Justin was consumed. Crabbe had shown himself on Friday then disappeared like a fart in the breeze. It was irritating. Where in the hell was he? Damned Crabbe was not this smart. Justin sat at the bar and pulled at his hair a bit. He was distracted, and that was never a good thing.

"Tom, put this up, yeah?"

Tom looked at the wanted flyer. He nodded and directed it to a bare space on the wall. "Not sitting with your lady friend then? Little Lavvie looks awfully lonely."

Justin looked over his shoulder and swore. Loudly. Her hair was blonde. Now she looked like Hogwarts. It worked though. Impressive that she could adapt to different coloring so easily. Granted, this was closer to what was natural, but the dark brown had worked. Justin snorted to himself. The Dark Brown. Sounded like a villain in an epic story. Or a disturbing digestive issue. 

"I'm going to tell her you called her that, Tom." Justin smirked. "Got any spinach?"

"Greens. Not cooked."

"Let's have them, and a pint of fruit ale."

Tom grinned. "Anything else, Justin the Just?"

"Undecided."

Tom plunked the required items on the bar. Justin took them. He slid the bowl of uncooked greens on the table to Lavender then sat down across from her.

"Might want to hex Tom, Brown."

"Usually do, Mr. Finch-Fletchley," she said without looking up from her papers. Apparently she was a nosy woman, or so Tom had told her on her last visit. Of course, coming from Tom, she'd taken it with a grain of salt. Hells yes, she was nosy. It was in her nature. That's why she was a reporter. However, this did not mean she couldn't curb that impulse and sit quietly. She brought a finger to her mouth, licked the tip of it, and proceeded to turn the page of her notes.

Justin tilted his head to the side and watched. Either she was incredibly involved with what she was doing, or she was being difficult. Could be either. Justin pulled his copy of the Crabbe file out and put it in his lap to read.

"If you'd like the spinach cooked, Blondie, I'm sure I could have it arranged."

Her eyes darted up to look at the bowl of greens in front of her. She rolled her eyes before looking back down at her notes. Prat. "I'm not hungry right now, thank you." She reached for a wine, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a sip. She could understand why people liked flying while playing Quidditch, but the game still didn't call out to her. Yes, the zest and dedication Oliver had shown was engaging, but it was still a sport. Still something Lavender would never understand. She was going to have to work very hard to not have that hesitation cross onto the page.

"Why'd you color your hair?" Bloody fucking shitting hell. Justin could not figure out what was wrong with him. Stick to insane werewolf Death Eaters. Stick to insane werewolf Death Eaters.

Smiling to herself, Lavender wanted nothing more than to launch into conversation, but she could hold out. She could, Tom be damned. "Felt like it." She scratched her quill along the parchment in front of her after setting her wine glass down, not really paying attention to what she was writing. She was making him blurt out things. The night was looking up.

Justin scowled and looked down. She felt like it? Felt like it?  "You sure you haven't pissed someone off, and you're changing your look to throw them off."

Lavender looked up at Justin then, her eyebrow slowly raising. Was he serious? "Are you serious? Who actually does things like that?"

Justin raised a brow. Was she serious? People did that all the time. "Lots of people. It's a common first tactic when one wants to blend more or disappear a bit."

"Well, I neither want to blend nor disappear. It was done for fun and adventure. You know how us Gryffindors need it to survive."

She looked back down at her notes, shaking her head slightly. She hadn't been aware something as simple as changing her hair color would not only make him inquisitive, but also have him using nicknames. Blondie? Who had ever used that outside of a bad daytime crime drama on the wireless? The fact that he'd sat down, and was running the conversation was already a win, in her mind. Anything else was just icing on the proverbial pumpkin pastille.

"Well, no," Justin said, considering. "Blondes get noticed more than brunettes. Now whether they have more fun is anyone's guess. If you really wanted notice, you should have gone with red. Typically gingers are noticed in a crowd." Hence there being no gingers in the Unspeakables. In fact, most of them had no hair or various shades of brown hair.

"Interesting," Lavender said distractedly, not looking up at him. Inwardly, she was snorting at him. Who knew not talking to an Unspeakable made them speak to you? Odd and backward.

