Change of Scenery

Darkness was never something that upset Alana, rather, it was something that she embraced. There was nothing more gratifying than pewter coloured clouds rolling into one another as they filled the horizon. The air was thick and cool, but too warm for any snow. It was sure to rain soon, and when it did, it wouldn't be pretty. This would lead to one of two things: either the Leaky Cauldron was going to be bare, or filled with drunken witches and wizards looking for shelter from the coming weather. Lana prayed that it would be the first of the two. If the place was busy, she would simply find another place to go, as crowds were something that greatly turned her off. The Cauldron promised mammoth-sized firewhiskeys and comfy lounge areas for Alana to avoid human interaction as much as possible.

The emptiness of the streets concerned Lana for she was starting to believe that the pub would indeed be very busy, and she seriously contemplated turning around. Then again, her flask was empty and she was in serious need of something good to drink, and that was the only thing that kept her going. The door creaked loudly as she stepped inside, and the scent of it's aged wood filled her nostrils. She peered around the room, it was rather quiet inside, with only a few people scattered around sharing drinks and food, though most people sat alone with a book or with a drink in their hands and penseive looks on their ugly faces. This filled Lana with happiness: there was hardly anybody there, and she recognized no one, not even the young lad behind the bar. Her heels made a loud tapping sound on the wood floors as she approached the bar, causing a few people nearby to glance at her. She simply looked at them with a sour expression, which was enough to make them cower.

"Firewhiskey for me" The bartender stood in his place for a moment, expecting a 'please' or something of the sort, but Alana paid no more attention to him, but rather took a seat on the creaky barstool in the furthest corner of the bar. She took a moment to fix herself; her chocolate-coloured hair had been blown around in the wind, and her mauve lipstick needed some touching up. She was very fond of herself- she knew how beautiful she was, and never thought of herself as anything short of a goddess. Her eyes were her favorite feature, the way that her eyelashes perfectly framed her baby eyes in such a wispy fashion made her feel empowered. A bat of the eyelashes never failed to make a man swoon. There weren't any good-looking men in the bar, aside from the bartender, but he was far too young for her. The crowd in the room mainly consisted of lonely, drunken, middle-aged wizards and a few couples scattered in the corners.

Lana didn't mind the lack of company, as she would rather enjoy her drink alone. She sat up straight in her seat, and crossed her legs almost seductively. There was something comforting about being openly unpleasant like she: no one would bother her.

While waiting for the Hogwarts term to restart, Vincent had taken temporary residence at the Leaky Cauldron. He could afford to stay somewhere more up-class, of course, but the Leaky Cauldron had a very convenient location. But more than that, the pub and inn was special, because it had been his first entry into the wizarding world – the first entry for any muggleborn and most half-bloods really - and as a result Vincent was rather fond of the drab old place.

Vincent had spent most of the day at Flourish and Blotts, looking up Potions Books. It was nearly evening when Vincent finally retreated to the old pub for a drink. As he entered the main area, a few people turned to look, and then turned away quickly. Anyone who didn’t know him had little reason to talk to Vincent, and anyone who recognized him had a lot of reasons not to. It had been a long time since Vincent had been an active Death Eater and High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, but he was still rather infamous for it. Vincent, who hardly ever indulged in idle conversation anyway, didn’t mind much.

The pub wasn’t very crowded. A few old wizards were playing Gobstones in the middle, there were a few couples and a few drunks, but otherwise the place was rather quiet and empty. There was a woman at the bar who was attracting a lot of looks from men nearby. All dressed up and looking quite beautiful, she looked rather out of place in the drab little inn. Vincent, with a rather gaunt face, and sunken, narrow eyes, would by contrast never be called particularly attractive. There was however, something captivating about him that seemed to draw attention. Perhaps it was the mysterious look and raspy, quiet voice, or the intensive, bright, amber eyes.

Vincent didn't approach her because of her beauty though, but because he thought he recognized her. If memory served him right, he had seen her at a death eater meeting. Sitting neither too close nor too far, Vincent ordered some mead from the bartender and after a brief time, turned slightly towards the woman. “You’re rather overdressed for this place,” Vincent observed, as charismatic (not) as usual. “Have we met before?” he asked. It wasn’t the conversation opener that men often used to start a conversation with a pretty woman at the bar, Vincent was genuinely curious.

