A Walk Through Hogsmeade

"Well I'm going to need a million four leaf clovers to give me luck," he said. He looked at Aimee and smiled as she inched closer to him. "I hope those flowers give me luck. Though, so long as we're friends they'll be in my house!" he told her softly. "You look cold," he told her. He wrapped his arm around her, "Here.". He smiled down at her, she was only a few inches shorter than him but it was still a considerable difference.

He glanced around at the dingy pub, it didn't look too inviting. It screemed death trap to him really. "Uh...." he said thinking about it. "Alright, but if somone kills me I'm blaming you!" he told her grinning. They departed towards the Hogs Head, Spencer a bit more hesitantly.

The Hogs Head wasn’t the friendliest pub on the outside but it was quieter and more intimate than the Three Broomsticks. Aberforth used to rule it with an iron fist but he had died a while ago. The new owners hadn’t changed anything and that was the great thing about the pub. Brawling still wasn’t allowed much to the chagrin of some people but it was a quiet community inside the Hogs Head and that wasn’t about to change. Aimee loved it there. She could babble on about anything and everything to the bartender for hours and he’d actually look interested in what she was saying which was brilliant for the redheaded chatterbox.

Upon entering the pub Aimee almost instantly went over to the fire that was crackling and warming the pub. A few people were playing a game of cards but most people were quietly sipping their drinks and doing whatever they were doing. Aimee took one of the tables nearer the fire and she took the mauve jacket off. She put it on the back of her chair and rubbed her arms a little to circulate some blood. She cocked her head towards the bar and smiled. “What do you want?” She asked, taking some galleons out of the pocket of her jeans.

Spencer didn't know much about the Hogs Head. He never really actually went to bars often. He assumed they were roudy and loud full of drunks and prostitutes. But this bar, seemed to be rather peaceful and calm. It was like, something he'd read about in..a perfect book. He looked around, it wasn't dirty but it wasn't spotless. He had heard though that there used to be quite a few dark wizards and witches in here at one time. But everyone seemed somewhat peaceful now.

He was snapped out of his daze when Aimee called his name. He turned around to look at her, she was asking what he wanted. "Uh..anything non-alcoholic." he told her moving towards the table she had taken. Right by the fire, so they'd probably be warm there. He took off his jacket and placed it on the back of his chair. He then took a seat and continued to look around. It wasn't so bad here right now, but he kind of wanted to read right now. Maybe read something to Aimee.

With a nod Aimee weaved through the rows of tables as she made her way over to the bar. She counted the galleons in her palm and looked up to see the barkeep waiting patiently for her to order. She smiled at him and looked at the barrels mounted on the wall. “Can I have two Butterbeers please and,” Aimee rose herself up onto her toes and looked at the stash of different things that they had as snacks. “Some roasted peanuts, please?” The barkeep nodded and set about getting the drinks ready. Aimee looked around as she waited and her eyes fell on a dusty old jukebox that looked as if it had seen better days. She moved her feet across the worn carpet and held her hand out to it. She felt the cool glass beneath her hand and she wiped some of the dust away.

Aimee took a sickle out of the money in her hand and pushed it into the machine. It came to life before her eyes and she eagerly began to flick through the song book, searching for something familiar to her. She picked one and slowly but surely the speakers began to crackle into life and the music began to flow from them. Aimee smiled softly and heard the call of the bartender. She Is The Sunlight was quite possibly her favourite song in the whole world and to hear it was incredibly soothing for her. Aimee could feel herself relaxing even as she stood there. The bartenders pressed the drinks into her hands and held the bag of peanuts up for her to take between her teeth. Aimee did just that and he pointed to the jukebox. “I’ve only seen one person work that machine and that was Aberforth himself. Think yourself lucky, love, that thing doesn’t just work for anyone that walks through here.”

Her eyes flicked back to the jukebox and Aimee couldn’t help but wonder what the barkeep meant by that. She looked at him with a quizzical expression and he merely smiled in response. Aimee shook her head and turned away from the bar, taking the drinks back over to the table. She put them down on the old wooden table first and then sat down in her chair. She ripped the corner open and tipped a few into her hand before putting the bag on the table. She put the peanuts into her mouth and looked back at the odd jukebox that was now thrumming away, producing the music that created the song she loved so dearly. Swallowing, Aimee turned back to Spencer and smirked a little. “I love magic, don’t you?”