Justin stopped talking then. Obviously she was elsewhere and he was bothering her. He finished his ale in silence. Justin was cursing himself in his head. This was why he should not have been in Hufflepuff. He was not good at making friends. At all. Once he was finished with his drink he started to get up to leave.

"Mr. Finch-Fletchley," Lavender started, looking up at him. "Did anyone ever tell you that you never shut up?"

"No," Justin said blandly.

She was giving him this look. Was he supposed to keep talking? Justin was unsure. He didn't do well with people.

Lavender ran her hands over the notes in front of her and took in a deep breath. "Because, since you've sat down, you've done nothing but chat. Am I to believe this is normal for you? And, if I'm not, what brings on this sudden verbal issuance?" Maybe she was being forward... but that's who she was. Maybe she had taken this game of hers too far, but she tended to do that too.

"I bothered you. I do apologize," Justin said.

He nodded curtly and moved to another table. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Lavender groaned as she grabbed her things. She was a stupid, insipid little girl who liked to push people. It was clear she had pushed too hard with him. "Stupid, temperamental, Hufflepuffs," she mumbled under her breath. Situating herself across from him, she shook her head.

"You've bothered me no more than I've bothered you before. I was trying to not be nosy, and as it's clear it's the only thing I'm good at, I'll not try it again. I'm nosy. I ask questions. I pry. It can't be helped. This will make you uncomfortable, but if we're going to continue to be dining partners, I don't want to hear that I was nosy. Even though I am. I tried being quiet, and it didn't work." Finally settled, she trumpeted a bit of air towards her forehead, blowing some hair out of her eyes. "So there we are. I'm nosy, I dyed my hair because I wanted a change, and I actually don't like spinach." She smiled at him. "At all."

Justin grinned at her. "I happen to like your noise most of the time."

"Godric, keep throwing out compliments like that and a girl won't know what to do with themselves." She leaned forward on the table, elbows pressing into the wood. "Honest. Is it just noise? I've been told I speak incessantly and it can get rather annoying. I'm of the opinion that every once in a while, not often mind you, but every once in a while, I happen to spew forth a nugget of pure comedic or scholarly gold."

"I would concur with your opinion. Every once in a great while, you're a bit clever."

This was unprecedented. He was teasing someone who was not Hannah, Ernie, or Susan.

"I guess that's all I can ask for," she said, grabbing for her glass of wine and sitting back in her chair. She sighed. "You're not going to let that spinach go to waste, are you? I believe, since you ordered it, you're required to eat it. Tom?" She looked over her shoulder in the direction of the bar. "Are you going to let Justin allow this spinach go to waste? Apparently he got it for me.

"Everyone knows you hate spinach, Lav," was the bartender's response.

Lavender turned back to Justin with a wide grin.

Justin raised an eyebrow. He hated spinach, but he never gave anyone the satisfaction. He smiled with fake sweetness and began putting the leaves in his mouth. Not roughage, not roughage. It will digest. Don't think about it.

"Might I have another ale please?"

"I'd like to see you swallow first." She smiled over her shoulder at Tom, knowing that he would have the ale at the ready. She cocked her head to the side, glad she didn't have to pretend to be demure and reserved. She wasn't. She liked pushing people, perhaps a little too much, and it was clear from the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that this was pushing him for some reason. Maybe she wasn't the only one that disliked spinach. She was impressed that he would go through and eat it anyway. She'd never do it.

Justin swallowed. Reluctantly.

Tom was grinning as he set the ale before Justin. Justin resisted the urge to gulp it down. He sipped almost demurely.

"Now that's a bit of a shock. Justin doesn't eat leaves."

Leaves. Nooooo. He could feel his stomach churning just thinking about how long it would take them to get from his body, the disgusting things.

Lavender rose an eyebrow. "Leaves? You don't eat leaves?" Her eyes widened once quickly before she leaned forward. "I'm not quite sure where to file that information. An Unspeakable brought low by leaves?"

He was back to wanting to throttle her.

"Stop saying leaves, or I'll hex you."

Tom started snickering and left them.

