Late evening in a London pub, and Alecto Carrow was alone. Again. It had been a long, long time since she had been out, properly, and Scabior had convinced her to come along – very much against her better judgement. Ideally, she would have been at home with a mug of hot tea and the new issue of Witch Weekly. She didn't much fancy the wizarding social scene tonight. But Scabior had wheedled, and nagged, and made snide remarks about how she probably wasn't up to date with the latest fashion trends anyway, and eventually she decided, well, what did she have to lose? Besides, she wanted to see Scabior, if only to have a chat about his friend – Fenrir Greyback, whom Alecto had been pursuing, albeit from a distance, since her third Death Eater meeting.

Now she found herself alone at the bar, wishing she had never agreed to it. Scabior was late – he was always late. It was as though no-one had taught that boy any manners whatsoever. Alecto ordered a glass of wine, smoothed down her dress, and tried not to look as though she'd been stood up. She hadn't, of course, because Scabior would be there soon, and in any case he was more like one of her girlfriends than anything else, but the people there didn't know that.

She glanced to where a group of slightly rowdy young wizards sat, trying to decide if any of them was worth trying to flirt with. One of them did meet her eyes after a moment, but he held her gaze for so long she eventually had to concede to herself that he was daydreaming, and she scowled and turned back to her drink.

So much for a girls' night out.

Scabior arrived after about fifteen minutes, typically rumpled and scruffy-looking, hair held back with a ribbon, boots leaving a trail of mud on the floor. He made an apologetic face to the barman, who was glaring at him, then leant on the counter next to Alecto.

"Pint o' lager, if you don't mind."

Alecto did not ask where he had been. She did not ask him anything at all. She looked determinedly in the other direction, sipping her wine and pretending not to notice him.

"'Right, Alecto?"

She did not answer him.

"Can you not 'ear me or summing?"

She could.

"Alecto!" He prodded her in the side of the face, causing her to nearly choke on the sip of wine she had just taken.

"What?" she spluttered, and then, as she regained composure, Scabior looking at her in mild amusement all the while, said coldly, "You're late."

"Ah, I know, I'm sorry. I just 'ad this big job to do, I got 'eld up. You'll forgive me, yeah? We're meant to be 'avin' fun."

Alecto snorted. "We could have started having fun half an hour ago."

"'Alf an hour? I'm not—Ah, come on, girl." He lifted his glass and jerked his head towards table. "Let's go sit down, eh? Don't be like that. I'm 'ere now, aren't I?"

Reluctantly, with a roll of her eyes, Alecto picked up her own glass and followed him. One of the wizards at the table she'd been watching earlier looked up as she did so, and he cursed the irony that even if he was looking at her now, he'd think she was taken. Scabior seemed to notice, too.

"'E's makin' eyes at you, that one."

"No he's not. Stop it," said Alecto, waving a hand and blushing red as they took their seats.

"'E is so. You should go over there an' introduce yourself."

"Well, not now, not now he's going to think I'm with you, you dolt."

"Oi." Scabior raised an eyebrow and pointed a finger at her. "You could do a lot worse than me, thanks very much."

"Yes, well, I'm not out looking for a date tonight, anyhow. And I don't think he's interested. Besides, it's been so long I've been out with a bloke I've forgotten what it's like."

"Which is exactly why you should go over and introduce yourself!" said Scabior. "Look, I'll go over and do it for you."

"No, don't," hissed Alecto, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him back into his seat. "I don't like him, anyway."

"Why'sat? You got your eye on someone else?" Scabior gasped softly. "You 'ave, 'aven't you?"

"No," said Alecto, not looking him in the eye. "Shh."

"'Oo is it? 'Oo is it, Alecto, you've gotta tell me now."

"No, I don't."

"You do! C'mon. Come on!'

"Alright," snapped Alecto. "It's... well, it's..."

Scabior raised his eyebrows.

"Well, it's kind of embarrassing."

"Can't be worse than Andromeda Black runnin' off with that Mudblood," said Scabior, and Alecto gave a snort of a giggle.

"That's true, I suppose... Well. You know your friend...?"

"Which one? I've got a lot of friends, love," said Scabior.

Alecto sighed, then muttered under her breath so the rest of the bar, who would surely have known who he was, didn't hear, "Fenrir Greyback."

"GREYBACK?"

"Shh!" hissed Alecto, alarmed, looking about her in a panic. As a known werewolf, and criminal, it wasn't exactly wise to speak his name in gossip.

"Sorry," said Scabior, at a more normal volume. "I just... Greyback. Blimey." He ran a hand through his tangled hair. "And you are, er... enamoured of 'im?"

"You could say that," mumbled Alecto, her cheeks flushing pink. She looked hard at the table. "I mean, I know, I know he's a half-breed and all of that, but don't you think he's just so... masculine... and... you know...?"

"Ohoho, yes." Scabior smirked and brought his pint to his lips.

"What?" Alecto looked up at him, startled. "You think so?"

"I know so," chuckled Scabior, and then had the good grace to look guilty about it.

Alecto blinked at him, then scowled. "So that's why he hasn't been paying any attention to me? Because he's gay?" she shrieked. "I thought it was maybe because I was, I don't know, not interesting enough or too fat or something, but it's because you've been screwing him all along?"

"Alright, keep your 'air on. 'E's not gay, and you ain't fat, girl. To be honest with you, if you think 'e's not payin' you any attention you should probably try a bit 'arder with your flirtin', love. Greyback'd shag the sofa if 'e thought it was lookin' at 'im in the right way."

With a meaningful nod, Scabior excused himself to use the bathroom, leaving Alecto to reflect on the sorry state of her love life.


Written for Gamma Orionis' OTP Boot Camp Challenge with the prompt 'enamoured'.