"Yeah, magic's great..." he said his eyes focused on the jukebox. Was that what he thought it was. Nah, it couldn't be. But it might be, the silent argument between the voices in his head continued but he was not really present. He slowly got up and moved towards the music player. He tapped the glass on the front, and eyed it carefully. It looked kind of familiar, and seemed to radiate a kind of..aura. He shrugged and figured it was nothing, but it was rather odd.

He walked back to the table and sighed, "Sorry, seemed kind of familiar." he said. "It's an odd thing isn't it? Wizard jukeboxes," He took a sip of his butterbear silently and looked at Aimee. "Do you know what time it is? I dropped my watch in a cauldron and it smashed the other day." he said a little embarassed. He was always dropping watches, he debated weather he should just, put a permanent sticking charm on one. But then thought better of it. And now was was blushing, realizing he could've just repaired the watch with a wave of his wand.

When Spencer got up, Aimee pouted a little. She sighed, shaking her head, and took a swig of her Butterbeer. She savoured the taste and licked her lips before swallowing. She shook some more peanuts in her hand and picked a few, popping those two into her mouth. Aimee looked at him quizzically when he returned to the table and she shrugged. She wasn’t particularly familiar with Wizarding Jukeboxes, preferring the Muggle ones. When he asked her what time it was she swallowed what she had in her mouth and glanced down at her watch. “Eight-Thirty, why?” She asked, popping the rest of the salted nuts into her mouth. As she chewed, her eyes focused on a spot in the carpet. She fingered the pendant hanging from the delicate chain around her neck and sighed wistfully. She shook her head a little and curled some of her hair behind her ear. She swallowed once more and took a sip of her Butterbeer before more or less zoning out again, her eyes returning to that same spot on the carpet.

"No reason..." he asked her. He just wanted to know the time is all. She was zoning out, was he really that boring. Well, maybe he should start a topic about plants. But he still couldn't take his eyes off of the Jukebox. It seems, so familiar. And the song Aimee had played, it was peaceful. He had heard it before, but it wasn't as peaceful as it had been when he heared it just now. He sighed heavily and took another sip of his drink. He watched her play with her necklace, something she would do often. "Something on your mind?" he asked her. She looked kind of...let down? Nah, sad? No...confused. That was probably it. "You seem troubled..."

Whatever her distant thoughts were, Spencer pulled her from them and Aimee looked at him. Her cheeks flushed crimson again and she looked down at the table. She dropped the pendant and it bounced against her skin before settling against the creamy surface. She ran her finger around the rim of her glass and shrugged. “I’m not just wistful I guess. The Professors went on and on about how life jumped into the fast lane when you graduated...it’s just got slower and more like a meander to me. Every day is more and more peaceful than the last. It’s sort of nice but boring at the same time. Maybe we should go to a theme park.” She suggested on a whim. “I always liked those places. My dad loved them too. My mum would mutter about Muggles and their adrenaline addiction but hey, it’s good fun right? We should go!” What a silly, scatterbrained witch – always thinking up something new without giving it much thought.

Spencer was caught off guard at this suggestion. He practically went pale at the thought. Has she not listened, or even scene his amount of poor luck. Him in an amusement park did not equal goodness. "Oh, I dunno Aims..." he told her hesitantly. "I just..don't think it'd be good for me. I'm not exactly the most coordinated person around. And I'd probably throw up a lung riding a ride..." he said quietly. He could feel the heat enter his cheeks, he quickly downed the rest of his butterbear and choked a little bit. "See, almost coughed up a lung now." he said when he finished.

“Oh come, on!” Aimee laughed at Spencer and shook her head, not quite believing her friend. He was so silly. “You won’t throw up a lung let alone cough one up – that’s not possible. You’re just being melodramatic. Alright so maybe not a theme park but what about the seaside? That’s always a fun place and the beaches in Cornwall are particularly sandy. There are also rock pools and caves that can be explored. I’d want to try the pasties though. They’ve got this little boutique that sells runic items and – hey! Maybe we could get you a runic tattoo! They’re really, really good and they’re charmed just with the designs to keep someone safe. My tattooist had the runs etched into the feathers of the Swallow. If you look with a magnifying glass then you can see them. I have no idea how he did it but maybe you could do that! That would work better than plants. The bells are pretty though. I need to get a clover from somewhere. Or maybe we could just staple a piece of paper with ‘personal safety hazard’ on the front.” Aimee beamed at her friend.