Chapter 11
Behind me, Carl puts his arm around Severus' shoulders- not an easy feat considering he's about two feet shorter than Snape. As Deena leads me over to the bar in the middle of about a hundred slot machines, I can hear Carl going on about his lousy luck at the sports book. Snape is somehow "mmhmm"ing along with Carl at the appropriate times, but I suspect it's all those years of having to suffer through interminable meals at the staff table that's keeping him what passes for amiable. We pull up four stools at the nearly-deserted bar and Deena orders everyone a Long Island Iced Tea before we can protest. As the bartender fills the order, Deena smiles and regales us with enough information to piece together an hour an a half of our night.
"Now," says Deena, settling her ample bottom on the stool a little more securely. She starts to fuss with the dog in her lap and suddenly I remember something.
"Senor Plinko!" I interrupt. The little bug-eyed chihuahua whips his head up to look at me and I feel strangely accomplished.
"So you do remember something!" says Carl brightly. "Well, that's good! Didn't kill too many brain cells."
"Seeeee? You're not so bad off," Deena coos.
Senor Plinko looks up at me expectantly so I reach out to stroke his head, but he growls and nips at me. I tuck my hand safely back in my lap and console myself with the drink that has appeared in front of me.
Severus leans over and begins in a voice I recognize as his "I've had quite enough of this thank you, now tell me what I want to know before I turn you or a nearby loved one into slime mold" voice. "Mrs..." he starts, but Deena laughs loudly again.
"Oh, Lou, we're over those little formalities, sweetie."
He perseveres with an endurance I didn't think possible. "Er... Deena. We appreciate your much welcomed hospitality. Regardless, we endeavor to rediscover the events of last night."
Carl cracks up and playfully jabs his wife in the arm. "If I had fifty cents for every two dollar word that boy uses!"
I reach beside me and squeeze Severus' knee in a plea to be patient. "So, Deena, what the hell happened last night?" I say with a very forced smile. As infuriating as they may be, Carl and Deena are our only leads.
"Ha! There's the potty mouth we came to love," Carl laughs. He downs half of his drink in one go and emerges pink cheeked.
Deena giggles and hoists Senor Plinko up to give him a kiss, leaving a bright pink lip print on his boney head. "Well, we were over there by the Wheel of Fortune spinners like Carl said. And you kids walked over laughing about something and sorta of kidding around and arguing over something or other."
"Do you hear what we were saying by any chance?"
"Oh, gosh, something about how you were right, no, he was right, so on and so on."
"Sounds accurate," Severus mutters.
I smile up at Deena to encourage her to continue. "And then you sat down near us, and we said hello and you introduced yourself as the Malfoys - -" At this, Severus' knee tensed under my fingers. "We got to talking about where you were from, what with your accents and all. And you said you were here for a convention." I don't remember the conversation, but it all seems right so far. WHY we introduced ourselves as the Malfoy's makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, but at least we seemed to be consistent. "We asked what kind, and you said magic!"
We both tense this time and my jaw tightens. "Oh," we both say, strained.
"Well, we just couldn't let you go after that! So fascinating!
"Magic, you say," I repeat hopelessly.
"And it explained your innnteresting clothes! You know, I always been something of a fashion maven myself! And I just loooove the looks for next season. How brilliant, bringing that Jane Austen look back! I just loved Kira Knightly in that movie."
I have absolutely no clue what she's talking about, but seeing as our identities are somewhat blown as it is I press her to see how. "Did we talk much about work, then?" I ask, contemplating how I will obliviate her without my wand.
"Oh, noooo, no, not at all. In fact, the more I asked, the less interested you looked, so I didn't want to bother you with work when it seemed you wanted to get away from all that for the night."
"And get away you did!" Carl interjects. "I've never seen someone hold their liquor so well while having that much fun."
"He's getting ahead of the story," Deena says, waving her hand and picking up her drink before starting again.
I remember my own and, in an attempt to show some appreciation for their hospitality, I take a sip. Suddenly it's like Ligillimancy all over again. The taste of the tequila hits me behind my nose and I remember more than I care to. Suddenly certain bruises are explained. Bumping into the corners of things as we gamboled around the city. Walking into sliding glass doors that weren't sliding fast enough. The back ends of cars in parking garages. Parking garages? Didn't we use valet? Ugh. Too much. Carl's assessment of holding one's liquor must be a very broad one.
I slide off my seat and smile weakly. "I'm sorry. My stomach must not be up for another drink so soon."
Deena looks sympathetic as she pats my shoulder. "Don't worry, honey. We'll take care of Lou." She leans in to whisper, "The powder room is over there."
I wind my way through the cocktail waitresses and the ambling sight-seers without looking back. Severus- Or Lou, now, will have to hold his own with our gracious hosts. Whatever is still rumbling around in my stomach is anxious to make its presence known. How could we have been so foolish? How could we have let ourselves become so inebriated that we would break the Secrecy Laws? Blown expense accounts... Lost wands... The blatant disregard for the Secrecy Laws... Not to mention being drunk and obviously disorderly while at an INTERNATIONAL potions convention... Forget the tequila; I'm ready to be sick all on my own.
And everything would have been just FINE if I hadn't come around the corner and run my face directly into some woman's fist.