"They don't digest well. I try to avoid things like that."

"Like what? Green things?" Lavender was having so much fun. He looked like he was going to vomit. A small part of her felt guilty at challenging him to eat the things, but another part of had to wonder why he thought leaves were so... abhorrent. The fact that he was having problems with the little leafy green things was amusing. "You don't eat things that are green?"

"Hullo... pickles. I don't eat roughage. Non-digestibles. Once you chew something it ought to stay chewed. It's not right.

Lavender held up her hands. "Wow. Alright. Stop. Please. I don't need to hear about-" She shook her head, reaching for her wine and taking a sip, emptying the glass and setting it down with a grimace. "Gods, do you talk to all girls like that, or should I consider myself special?" She leaned back in her chair, looking towards the bar. Nancy nodded, knowing that she needed another glass of wine.

Justin titled his head to the side. "Well, I do to Hannah, but she gets irritated. If you'd rather I didn't, say, but I got the feeling you did not mind more crass aspects in conversation. Am I incorrect in my opinion?"

Was he serious? "There's a difference between being crass and talking out of your arse, and being crass and talking about things that come out of your arse. Talking about my knickers? One thing. Talking about things that happen in my knickers? Different." She looked thoughtful for a second. "Usually. Sometimes." Shaking her head, she was distracted when Nancy brought her glass of wine. "Thanks."

"You make in your knickers? Eww. I don't think I needed to know that. Ever," Justin had a look of horror on his face, he was sure of it. "Right. Not talking about it. What happens in Brown's knickers, stays in Brown's knickers. No pun intended.

Lavender glared. He was making fun of her. "Leaves."

His stomach gurgled. It would serve her right if he threw up on the table.

"Good night, Brown."

Justin tossed down money and tried not to run outside. He moved swiftly into the shadows next to the Leaky and emptied the leaves from his belly into a rubbish bin. Justin braced an arm against the bricks and breathed heavily for a moment.

Lavender watched the door swing shut behind Justin before looking at Tom.

"Did he-"

"Probably."

"Because I-"

"Most likely."

Letting out a rather unladylike growl, Lavender stood. "Honestly!" She yanked her cloak from where she'd placed it and stuffed her notes and quill into her bag. "I say one word and the man tosses. Bloody Unspeakables who can't hold their leaves," she grumbled. She glared at Tom once, who smirked in return, before making her way after Justin.

Once outside, she looked both directions, and decided if she was going to vomit, she'd want to do it in the dark. She made her way over toward the little alley beside the Leaky, spotting Justin bent over a rubbish bin. "Do you need a healer?"

"No," he snapped.

Don't take this out on her, mate. It isn't her fault you worked yourself into a frenzy over the leaves. LEAVES! Justin groaned and dry heaved a bit. He hated to throw up. Hated it. It was not stoically rock-like. Justin was used to being the laconic anchor. He certainly didn't feel very anchored just now. All because he had to be the showoff and eat the... you know.

His brow was all sweaty. His knees wanted to knock together. He needed to control this better. Brown was the type to pounce on a weakness like this. He hoped she would not, but it would not wholly shock him.

"Well, you obviously need something." She dropped her bag on the ground, grimacing when she heard it splash into something. If my notes are ruined because of this... She pulled a glove from her pocket, from a pair her mother had given her for Christmas, transfigured it into a wash cloth and used her wand to wet it. Cooling it, she put a hand on the small of his back and pressed it against his forehead. "Better? Do you want something to drink?"

Though if she wanted to shock him, she'd managed it this way.

Justin was staring. Oddly. It was likely disturbing. He knew this. He was just surprised, and it had been so long since he'd had a surprise that was not a nasty shock that he did not know what to do with it. She had asked him a question. Two actually.

"Yes, and no. Thank you."

"Are you sure? Water might get the taste out of your mouth." Looking over her shoulder, she flicked her wand at her bag, summoning the bottle of water that was inside. "It's half-empty, and there's lipstick on the rim, but at least it'll help. I've some mints too, if you'd like."

Justin took the bottle with a confused look on his face. No one had even tried to take care of him in years. He was completely out of his depth here.

