The pub was crowded with the lunch rush, so it took a moment for a waitress to take her order. Getting the old stand-by of fish and chips with a butterbeer, Angie settled down to wait for her co-conspirator, feeling a momentary glow at having enough money to buy her meal and not be concerned about what she wouldn't be getting later because of it. Steady employment had it's advantages and Angelina was all about making full use of them. Maybe if she saved she could finish decorating her flat; or better yet: get a new one!

Grinning absently at the thought, she scanned the pub for Greengrass, her unlikely ally. Angelina didn't know much about the other woman except that she was a couple years younger than Angie, was a Slytherin, not very social, and was much more brilliant at potions than Angie could ever dream of being. Not having much experience with that type, Angelina was curious to find out what kind of mischief they could get into together. Or if they could do anything together at all. Angelina willingly admitted to being just as biased against Slytherin in her Hogwarts years as any other Gryffindor, but she liked to think that she was a bit more open-minded now. Hopefully, Greengrass would be too. Try anything once, yeah? That was Angelina's motto in life.

Daphne sauntered into the establishment a few minutes late, a thin cloud of smoke wafting behind her. She waved at the barkeep as she entered, and the knowledge that an ice-cold glass of pumpkin juice would soon be before her cheered her immensely. Glancing around, she noticed a few less-than-honorables in dark corners, casual clients of hers, as well as a small number of witches and wizards she didn't recognize. She finally located Angelina in a shabby booth and headed over. She wondered what to expect from the girl. She hadn't had much interaction with the other Houses in school. Not so much because of House prejudice, but because she simply wasn't a sociable person. And while she didn't necessarily dislike Gryffindors and more than Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws, she naturally believed that Slytherins were superior. But she would try not to hold that against her new coworker. After all, nobody's perfect.

She approached the booth casually and slid across from the other girl, stubbing out her fag on the end of the table. The barkeep harrumphed at her, rolling his eyes, and sloshed a large mug of frothy cold juice in front of her. She winked at him, causing him to blush and stumble off. He was an odd-looking fellow, but pleasant enough. She just enjoyed rattling his cage a bit.

"So," she grunted. "What do you have in mind?" At Angelina's patiently blank stare, she shrugged. "Not much for chit-chat. Sorry." Rolling her eyes, she tried again. "How was your day, dear." She smirked at her own sarcasm and lit another cigarette.

"Lovely, sweetling. And yours?" Angelina replied with a grin, amused by Daphne's antics. She inhaled the scent of Daphne's fag longingly, resisting the tobacco's siren call. She'd quit a year ago and still wanted to suck the smoke from the lungs of every smoker that passed. Other than that particular quirk, she didn't see any reason so far why they couldn't get along. It may take a bit of getting used to not being the bluntest person in the room, though.

"And I've no bloody idea what we could to do him. I did think that the Hogsmeade festival on All Hallows would be a good place and time," Angelina suggested in reply to the original question. Her food arrived a moment later. After thanking the waitress and taking a drink of her butterbeer, she continued, "Shops are being encouraged to peddle their wares there, aren't they? Maybe Snape'll want to get the word out about the shop."

Realizing she was ignoring her food to stare at Daphne's fag, Angelina mentally shook herself and grabbed a chip to munch on. Her traitorous mind wished that it was filled with tobacco. "So, any nefarious plots of your own?"

Daphne smirked, turned to the waiting waitress, and ordered herself a simple curry. "Well, and supposing I do... Just how dirty are you prepared to let your hands get? Are you at the start-a-rude-rumor stage, the blackmailing stage, the utter-humiliation stage, the cause-him-physical-discomfort stage, or the frame-him-for-murder-and-let-him-rot-in-Azkaban stage? You'd better let me know now before I get really invested, unintentionally cross a line you've drawn in your mind, and completely squidge you out. I hate it when people give me mad eyes."

"Well, I think Azkaban may be a bit of a stretch but I'm open to anything below that," Angelina answered between bites of her meal. This woman was serious about her revenge, "No actual harm done to his person. Unfortunately, I don't think it would be a fair punishment for being an annoying bastard. Humiliation would be a good place to begin. But how do you humiliate a man that doesn't give a shite about what the people around him think?"

Angelina mulled over the question as she ate. You'd think she'd be better at plotting pranks with all the time she'd spent with the twins. It was a hit-or-miss process with her, sometimes she just knew what to do while others it took her awhile to formulate a plan. Her attention was beginning to stray back to the trail of cigarette smoke coming from Daphne's direction when inspiration struck.

"His potions!" she exclaimed waving half a chip around excitedly. "What if we tampered with his potions stock for the evening?"

Daphne grinned, mischief alight in her eyes. "Oh, he'd be so...irritated. Aa-aand if we market them at the festival, depending on how 'well' they're received, we may actually be able to inspire something akin to embarrassment in him. He'll be furious." She ignored the waitress who brought over her steaming bowl of curry, admiration faint behind her words. "Not bad, little lion. Not bad at all."

Digging into the delicious dish before her, Daphne contemplated the possibilities. "So, what kind of things did you have in mind? Quick-run contagions, weak love mixtures, hallucinogenics...?"

"All three would be brill," Angelina was nearly bouncing with excitement, the only thing keeping her from actually doing so was the fact that she would look like an idiot. "Would you be willing to brew them? I'm bollocks at it so I'd be no help. I have a friend that would be glad to help, if you'd rather split the work."

She'd rather not ask Fred for the help but if she had to she would. Angelina wanted to be able to rub in her success where he had failed so many times before. It could be considered sadistic but it was so much fun.

Daphne considered the offer. "I can manage the brewing myself, but... If you have a friend with a few interesting ideas, I certainly wouldn't object to the help. Why? Did you have someone in mind?"

"Well," Angelina considered her options for a moment, "Fred Weasley is always up for this kind of thing, and he's disturbingly brilliant at it. I may pester him for ideas."

Finishing off her lunch with a flourish, Angelina hailed their waitress again to get her bill, "I'm sorry to rush out on you, but I have some errands that need running practically all over London. We'll talk again to hash out the details? Or owl me?"

Daphne scowled slightly as Angelina rushed off. A Weasley. She shuddered slightly at the thought. Weasleys were always trouble. Resigning herself to the idea, she quietly finished her lunch before heading back to the shop.

{SUMMARY: Angelina and Daphne meet for lunch... and revenge.}