As the only thing that was currently residing in Lavender's icebox were 30 bottles of water, she figured she'd go to the Leaky again. Tom hadn't kicked her out yet, so she figured it'd be fine. Hearing the groan when she walked through the door got her attention, however, and she let her eyes adjust to the dark before seeking out the source. She smirked, shaking her head as she made her way over to the booth Justin was sitting in. "Mr. Finch-Fletchley, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were stalking me. It's a well known fact I eat here every night. I'd sleep here as well if Tom didn't hike up his prices for reporters."

Justin very discreetly closed the folder before him and stuffed it in his messenger bag. "Brown, if I were actually stalking you, you'd never know it."

He sighed when she sat down. How ironic was it that he'd thought about her during his lunch today with Susan and here she was. The drunk at the next table over was leering at Lavender. Justin turned slowly and glared until the man was looking into his mug. He might have a boyish face, but there was something in his eyes that usually let people know he should not be underestimated.

 

"Now this time I know I didn't invite you over. What are you doing? Come to play twenty questions again?"

"No. Just dinner." She waved her hand and signaled for someone to come over. She was going to have the soup tonight, she'd decided on the way over. Something to warm her up. "I don't need to ask you a thing." She looked over at him. It was obvious her sitting down was probably not something he wanted, which made the intrusion all the more fun. One of the reasons an Unspeakable had never been interviewed was because they were usually horrible at talking. Yes, they were secretive, and yes, they couldn't really talk about it in the first place, but the biggest draw was the fact that they always seemed to be so damned anti-social. Lavender loved trying to get someone to talk. She'd sit here in silence the whole night if she'd get to see him squirm.

When the barmaid made her way over, Lavender smiled. "Nancy. How are you?"

"Good, Lav. Fish and chips? Same as last night?"

"No, I'm feeling a bit adventurous tonight. What's the soup?"

"Um," the girl turned around and looked towards the kitchen before turning back towards Lavender. "I think it's a stew of some sort."

"You think because you forgot what it was today, or you think because you saw it and you couldn't decipher if it was an animal, vegetable or a mineral?"

"The second."

Lavender grimaced before shrugging. "Well, if it kills me, at least I know the person who'll write my obit. Send out a bowl."

The girl rose an eyebrow, though Lavender wasn't sure if it was in concern, and turned. Lavender smiled back at Justin. She didn't need to say anything. She was fine with the silence.

Justin chose to ignore her and eat. He shifted the crisps around and picked out all the broken ones or the ones that didn't look tasty. He ate those first. After he finished the crisps and halfed his sandwich, roast beef, he opened it up to situate it properly. It was after he'd picked off the pickles and lettuce that her stew came. Justin eyed it suspiciously. He certainly would not have eaten something that looked like that.

Adventurous palate got added to his Lavender list.

He made sure his roast beef was distributed evenly and the mustard had no large globs before reassembling it and taking at bite. He did not look at her, but ate methodically. When he was finished, eating the pickles last, all that was left upon his plate was the lettuce. He wasn't a fan of lettuce though. It didn't digest well, and that bothered him about it. It was also the reason he disliked corn. When you chewed something up, it ought to stay chewed.

Lavender grabbed the spoon that had been brought out with the... liquid... that was in her bowl and swirled it about. Things floated to the surface that looked a sort of purple color before they became submerged again. Shrugging, she took a bite, staring at a spot over Justin's shoulder as she chewed what she hoped was a bean of some kind. Forcing herself to swallow and telling herself that she'd tried much worse things while in France, she ate what she could of the stew before she stopped. Her stomach had been acting funny for a bit now, thus water being the only liquid in her flat, and she didn't want to tempt fate.

She sat back in the booth, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at Justin's head. His hair was spiky. It was dark, and it was spiky. She couldn't really recall what he'd looked like when they were younger younger, like as first or second years. Well, she hadn't really noticed anyone until the fourth year. That was when all the boys had become noticeable. She thought about ordering a glass of wine, but thought better of it. She didn't need wine. She needed to read up on more quidditch things for her impending article and interview with... someone. Cody hadn't said who.

She opened her mouth to ask him if he followed quidditch and could point her in the right direction, but closed it, biting on her lower lip and looking down into her bowl of stew. Liquid. Sewage. Whatever it had been that she'd just eaten.