"Thank... thank you, Brown. Appreciate it."

"Well, as I'm the reason you're throwing up in darkened alleys, it's the least I can do. Besides, as we're supposed to be afraid of darkened alleys, I can't have you throwing up and vulnerable when I was the one who caused it. I'd feel guilty. Not that I don't already. But you being killed? Big guilt." She was rambling and staring at brick just over his head. She wasn't good with vomit.

Now Justin was really confused.

"You're supposed to be wary of darkened alleys. Me? I spend a great deal of time in the dark. Now, did you want to go back inside, or were you going to let me follow you home and watch until you're inside?"

Lavender rose an eyebrow. Follow her home? Like a lost puppy? "You're heaving in an alley, and you still think you're able to protect me from the big bad werewolf? You Unspeakables really do think you're invincible."

Think? He was pretty sure he could. "Don't get me all excited here. I'd love nothing better than for Crabbe to show his ugly face. Then I could hex it off, so what will it be, Miss Brown?

She frowned. It was perfectly acceptable for him to seek out danger, but for her, walking home was a dangerous act. She wasn't rightly sure if she should be offended or not. However, she was the reason he was throwing up in an alley. She couldn't really hold it against him. Not right now.

"Escort me home, Mr. Finch-Fletchley because Merlin knows I can't make the trip without you."

"Sure you can," Justin said. "I just like knowing for certain that you did, is all."

She held out an arm, rolling her eyes. "Yes, who else would bother you and have you vomiting in alleyways if I were gone? Come on. I'll apparate us. You're in no condition."

Justin bristled. He did not like this idea, but he also did not think he could protest without offending her further. He was not exactly certain why he should care if he offended her or not, but he did. Justin scowled and let out a very loud sigh before moving close to her.

Lavender reached down and grabbed her bag, throwing it over her shoulder before wrapping a hand around his upper arm. Smirking appreciatively at how strong the muscle felt under her fingers, she waved her wand, apparating them to an alley down the street from her flat. He stumbled a bit as they appeared, and she turned, putting both hands on his shoulders to steady him. "Alright. Please don't throw up on me. Sorry. I suppose I could have tried to make that smoother." She winced. "Sorry."

He was staring. For an unnaturally long time. She still had her hands on his shoulders to steady him even though he was no longer wavering. Justin was confused. Had he gone and made friends with Brown without noticing? Susan would be so proud.

"If I have to vomit again, Miss Brown, not only will I warn you, but I will actually try to aim away from you."

"Wow. My heart beats aflutter. Can you walk?" At his nod, she turned, keeping a hand on his arm. "So, the word-we-shall-never-speak-again makes you vomit. Are there any other words or food groups that will set you off that I should know about in advance? As all our meetings involve food, it'd be good to know what's been taken off the table. Pun intended."

"Corn and lettuce." Justin glared. "And yes, I can walk. I threw up. I didn't have heart failure."

"Ah. My mistake then." She smiled as they walked down the street. "Corn and lettuce. I don't think the Leaky has either, so we're set there, as that seems to be our area. And, as those words don't routinely enter into conversation, we should be alright." She looked over at him, smirking. "I think I can take it from here if you'd like to go home and recover."

Justin just nodded.

"For the record it was the combination of the word and the word having just been ingested into my body. Normally the word has no effect on me." Then he smiled his reserved-for-Hannah-or-Susan-smile smile. Bloody hell, I've gone and made friends with a reporter. This is bad.

"Mmm-hmm. I'm sure." She said, smirking as she stepped in front of him, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "Thank you, again, for the escort. I'm sure I would have fallen into nefarious hands with devious plans for my body otherwise."

Justin blinked. He looked down at her and tilted his head to the side. This was baffling.

"Night then, Brown," he said then gave her shoulder a very awkward pat before stepping away.

When he turned his back, Lavender looked down at where he'd patted her arm. She looked up at his retreating back, an incredulous look on her face. Taking a deep breath, she turned, shaking her head and made her way towards her flat. Three or more meetings, and she still had no idea how the boy worked. He was a challenge, to be sure, and if anything were true, it was that Lavender loved a challenge.