wondered if that was for him. She sometimes seemed to like him, but usually just like to play with him. He wasn’t used to this, as he was a genuine person who liked others genuinely. He wasn’t used to playing games and as such, his tender heart went through the blender multiple times throughout his life.

He liked Deirdre for the most part. She was a Slytherin, but that had never stopped him before. Circe was a Slytherin. She was definitely one for games, but he liked to play around too—so maybe there was some potential there. He liked being silly and dumb and she seemed to like that look on him, too. She was very pretty, and she seemed smart and pretty cool, too. There was a reason they spoke in school.

He smiled up at her a little, very dark brown eyes meeting green.

Smirking slightly, Deirdre observed Ezra’s reaction to her pointing out where she kept her potions. Of course her cleavage attracted his attention. She had known this. It had been the reason why she had made the comment in the first place. She liked the attention, the game, and the flirt.

“Maybe,” she said in a mysterious voice. “You should try to find out.” Deirdre looked him in the eyes, an indifferent expression on her face. She was more than willing to tempt him into reaching for the vial hidden between her breasts - even, no especially in public. They could cause a scene. Maybe she’d slap him, maybe she’d kiss him. It was a fifty-fifty chance.

“So…” she started, narrowing her eyes as she watched him closely. “Would you really want to spike the punch? Aren’t you worried about the consequences?” Deirdre wasn’t worried herself. She’d let him do the dirty work anyway. She could hardly be held responsible for some foolishness others committed using her potions.

She pulled a small vial out of her purse and held it out for him between index finger and thumb. The liquid was changing colours from lime green to sulphur yellow. “A few drops of this will cause a mayhem… if you’re brave enough for it. I dare you.”

“Mayhem, huh?” He smiled, looking between her eyes and her chest again. She really did have amazing cleavage, and he was a sucker for the little things like that. “Like what?” He asked, curious. He wondered if he would be able to get away with it, and was pretty sure he would. He considered this, carefully. She dared him. He wondered if he would get a prize out of it if he impressed her. 
 
“Sometimes I wonder if you want to see my shenanigans or just want me to humiliate myself in public.” He teased, knowing full-well it was both. “You dare me, huh? And what do I get if I impress you?” He grinned, catching her eyes again. “You should let me walk you home.” He decided. “I know you’re close by here, right? I got a hotel room a few blocks over. We could stop by there, I’ll smoke you out.” He smiled lightly. 
 
“IF I impress you.” He decided, playing along. 

Deirdre looked at him for a moment, her facial expression quite indifferent. Then a slight innocent smile spread across her face. “Well, this potion gets rid of any inhibitions people may have. It makes them bolder… combined with alcohol it might encourage people to do some crazy things.”

She nodded in the direction of an old man who was watching a far younger woman with undisguised interest. “He might actually approach her and who knows what he’d try to do.”

As Ezra teased her Deirdre’s smile vanished and was replaced by her usual neutral expression. “Do you really wonder about that?” she asked, looking him in the eyes but not making an attempt to answer his question. It really was a little of both and that was actually how Deirdre treated most males around her age. She liked to tease them, to make them do things she wanted them to do, to show her that they were actually the weaker gender.

“You want a reward other than the fun you’ll have to witness what will happen?” she asked seriously. His suggestion didn’t sound bad, though. Any excuse to leave this event was welcome.

“Okay,” Deirdre looked around and then her gaze rested on him again. “If you spike the punch and offer that guy a glass of it then I might let you walk me home… I might also accept a smoke.” She didn’t say that she was definitely going to do that but she hoped that the certainty that they’d leave the event together and the prospect that she might take him up on his offer were enough of an incentive.

Ezra followed Deirdre’s eyes to the older man and the younger woman, chuckling to himself at the mental image of the man making a move on the lady, and listening to what his peer was saying. She had a nice sense of humor about her. He knew she wanted to see him fail just as badly as she wanted to see him succeed—and he wasn’t really sure if she had a preference. He laughed again when she asked him if he really wondered that, and he laughed a little louder.

“No, not really. I know you want both.” He grinned. He knew the name of this game, but didn’t mind playing along. He liked her, and liked making her smile, even if her smiles were few and far between. “You can’t expect me to be your jester all the time and not even get a bone thrown my way.” He joked. “Or, well, you can expect it but eventually even I may lose interest in being teased like a cat, but never getting the cream.” He grinned.