Justin waved Nancy back over. "Bring her something else please. She's looking at it like it wronged her. I admire the bravery, but I'd rather not see any vomit tonight. And do you have any more of those pickled beets?"

"Yeah."

"Small jar please. Another butterbeer and whatever the lady wants. Please."

"Justin, you feeling all right?" Nancy asked.

"Fine. Why?"

"You just said please. Twice."

"Nancy, I don't need anything else." Lavender leaned across the table, narrowing her eyes at him. "I'm not hungry anymore, thank you very much. And for Gods sake, pickled beets? Are you mad? What if those were the purple things floating in my supposed stew?"

"Well, who'd put beets in stew? They do fine by themselves. I like pickled things. Besides, the beets will turn my teeth and lips pink. It's amusing."

Nancy looked from one to the other before leaving.

"But you can't see your teeth and lips, so you wouldn't know if they're pink. How would they be amusing to you if you can't even see them?"

"Don't tell me you never look in the mirror," Justin said in a fake reproachful tone. "I won't believe you. Anyone who writes articles for Witch Weekly looks in the mirror at least three times a day. Does it tell you who the fairest of them all is? If I read about Snow White being involved with the WWCF then I'll tell her not to eat any apples."

Lavender glared at him. "Yes. I look in a mirror. In case you haven't noticed," she motioned to herself, "I happen to be a girl. You, for all my reporting prowess, do not appear to suffer from the same affliction. And yes, I wrote for Witch Weekly, but not all of us are able to survive on the pittance the Prophet deems a salary." She opened her mouth to say something else when a jar pull of pickled beets was set down in front of him, and a hot fudge sundae was set down in front of her. "What the hell is this?"

"Tom sent it out."

"Well you can tell Tom to shove it up his arse. He knows very well that I'm allergic to dairy and I'd enjoy it if he stopped making fun of my hives." Lavender glared at Nancy until she took the offending dessert away. She turned back to Justin. "Witch Weekly happens to pay very well for those types of stories and it didn't hurt that I happened to have pictures of Neville Longbottom wearing something that revealed his arms to the world."

"Have you ever actually been to a WWCF match?"

"Well, no."

"Well, I've never seen Neville there."

Lavender cocked her head to the side. "Really?" She smiled. She smiled the type of smile that made it clear she'd just found out something very, very interesting. "You don't say." She put her chin in her hand and leaned heavily on the table.

"To watch, not to participate, so stop sniffing out your next story. You know you should have spoken to the owner of the Sticks. You'd have gotten a far more interesting story about how Blaise Zabini got his arse handed to him by a tiny woman." Justin smiled. "It just gives me a warm glow thinking about it. She did more damage than Longbottom."

She smirked. "I know exactly how it went down, and knowing such, I think you can appreciate that I didn't want to make that 'tiny woman' angry. I know exactly what happened in school. I was a gossip whore, Mr. Finch-Fletchley. I wouldn't want to put Mac on my bad side by telling the readers all the juicy details of exactly why she beat the shite out of Zabini. I'm not an idiot, contrary to popular belief. I figured insinuating that Neville Longbottom was a member of the Wizarding Wandless Combat Federation would be the lesser of two evils. I needed the money, it earned me a favor, and the wizarding world now knows how handsome Mr. Longbottom is."

Lavender screwed up her face and bit her lower lip. "Though, that might be a bad thing, according to one of the witnesses. Seems him and Mac are-" She waved her hand in the air, dismissing the thought. "Nevermind. No one would try to take him from Mac. They'd get their arms ripped off and be beaten to death with the bloody stubs." She suddenly turned back to look at Justin, her finger jutting out in his direction. "And it's no use pulling me from the fact that you attend WWCF fighting matches in your spare time. I'd never had pegged you for a boxing fan, Mr. Finch-Fletchley. You surprise me."

I like watching to see how the loser lost and the winner won. Replaying the mistakes that were taken advantage of, the lucky breaks. "I do a lot of things people don't suspect I do, but that's true of more people than you think. I'd keep an eye open, Brown. From what I understand from Mr. MacDougal, his sister is very protective of her Neville. Brody seemed to insinuate the whomever wrote that article might find themselves missing body parts. Maybe you should look Terry Boot up and ask him what swallowing teeth feels like." Why do you think I don't like Hannah with Zabini? Especially not now that I can put two and two together, but who didn't know what he did to most of the girls back then? I know why he and Mac fought that day.

