Hogwarts Assignment 10
Career Advice
Task #4 - Delivery Drivers & Shipping: Write about waiting for someone to arrive.
Ron brushed the snow out of his hair as he entered the pub, the trench coat he'd borrowed from Moody feeling heavy on his thinner frame. He walked over to the bar looking around him inconspicuously—noting everyone in the room—and sank onto a stool. He raised his hand at the bartender, a young woman with her hair pulled up into a bun, a single red curl falling into her eyes. She nodded her head in acknowledgement and raised a finger as she finished serving another patron.
Ron picked at a spot on the counter. He'd never been in a Muggle bar. Well not one that had still been intact. And he wouldn't be here today except a source that had a lead on a wizard he was tracking down had insisted on it.
The bartender finally finished up at the other end of the bar and walked over to him.
"What can I get you love?"
"A Fire- uh, a whiskey please." He read her name tag, "Jenny." He had barely stopped himself from placing his usual order.
She winked at him. "Sure thing."
Ron warmed to the woman, her flirting giving his ego a much needed boost. She grabbed a bottle off the shelf behind her filling up a glass that she pulled out from under the bar.
He lifted the glass in thanks before downing it in one gulp.
"Thirsty are we? Everything okay?" She tilted her head, the corners of her eyes crinkled in concern.
"Yeah, just work."
Ron had been on the hunt for a new wizard that had been wreaking havoc all around the world. Latest reports had him in London. He'd been assigned the case and had spent the last several weeks trying to hunt the guy down. His job was made all the more difficult by the fact that no one knew who it was. Everything they had to go on was based off guesswork. And their guessing really didn't give them much.
His luck had finally taken a turn for the better when someone had called in claiming to have information on the criminal. The man had refused to come in, convinced that there was a spy in the Auror office. So now Ron sat at the bar waiting for him.
"I know how that goes." Jenny poured him another glass. "So, what exactly is it that you do?"
He tapped his finger on the edge of the glass. "I hunt down people that...misuse their powers."
"Like politicians?"
Ron snorted, taking a sip of his drink. "I wish."
"Don't we all." She rested her hands on the bar. "Are you drinking alone?"
"No, I'm just waiting for someone."
"Ah, ok. For a date?" She raised her eyebrows suggestively.
"I wish for that even more."
"Doesn't really seem something that you should wish for. Just like something that's a given."
"You would think so wouldn't you?"
She leaned in, arms folded underneath her chest on the bar, a smile playing around her lips. "Yeah, I would."
Ron could feel the heat rising in his chest, whether from the whiskey or the intense gaze she had settled on him, he wasn't sure. His mouth grew incredibly dry and he took another drink, trying not to stare at the cleavage she was displaying.
She glanced to her right and then back at him, motioning to the door with her head. "I think your date's here." She pushed herself off the counter, digging a pen out of her apron and scribbled something on a napkin. She smirked at him, slowly folding the napkin in fourths before reaching over the bar and tucking it in his front pocket. "If it doesn't work out between you two, give me a call." she ran her tongue over her top lip before turning to walk down to the other end of the bar.
Ron watched her backside as she walked away, his thoughts wandering until someone slid onto the stool next to him.
"Weasley?"
He tore his eyes away and turned his head to study the man seated next to him. "Yeah."
The man was nothing to look at. He was completely average looking with sandy blonde hair and watery blue eyes. His eyes kept shifting from the door to Ron, as if waiting for someone to burst in at any moment.
"You said you had information."
The man licked his lips. "Yeah, the wizard. It's not a he. It's a she."
"What?"
"You are all looking for a man, but the dark wizard is a woman."
Ron rested his head against his hand. "Is that it?"
The man looked straight into his eyes for the first time, "Is that it? Are you serious? How many powerful dark witches do you know? I think I just narrowed the pool of suspects down considerably."
"I need more."
"I don't have more."
Ron rubbed his jaw, "So, you dragged me all the way out here, to a Muggle bar—they don't even have good whiskey—to tell me that I'm looking for a woman? How do you even know that?"
His eye twitched. "Because she attacked me?"
Ron sat up straight, turning his body towards the man. "You saw her?"
The man shook his head, casting his eyes downward. "No, I heard her voice. It was too dark to see her face. But it was definitely a woman."
"Okay, then how do you know she's the one we're looking for?"
"She used the hex. The one that only she uses."
Ron looked him over. "There's no way you'd be alive if she used that spell on you."
The man's hands begin to tremble. "Not me," he choked out the words, "My wife."
Ron shut his eyes. "Merlin's beard."
He opened them again when he heard the stool scrape against the floor. The man had stood and moved to leave. Ron grabbed his arm. "Wait, would you be willing to come in and have someone examine your memories? To see if we can discover anything."
The man jerked his arm away. "I'm risking my life coming to you at all." He practically ran out the door.
Ron swiveled back to face the bar, cradling the glass in his hand as images of past victims came to mind. The aftermath of the Sectumsempra curse was always messy and ugly. He couldn't even imagine that man having to see his wife in that condition. He had wanted to push the man into coming in but he just couldn't. He jerked when he felt a hand rest on his arm.
"Sorry," Jenny said withdrawing her hand, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You look pretty shaken up."
Ron forced a smile on his face. "I'm fine."
She smiled sympathetically. "Alright, well, I'm just going to go in the back and grab a couple of bottles. Could you keep an eye on all these wankers for me?"
"Of course."
His eyes drifted to her backside once again, except this time he could have sworn she was swinging her hips for his benefit.
She disappeared into the back room and he returned his gaze to the almost empty glass in front of him. He should have asked for a refill.
Footsteps alerted him to her return, but when he looked up it was a man walking out of the back room.
"Another glass?" The man pointed to his nearly finished drink.
He just nodded, craning his head to see around the man.
"Where's Jenny?"
"Who?" he asked while pouring him another few fingers.
"Jenny, the other bartender."
The man gave him a weird look. "I'm the only one working tonight, mate."
Ron quirked an eyebrow. "She was just—nevermind. Just one too many to drink I guess."
The bartender nodded at him.
Ron pulled the napkin out of his pocket front pocket where Jenny had tucked it away. He opened it slowly, trying to steady his hands as he fumbled with the folds. His eyes scanned the hastily written message and his lips parted in surprise.
You're slipping :-*
He dropped the napkin on the bar, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. Son of a bitch.
Right at that moment he heard a scream come from outside and a woman ran in. "There's a man laying in the street! I think-I think he's dead!"
Ron stood, pulling a few bills of Muggle money out of his pocket and placing them on the bar. He shook his head as he walked out the door and down the street to where a small crowd was beginning to gather. A sandy haired man lay sprawled on the ground, blood pooled around his body. Son of a bitch.