“You might?” He asked. “I suppose that’s fair. We’ll call it a date.” He took the vial, slid it into his sleeve, and blew her a kiss on his way to the punch. He poured himself a glass of it, looking casual, then looked around to see if anyone was looking. He went to pour in a few drops, but his hand slipped a bit more than he thought, and considerably more than a few drops went into the punch. This would be fine, right?

He put the vial away quickly, and was glad to see that only Deirdre was watching. Hopefully, she hadn’t told on him for the purpose of getting him caught. Surely the morbid curiosity would be worth the risk of letting him get away with it, right?

Pretending to be a waiter, and looking the part very much, he went over to clear some of the mess off of the older gentleman’s table, offering a tainted glass of punch. “Care for more punch?” He asked the man over the sound of the music, loud enough for Deirdre to hear if she was close by. The man said thanks, and took it, taking a sip.

Ezra left the vicinity before he gave it all away with the wicked grin on his face. He caught the redhead’s eyes, flicking his tongue out at her playfully, then coming back to her side. “Went off without a hitch, yeah?” He teased, looking around but not nervously. He wondered who all would taste the tainted punch before the night was over, but, truthfully, he wanted to get far away before the shit hit the fan.

Ezra was a typical young man. Deirdre found it amusing how easy he was to manipulate, how easily he agreed to do something foolish just to impress her. Well, she appreciated it, of course. It was one of her favourite things to tease wizards of her generation and encourage them to make a fool of themselves.

He seemed to understand her motives and yet he was happy to play along. Deirdre looked at him, trying to keep a neutral expression when she really felt quite amused. However, she thought that it was never wise to show a boy that he was funny. It got straight to their heads and then they didn’t even try to think anymore. Not that the heterosexual male species was very good at thinking in front of girls anyway.

“You think you’ll lose interest?” Deirdre asked, feeling surprised and amused at the same time. Surely Ezra was still willing to let her toy with him for a while longer. She had noticed, though, that ever since she graduated it was harder to just toy with boys. They wanted more, more than she was willing to give. Deirdre was happy to let a boy look at her breast or kiss but she wasn’t really eager to go further than that.

“Alright then,” Deirdre said as Ezra seemed content with the deal. He took the vial from her and slid it in his sleeve, blowing her a kiss as he approached the punch. She did not blow a kiss back, didn’t even smile but watched him with unconcealed interest as he did what she had asked him to do.

He was really doing a good job. She could tell that he might have put too much of the potion into the punch but that only made it even funnier. Then he went to the older wizard’s table and successfully offered him a glass of punch. A smile briefly curved her lips but as Ezra returned to her it had been replaced by her usual impassive expression.

“You did well,” she said approvingly and turned to watch the older gentleman. “Shall we wait until hell breaks loose or run for it already?”

Ezra considered this, feeling nervous and excited all at once. “I dunno.” He admitted. “Do you want to get caught or do you want to have that date?” He teased lightly. “Maybe we should bail now. I’m sure we’ll hear about the aftermath in the prophet.” He joked, but he meant it. He offered her a hand. “Shall we make a run for it?” He offered with a slight grin.

His heart was beating fast, and part of him wanted to see the aftermath, but he definitely didn’t want to get caught before he got to enjoy the pretty lady’s company.  He started towards the door, hoping she would follow. She hadn’t said no to this being a date, and he appreciated that, but he was having low expectations for romance nowadays. No one really wanted to keep him, they wanted him for a night or not at all. He doubted Deirdre would be any different than the others if she even wanted him for the night. She wouldn’t want to date with him and be with him. No one did.

She kept herself so controlled, too. He wondered if she liked him at all, or just liked to toy with him. Either way, he was keeping emotional distance.

“I most certainly don’t want to get caught,” Deirdre said, a slightly amused undertone in her voice, “but I didn’t pour the potion into the punch.” She opted for a most angelic smile. She was about to say that it was not in her responsibility what people used her potions for and that nobody could even prove that it had been one of her concoctions that had been poured into the punch but refrained.

“Yes, let’s leave,” she said, looking at his hand for a second before taking it. Holding hands with Ezra felt odd. Deirdre didn’t picture herself as the kind of girl who walked hand in hand with a boy but it was somehow nice anyway.