"Well, if that's the case, then this may very well be the last dinner you and I shall ever have, Mr. Finch-Fletchley." Lavender frowned when a glass of wine was placed in front of her. She followed the arm up to look at Tom. She narrowed her eyes. "You sent me ice cream."

"Your cheeks were flushed. You looked like you needed something to cool down."

"Did it look like I needed hives?"

"Your hives are cute."

"I will hex you, Tom."

"Do they cover your whole body?"

Lavender's eyes widened and she looked up at Tom with her mouth open in shock. "Get out of here before I hex you into next week!" She shook her head when Tom backed away laughing. She grabbed the wine he'd brought her and took a drink. "If I had known the man was that funny in school, I'd have spent every summer here," she said to herself, laughing.

Doesn't mind inappropriate dirty humor.

Justin took his hand off of his wand and relaxed. He been about to throw a hex until she started laughing. He was somewhat relieved to find that he could be less polite with her, that it would not be frowned upon. He knew what Tom was like. Justin had been coming in here a couple of times a week since he started working for the Ministry. Tom liked the Unspeakables in his place. You also knew which barmaids had a sense of humor and liked dirty jokes. They were the ones that lasted.

"Are they letting you cover Megan's trial?" Where in the hell had that question come from?

"I'm not letting anyone else cover it, that's for damn sure." She set her wine back on the table and rose an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Just curious." Because I want it done right. I want her to be tossed into Azkaban and never let out. "Because I despise her, and I will be reading about it every day it is reported upon, and your writing style is comfortable to my brain."

Lavender blinked at him. "That is, quite possibly, the oddest compliment I've ever received in my, albeit short, journalism career." She smiled. "But, thank you, I suppose." She took another sip of her wine. "I don't trust anyone else with that story, not after what Ticky did. Yes, it did net me an article with Witch Weekly because of his stupidity, but it was uncalled for and ridiculous." She frowned, looking down at her wine glass. "People like him make me angry. Yes, I write gossip and unfounded stories sometimes, but it's the pay the bills, and they're never hurtful." I did enough of that in school. "It's one thing to be a rumor monger who's only out for sensationalism. It's another thing to be a journalist. You can't compromise on the important stories. It's in print. It stays with you, follows you. It's there forever. You have to be damn sure you're going to be proud of what you wrote years down the road, because it's still going to be there, even when your body is dust and your name is the only thing left."

She laughed nervously. "Sorry. That rant was brought to you by Ticky Boxman, bloody thorn in my professional side." She snorted. "And probably that stew. I think my body is grumpy I actually ate it and instead of actual vomit, I've come down with word vomit." She shook her head. She needed to shut up. Just because he doesn't talk much, that doesn't mean you need to fill in the gaps with your inane dribble! Man up, Lavender.

Justin had just listened to all of that with a bland expression. Word vomit, indeed. It was a bit like Hannah when she got nervous - only more forceful. He could appreciate trying to pay the bills. He was very fortunate not to have many. His family's money would take care of his mother's stay in Bath should she live to be as old as Dumbledore had been. Especially with the way Justin had invested most of it. Brown didn't honestly think that article on Longbottom was harmless though, did she?

"Please don't tell me you think that article about Neville Longbottom isn't harmful? It might harm Neville. He's a healer. Who'd want to go to a healer that hurts people as a hobby? His work could suffer. And heaven help him if his Gran reads that article and believes it. Though, knowing Augusta Longbottom, she'd be proud, so that actually might not be making my point."

Lavender rolled her eyes and sat back on her side of the booth, crossing her arms over her chest. "If anyone actually believes that article, they'd need to see Neville for head problems in the first place. The only people that read Witch Weekly, besides you apparently, are old bitties and bored housewitches. They'd actually probably specifically request him to get a gander at those arms of his."

She shook her head. "If I thought it'd actually harm Neville, I wouldn't have written it."

 

You certain? "You'd be amazed at what some people will believe just because it is written down, and I read lots of things. Let's hope you're right though. I really don't think you'd like that on your conscience." Then he smiled a bit more and added, jokingly of course, "Provided you actually have one."

Lavender rose an eyebrow. "Did that hurt?"

"What?"

"The joke. Did it hurt? I wasn't sure if you had a sense of humor. Perhaps my conscience and your sense of humor took a holiday together."

