Not On My Watch

American as he was, Lee's mother was British, and he'd gone to school here. He had a different role in his life now, but that surely didn't mean he didn't like a pint, especially when there was purpose to it. He was looking for someone that would fit his needs, someone who could consistently fly under the radar.  He needed to scope out Hogsmeade first.  He figured he might garner too much attention, perhaps, at The Three Broomsticks. He had chosen the Hogs Head because well, the people here didn't generally ask all that many questions. It also seemed to have a bit of a darker atmosphere. There were more corners and crannies to be unnoticed in.  He'd slipped inside from the winter's cold, ordered a pint, and then had disappeared into a darkened corner to watch and wait.

There was another motivation for choosing this particular pub. The old bat he didn't particularly like wouldn't lower herself to come to a place like this without a more than excellent reason, and, so far as Lee knew, she had none. A dyed in the wool Gryffindor, Lee had a few friends that he wouldn't hesitate to throw himself "all in" for. It was what he was doing now. He had every reason not to be here, and yet he had even more to be exactly where he was. Besides that, he didn't trust that crude old harpy not to try something that would undermine national and international security, and that made her high on his list of priorities. He didn't trust her as far as he could spit her, and he wanted to know what the devil she was up to. She'd be looking for confederates, and he would be happy to provide her with one of his own.

He had a clear understanding with his closest friends, and he was here for a friend now. His friend didn't know he was here, but that was as Lee needed it to be for now.  Matters like this usually were explained with "This is an Eyes Only matter. When your eyes need to know, I'll show you." It was a boundary, a code for: "You don't wanna know so don't make me tell you." If his friend didn't ask, Lee didn't tell. Lee liked espionage and intrigue. It was one of his stronger suits, and right now, he figured that was a good thing. What he didn't know was whether the old crone that was the mark of this operation was better than he was at it or not,  but he was about to find out.

(ooc--going from the standpoint that Lee doesn't know Baldric yet and that he's looking for a 'cold' contact. couldn't figure a reason he'd know baldric.  if you want me to edit, let me know!)

From his little refuge behind the bar, just underneath the last call bell that he rung without fail just after midnight every evening, Peter Howard (errr, Conall Hayes) observed as his little witch – not so little anymore, really – buzzed about the bar, chatting to locals as she brought drinks down from the bar to them. His eyes left the sociable brunette and fell to his bartender, a young whip of a lad just out of Hogwarts who had decided to take his gap year at the Hog’s Head rather than go straight to university. Peter could have thought of a few better places for the boy to go but he wasn’t going to begrudge the help. After a few days of struggling, he finally seemed to be getting a hang of this, well, bartending business. The thought brought a smile to the wizard’s face as he took his eyes off around the bar again, observing those who did not wish to be observed, those who had long lost the taste for the Three Broomstick and, of course, new faces.

Though having been refurbished into a brighter establishment, attracting new and brighter clientele, the one thing that Peter could not shake out of the Hog’s Head was its penchant for bringing in those who needed to make a dodgy deal. That was what he suspected of one man who caught his eye. He was crowd watching, just like Peter was. Now, although Peter meant no harm, he couldn’t necessarily say the same for this fellow. He decided to keep a good eye on him and he decided to mask that a little by pushing off of his roost and wandering down the bar towards his friend who had been nursing the same, now warm, pint of bitter since he’d arrived early in the evening. He’d been picking at the wood of the bar ever since.

“I won’t charge you for this one, Bae,” he told the Scotch man with a jovial enough smile as he picked up the glass. Half empty – or was that half full? He glanced at the morose, weary looking creature before him. Half empty. Definitely half empty. Despite the despondence of his form, Bae cracked a smile, peering up at Peter from under the hand he had rested his head into. Peter reached forward and pushed the younger man’s glasses up onto his head, his fingers trailing fondly across the Pierson’s cheek. He slapped his hand gently against it after a moment, drawing a wider, wryer smile from Baldric. “Perk up, kid. Can’t be that bad, can it?”

“Just tired, mate,” Baldric replied, pushing himself up into a proper sitting position all the same. “Aren’t you, after all that’s happened lately?”

Peter gave a shrug of a shoulder. “Gotta get on with it. Can’t catch every fast ball life throws, can we?” He reached forward and ruffled the feathers of Baldric’s hair. “Do you want another or are you going home?”

“Another,” he requested softly. “Then I’ll go home.”

“Good idea. Hang on. I’ll be back in a mo.”

(OOC: @Khaat Lupin ... I totally didn't forget to post here. Haha. Here it is, at last!)