“I should probably tell my grandparents that I’m leaving,” she said, but seeing them approach the punch with some of their old acquaintances she shook her head. “Or maybe not. They can work that out themselves.”

As they stepped out of the building, Deirdre looked back over her shoulder. “Nobody is following us,” she said, sounding almost disappointed.

“So you said your hotel is close by?” she asked, hinting at the fact that she was expecting Ezra to put in some effort if he wanted this to be a date of some sort.

Ezra was surprised but relieved to find that not only die Deirdre take his hand, but that no one followed them out of the hall. He looked back behind them, but it was empty. He grinned, giving her hand a little squeeze and feeling a bit like he’d just stolen the Mona Lisa. “Good, maybe we’ll get away with it after-all.” He laughed, feeling a little high even though he had not taken any potion for himself. He wasn’t high, either. He had been at work. Okay, well, that meant little, but his parents had been nearby and of course he wanted to seem more professional.
 
“Oh yeah, it’s only a few blocks.” He grinned. “You care to come up? We can order in and I’ll smoke you out.” He teased, thinking of a few other things he might not have minded to do with, or to, her. He was keeping it light, though. He wouldn’t be pressuring her into anything or trying too hard. He knew the name of this game. She was a tease and he liked to chase, and that was the game—cat and mouse. Sometimes, though, the mouse wanted to be caught, and he really, genuinely hoped this was one of those times.
 
Without waiting for a reply, he started walking that way, leading the way hand-in-hand. “So, what got you on Fundraising Banquet and auction duty? I hear you talk about your grandparents, they have a vested interest or something? Of course, my parents were there too. Anything about the ministry merits a visit from the media, I guess.” He teased. He looked down at his own press pass. “I was doing interviews and stuff for work, making nice, all that shit.” He laughed lightly.
 
“So far, your company is absolutely the highlight of the evening.”

Nodding, Deirdre looked at Ezra, “yes, I think we will. Good thing we didn’t stay to watch what happened. That might have given us away.” Truth be told the girl would have loved to see the mayhem but it was definitely clever to run for it while they still could do so.

“You think without a smoke I won’t enjoy your company as much?” Deirdre asked teasingly. She wondered if Ezra had such amazingly good stuff or why he kept suggesting it. Did he need drugs to feel braver himself? Well, it didn’t really matter to her. For now the girl was happy to play along.

They walked hand in hand - like a couple. Deirdre bit her lip as this thought occurred to her. Ezra would make a decent boyfriend. He was from good pureblood family, he was fun to hang out with, he was handsome…

His question interrupted her thoughts and Deirdre shrugged. “My grandparents thought it was a good idea for me to get to know some people there. They create magical musical instruments and know many people… many old people,” she offered a hint of a smile and then went on. “They go to these events to reconnect to people and to introduce me.” She was tempted to say that they were glad that she hadn’t stepped into her mother’s footsteps but refrained. Ezra didn’t know about that part of her history and didn’t need to know it.

“So is your company for me,” Deirdre confessed. “I think if I had had to talk to one more of these people I’d have disappointed my grandparents by making comments they wouldn’t want to hear me say to their friends.”

He laughed a little, a little nervous by her comment about smoking. Truthfully, she was right. If she didn’t get high with him—and if he didn’t get a little high, himself—he worried he wouldn’t be funny or interesting. He had a pretty low opinion of himself when he wasn’t on the stage, and was nervous. He liked her. He thought she was pretty and wanted her to like him and try to keep him around. Instead of affirming the very true statement, however, he shrugged it off a little bit. “I just thought you might want to—you seem a bit stressed.” That was his nice way of saying she was a little uptight-looking. “You know, let your hair down and have some fun.” He smiled, a twinkle in his eye despite his own insecurity. He liked flirting with her. He wanted her to let her hair down with him. Maybe let him tug on it a little from behind. 
 
“Sounds like they might know my parents.” He admitted. “Dad doesn’t buy many instruments, but knows musicians and famous people in the music business.” He admitted. “Owning a radio station and all that, you know?” He shrugged again. “I think dad kind of wants me to take over the radio one day, which he already knows I will never be able to handle—that’s why mum has me in Law School for now. She basically said I could be a Doctor or a Lawyer, and so Lawyer sounded more fun. Blood makes me squeamish.” He teased. “It’s not really what I love or am passionate about, but I’m alright. If it makes them happy, I guess. I just hope one day the band takes off, or I get some opportunity to do some actual writing or comedy or performing on my own and they realize that I was made to be an entertainer—not a Lawyer.” He admitted, getting a little deep. “I don’t think mum will allow me to be a full-time musician unless we’re already famous when she finds out that I’m still keeping to my ‘silly hobby.’” He laughed despite himself. 
 