 

Justin actually snorted with laughter. It was an odd sound to him. He probably had not laughed since the last time he and Ernie went drinking together to commiserate their best girlie mate being with Blaise effing Zabini. Her sense of humor though? Her quick wit? She had the personality of most of his coworkers. If she wasn't a people person, she likely would have made a very good Unspeakable. Not that he would ever tell her such a thing.

 

"Think they went to Brighton? I hear it's nice. Or maybe further abroad? Tuscany? Rome? Venice? No, no. They went to India after enlightenment. I hear they're in a hotel in Delhi."

Lavender was impressed. Laughter sounded a little rusty coming from him, but she couldn't help but feel like she's accomplished something few probably could. "I'm sure they went as far away as they could."

 

"Likely," Justin said quietly. He had this insane urge to ask her questions like she had asked him, but that was crazy. He didn't ask people questions. Not usually. "What's your favorite food?" Stop it, Finch-Fletchley. Don't.

She cocked her head to the side and raised her eyebrows at him. "Spinach." She wasn't quite sure what to make of this turn of events. Even from their two meetings, Lavender had gathered that he didn't have the best social training. She grinned at him, leaning forward on the table. She knew if she cracked a joke right now, it was quite possible she'd embarrass him and he'd close up.

 

"Spinach?" Justin made a face. "Seriously? That's pretty unexpected and gross." He raised a brow. "Unless you're lying."

Lavender just grinned at him.

 

"Why would you lie about that," Justin asked in a slightly annoyed tone. "There's not a reason to. So I suppose you never shower and have sexual fantasies of Snape as well then?"

"Perhaps I don't trust you, Mr. Finch-Fletchley. Didn't you call me the enemy the last time we met?" She smiled and grabbed for the glass of wine in front of her, finishing it off. "It also wasn't a very difficult question. Easy to lie about."

 

Justin's brow furrowed. So harder questions were more difficult to lie to? Interesting. "Were you the one who can up with the anagram for the reporter's name for the Witch Weekly article?"

"I was." She set the empty glass down. She usually hated answering questions about herself, as she was more suited to asking the questions, but she actually had the feeling this didn't happen very often. She wasn't going to complain.

 

"Both the initials were the same and the letters not relocated enough. I just glanced at it and figured it out. If you go the anagram route, you should try something like... Dawn Bornrevel or Raven Bornlewd... Wren Van Bolder... or you could be ironic and go with Nonverbal Drew."

Lavender grinned at him, but didn't say anything. He'd thought of better anagrams for her article. She didn't rightly know what to think about that fact.

 

"Or you could go the thesaurus route and go with Lilac Bronze."

 

She gave him this look.

 

"Your names are both colors... these are the same colors only..."

Lavender laughed. She hadn't meant to, but she couldn't help it. "Gosh, nothing gets by you, now does it?" She didn't know how long they'd been sitting here, but most of the people in the Leaky had either gone home, or were well on their way to being thoroughly sloshed.

 

Not usually, no. Justin liked details. He liked to separate and categorize them. He pulled the Crabbe file back out and had it in his lap. He put his elbow on the table and his forehead on his palm and read, studied, tried to work the problem. He needed to solve this because of Susan. He knew having this out in front of a reporter was risky, but Justin had it in his lap. She didn't know what he was reading.

Lavender leaned forward on the table, trying to spy what he had in his lap. She laughed to herself when she realized what it looked like she was doing. She shook her head. This was ridiculous. She'd imposed on him again, and now he was reading. It obvious he wanted to continue what he'd been doing before she'd plunked herself down at his table. "Right. I had my dinner, if what I ate could be considered edible, so I should be going now."

 

"If you must," Justin said. "I'm sure I'll run into you again. I'm in here as much as you are. I'll try to refrain from making faces when you sit down with me next time."

 

Suddenly something occurred to Justin. He looked at her sharply.

 

"Do you live far? Can you apparate inside?"

Lavender paused as she pulled her hair over the collar of her coat. "No. I have wards in place. The whole apartment complex has them on it. I apparate down the street from home." She looked down, snapping the buttons. It was cold outside and she didn't want to catch anything. "Why do you ask?" She tried not to think about the fact that he'd already resigned himself to another dinner with her. Or assumed that she'd be the one to sit down with him first. Just for that, she'd see that she wasn't.

 

Justin started gathering his things, thinking of Crabbe being out there and what had happened to Susan. "Because I'm walking you to your door then. It's late, and too many bad things happen to women alone. Recently too."