It wasn't long before Alana's glass was empty and she was ordering another, she was always a fast drinker, though it took quite a bit to make her really intoxicated. Coming to the Leaky Cauldron, or any bar really, had become a habit for her for a few years now. She wouldn't consider herself an alcoholic, as she could function perfectly fine when she wasn't drinking, she only prefered it because it helped her loosen up. Then again, most addicts cannot admit to their problems, and neither could Lana. The alcohol also helped with the loneliness, though she was alone by choice. Being by herself meant that she had no one else to rely on, no one else to worry about. It is such a hassle to constantly have others on your mind, when the only person that really matters in the world is yourself.

Alana was startled when she heard a husky voice next to her, and even more startled when she turned her head. A man sat a few stools down from her, and was looking in her direction. She wasn't sure if she knew him, though his face was familiar. She didn't care to delve into her memory to find a name to match his face. "I don't believe I know you" She said bluntly as she raised her glass to her lips again. The whiskey burned her throat, and she could feel it reach her stomach.

"I believe that, no matter the circumstances, one should always be dressed wonderfully. You never know whom you may run into." Her voice was low, not necessarily on purpose, but she always kept her voice soft in the right situation. She was feeling rather comfortable, and this man seemed somewhat trustworthy, at least for her time at the pub.

"Lana York, since I'm sure you were wondering. Now, what brings you to such a drab place? You seem classy like me, and I'm sure this isn't the ideal place to be for people such as us." She wasn't normally very talkative, perhaps it was the alcohol, or maybe it was something about this stranger. His eyes were piercing, and she felt as though she were opaque.

Realizing her abnormal behaviour, Alana straightened her back and gently tossed her hair. "Anyways, I think you would know exactly where you knew me from" She stated, hinting at her memorable face and attitude. It was the truth, Alana tended to give lasting impressions on those who come across her.

“Vincent Majere, nice to meet you,” Vincent replied, as it seemed obligatory to introduce himself now, though he didn’t extend his hand to her. His mind was working quickly to remember whether he had heard the name before. He knew the family name – Vincent had quite some knowledge about most of the Wizarding families of Great Britain – and he knew that the York’s were pureblood, or they said they were anyway.

Vincent smiled slightly when the woman indicated that, in fact, neither of them really fit in the drab old pub. She had a point. Vincent did not stand out like Alana did, but his appearance had an air of elegance and professionalism that was quite at odds with the many drunk men sitting near them. The jet black robes were immaculately clean and clearly made of fine material, his face clean shaven and his hair short and tidy. Vincent had always been careful of his appearance. Not to impress the opposite sex, but because he realized that many people judged you by the way you were dressed. Thus, the woman seemed to have mistaken him as a high-class person, when in truth Vincent was nothing of the sort. He had never lived a privileged life as the woman next to him clearly had; Vincent had been born to an extremely poor family and even now was decidedly middle class.

He didn’t bother to correct her though. “Indeed,” Vincent agreed. “Satan’s would be more suitable for a drink and a dance with similar company. But I confess, I am feeling rather lazy today and I simply wanted to have a drink and then go up to my room. I am staying here for a few nights before I leave for Hogwarts,” he informed her. Truth be told, Vincent much preferred the Leaky Cauldron compared to high class establishments like Satans. The latter was always filled with the arrogant and wealthy, and Vincent had always harbored a special grudge against wealthy people. Not to mention, most of the higher class establishments were located in Knockturn Alley, which Vincent was avoiding for now. He had just recently been rehabilitated, and did not want to arouse suspicion by being seen around Knockturn Alley.

“In any case, I am only here temporarily. What brings you here?” Vincent asked lightly, before taking another sip of his mead. Vincent rarely participated in idle conversation. Vincent had little need for friends, what he wanted with this woman even he was not sure. Perhaps it was merely the fact that he had not conversed with anyone even mildly interesting for so long.