“What about you, certainly you don’t want to make musical instruments. It’s a waste of that potioneering talent.” He joked. “You have any… big aspirations yourself?” He wondered. They were getting near his hotel. It wasn’t far from the venue at all, only a few short blocks. 
 
“For the record, you do actually want to come up, yeah? Otherwise, I’ll just walk you home. No pressure or anything. It’s just, you know, nice to talk to a gorgeous woman and have her give me the time of day.” He teased. It was ironic, almost, as Deirdre was bound to know about Ezra’s long string of girlfriends. In fact, he was almost never without one at least until recently. He hadn’t been on a date since the drama with Winifred in February, though there had been a few one-nighters at clubs since then. Ezra got around, but seemed to think that he didn’t really have any luck. Girls wanted him, but they never wanted to stay with him more than a month or two before they would inevitably get bored and dump him. It was sad. He wanted love, not just sex. He was looking for love. 

“Stressed?” Deirdre glanced at him, trying to keep her expression unreadable but, truth be told, she was surprised that he had gotten this impression. She wasn’t really stressed, she just didn’t like the way her grandparents showed her off as though they were relieved that she had chosen a decent path and was different from her mother. She wasn’t like Moira, that was a fact. Deirdre was a lot better at hiding her feelings, she was calm and collected. She rarely went into open fights. There was usually a way around everything if one took the time to examine more closely. Her mother, however, seemed to want to prove a point, and wanted to demonstrate something.

“I’m not stressed,” she said, “I just had enough of these old people who cling to their prejudices and whose favourite activity is to judge people and present themselves as the greatest alive.” A soft laugh escaped her as the girl thought about the things her grandparents didn’t know about her. They deemed her one of them. They were unaware that she sold party potions, they knew nothing about her employment at the detective agency and it pleased her enormously to know that they were in the dark about that.

“I’m sure they do,” Deirdre nodded. Ezra was right, their families surely knew each other. They were still holding hands and Deirdre wondered what her grandparents would think of this match. They’d probably approve of it, not knowing that he invited her to have a smoke with him.

Ezra spoke of his future plans and Deirdre nodded along. She could understand where he came from. “I think you should do what you are passionate about. Don’t waste your life doing something others expect you to do. Do you think your family would cut you off all the money if you went your own way?”

Now it seemed to be her time to speak about her hopes and dreams for the future and Deirdre watched a homeless person who seemed to check the trash for something worthwhile, taking her time to answer.

“Big aspirations?” She shook her head,  “I like where I’m at now. For the time being it’s good. I’m learning how to become a better potioneer. My family even approves of that. I also create potions that I can sell and that are fun… well, for those who use them and for me to watch what they do to them… I want to be independent and I’ll reach that goal soon enough.”

Ezra’s insecurity was cute and Deirdre looked at him, her expression neutral as usual. “I thought I had already agreed to come up,” she said, hesitating a second or two before allowing herself to offer him the hint of a smile.

tw: marijuana

Ezra watched Deirdre with interest as she spoke, giving her hand a little squeeze. He blushed a little as she called him out in his insecurity, but he took it. He deserved to be teased a little bit. He led the way upstairs, and motioned to the large bed in the middle of the room. “Go ahead, get comfy. I’m gonna take off this fucking tie and these shoes, holy cow.” He teased, loosening his tie and kicking off his loafers. He watched her carefully and with interest, wondering how comfortable she would let herself get with him.

He began rolling a blunt for them to share, eyes flicking up to her every now and then. “I think you’ll be independent soon enough. I dunno about me, though. My parents are so involved in everything I do. Sometimes I just… want to leave everything behind and run away. I keep daydreaming about New York City and the theater academy there. I was meant to perform, you know?” He licked the side of the paper to seal the blunt, and joined Deirdre on the bed, sitting close enough that their thighs touched.

“You want first toke?” He offered, catching her eye. He smiled warmly, feeling butterflies.