She gave him a face as he tried stuffing everything back into his bag quickly. "I don't need an escort to my door, Mr. Finch-Fletchley, but I appreciate the concern."

 

"Of course you don't. Doesn't mean it's not happening," Justin snapped. Of course she's fiercely independent. "Just humor me, Brown, and be surprised that there are still gentlemen left in the world, however surly they can be."

Lavender laughed. "Telling a girl you're seeing her home isn't gentlemanly behavior. Asking would be gentlemanly." She shook her head, laying down enough coins to cover her meal. "Besides, I can't humor someone who's sense of humor is hiding in India with my conscience."

 

Justin sighed. Loudly. She was more trouble than he should have to deal with. "Fine. May I please see you to your door for my peace of mind, Brown?"

 

It was said through his teeth because Justin got annoyed when he could not be certain of things. When he could not compartmentalize and or list, it was not comforting. Once he knew where she lived, he would not have to go through this again. He could just follow at a safe distance and make sure she arrived with her being none the wiser.

"Well, since you asked so nicely, I suppose I have to acquiesce to your request." She grabbed her bag off the booth and slung it over her shoulder. "If only for your peace of mind." She turned, waving to Tom, who was wiping down the bar and looking at the two of them with an amused expression on his face. He nodded in farewell as she pushed open the heavy door to the pub.

 

"Tell me where you will be apparating to," Justin asked.

 

"You don't want to side-along?"

 

And give up my control there? Um no. "No."

Lavender sighed. "You know, for offering up your gentlemanly services, you sure are making this difficult on me." She pushed a piece of hair out of her eyes and looked up at the sky, trying to remember the directions for someone coming to her flat. She'd never really thought she'd need to give them to anyone. "Um... Dammit all! I am horrible with directions. It's near Kent? By Dover? It's on a street called Middlebury. Do you recognize it?"

 

Justin nodded. "Stay where you are until I am there."

 

Lavender rolled her eyes and disapparated. Justin followed closely. When he arrived, she'd already started walking down the street, forcing him to jog to catch up with her.

 

"What part of stay where you are until I am there is so difficult to understand, Brown? You're worse than Hannah or Susan."

"Yes, well, I'm a Gryffindor. We love to throw ourselves into imaginary danger. Oh, is that a shadow? Help me, Mr. Finch-Fletchley! There's a shadow!" Lavender laughed, shaking her head when it echoed off the brick buildings around them. She was going to wake someone up. She'd never been that quiet. However, she'd also never had someone over to her flat. Her neighbors probably thought she was a hermit, as often as she just stayed in, reading or researching.

Justin just glared at her. He really did need to get out more. Susan was right. He was used to Hufflepuffs. Hannah and Susan could both be so skittish. They both just had that thing about them. You wanted to wrap them up and shield them from the world. Lavender he sort of wanted to throttle right now. He followed her in silence to her flat. Well, he knew where she was now and could add it to his nightly rounds.

Lavender stopped on her stoop, turning to look down at Justin as she climbed onto the first step. "Alright. Nothing hurt me. This imagined bogeyman missed the appointment to maim and mangle me, so I thank you for your gentlemanly services." She bowed a bit, her bag slipping off her shoulder. She cursed loudly as the contents spilled all over the concrete steps. She bent, shaking her head as she tried gathering everything.

 

Justin dropped instantly and began helping her gather her things. "How do you fit this much shit in that bag?"

She looked up at him with a confused look on her face. "I'm a witch?" When he looked up at her, she cocked her head to the side. Was he kidding? He'd never done an expanding charm before?
 

"Even with all this stuff shrunk or something, it'd still be heavy. You put a lightening charm on it too? Or do you just deal with having a bad back?"

She grabbed the bag from his hands once everything had been placed back inside. "I'm a girl. We always have bad backs. It's either lots of cleavage, or an economy sized bag, but one way or another, we get bad backs." She pulled her wand out of her pocket and undid the wards. "Thank you for the help, protection, and dinner company, Mr. Finch-Fletchley. It's always amusing, to say the least." She turned, undoing the wards and stepping into the front hallway with the postboxes for all the residents. She smiled at him before closing the door, rolling her eyes once he was out of sight. Protection, indeed.

 

Justin stood there staring at the closed door for several minutes. Then he smiled slightly and started heading home. 

{SUMMARY} Justin and Lavender run into one another again. It's not any less stilted or awkward.