The Betting Table

Keith sipped butterbeer with a small smile on his face. He didn't normally like these kinds of things, but over the summer he had learned that parties were in fact a valuable time.

People behaved oddly at parties. Maybe it was that everyone was all dressed up, or maybe it was the presence of all the alcohol, or the feeling of letting loose that the partying atmosphere seemed to encourage. Keith didn't know and he didn't really care - he was always the type to accept things without investigation. But he had learned that parties made people behave differently. They were more likely to make mistakes, to do stupid, passionate things, to explode. Parties were like a big box of fireworks, with all the people and their little issues representing flames that threatened to send everything to hell if they got out of control.

Keith loved it.

And so he tolerated the parties, even the ridiculous dress code. He wore a casual suit that he personally considered badass - a black jacket on a black shirt, with a white tie that hung loosely around his neck. He had even worn the Watch for this occasion; the headaches were worth the impression it made, a giant silver watch sitting on his relatively small wrist.

All that was worth it , especially today. Because Keith had a plan.

He pulled a few poker chips out of his pocket, twirling them idly in his hands. He waited until someone passed before saying causally: "Wanna place a bet?"

Emmett found himself in the school he had dropped out from, feeling rather out of place with his frizzy hair and thrift store clothes. Some slacks, a button down shirt and vest and he was good to go, but he still felt awkward. In his pocket was a pen and pad of paper in case he needed notes for an article, but he was doing this because he knew it was important to not get forgotten. Maybe someone would talk to him about the war, and he could offer his opinions.

He pushed his sleeves to the elbows and walked around for awhile, simply browsing when he suddenly heard a voice reach his ears. He turned and saw a younger boy sitting there, shuffling poker chips and smiling at him. Emmett was not a gambler, but he was curious. He paused, turning to full address the boy. "And what would I be betting on?" he asked in his quiet voice.

Keith grinned. He hadn't seen this kid around before, but maybe that was for the better. Not only was he more likely to lose, he wouldn't know Keith as well, and wouldn't cause as many problems down the road if something went wrong.

"It's pretty simple," Keith said, sliding a poker chip across the table towards the older boy. "You bet one something that's going to happen tonight. Anything." His grin widened, and he pointed towards the front of the room towards the DJ. "For example, you could bet that Marki up there is going to make an idiot of herself and not care. I wouldn't take that bet, because I'd lose, but things along the same vein are fair game," Keith said. "Like, say, I'm personally betting on a certain Elijah Krum to get smacked by somebody - anybody - before the dance is over. Most likely is Chase, but there's no shortage of women who would leap at the chance. So what do you say mister? Interested in taking a bet? Nothing's too large or too small."

Emmett felt his mouth twitch just ever so slightly, though he did not smile. Emmett rarely found reason to smile, but he did think the concept of this table was rather amusing. He would have to include it if he did on piece on the success- or failure- of the Yule Ball. Not exactly hard hitting news, but he did have an article quota that he needed to field.

He reached up and rubbed his chin, saying, "Interesting. Clever actually." He dropped his hands into his pockets and fished around for some money, withdrawing three knuts. Pitiful. But hey, he did not need to waste more money than he had to. "Alright. I'll bet that the minister arrives and shows off his lovely, outdated dance moves." He allowed a tiny smile.

Keith smirked. "Huh. A safe bet, but it's better than nothing," he said, grabbing the poker chip and tapping each of the kunts once. The words Six Knuts appeared on the poker chip, and Keith handed it back to the guy. "There. Keep that on you and come back at the end of the night if you think you've won. But first -" he said, "I need your name. And I need you to define outdated."

Emmett carefully pocketed the poker chip and then added, "Oh something from the disco era or something that was never in style... like the cabbage patch. Or any dances that resemble muggle appliances- the sprinkler, lawnmower, that sort." He could not help the twitch of the corner of his mouth again that indicated his amusement.

"I'm Emmett. Emmett Fisher." He nodded at him and then, after pausing for a moment, said, "And could I get your name?" He was curious to know who would have thought of such a clever, thrifty idea. And so young... He would not mind mentioning the boy in his Yule Ball piece.

Keith nodded, scribbling Emmet's name onto a pad of paper alongside the words minister: outdated dancing (disco/muggle appliances). He put the pad of paper in his jacket pocket (something he had always wanted to do) and pocketed the knuts. "I'm Keith Nicholas. Second year. Haven't seen you around the school much, you a Durmstrang or Beaxbatons kid? You don't look foreign."

Emmett watched as he pulled out a notepad- which again twitched his mouth in amusement, seeing as he had his own, which was very similar, stowed away in the pocket of his slacks- and slipped the knuts in his pocket and then tucked the notepad out of sight after he scrawled down the details of the bet. Emmett scratched his chin casually.

The boy introduced himself as Keith Nicholas, which Emmett saved to memory. Second year... he was young. “Second year and already working the crowd.” Emmett nodded to him. “You wouldn't have seen me around. I dropped out of my sixth year... That was last year. First time up to the school since then.”

Oooooh it was that delicious singer from the Leaky Cauldron. Angelique remembered his songs had all been about giving peace a chance and pretending there was no heaven. She was no critic but she remembered he could hold a tune and he'd not paid her enough attention last time.

She wondered if he was here as part of the band or somesuch. That would be a feather in his cap, getting a Hogwarts gig. She was fairly sure that was what musical types called it.

"Hello again," she smiled as she stepped up too close behind him.

Emmett felt someone getting close to him, getting much to close and barreling into his comfort zone. For someone who preached free love and loving the human race, he was not used to people getting so cozy with him, seeing as most held him out at arm's length. He scooted forward and turned around, resting a hand on the table behind him.

He squinted at the girl and realized it was the girl from the Leaky Cauldron, though he could not remember her name, if she had even given him one. "Oh, hello." He nodded at her, keeping his straight face that usually did not change. Amusement equated to a mouth twitch. Anything negative was a furrowed brow. There was his emotional depth. "Nice to see you again."