Catch The Snitch

London, England
Saturday, 3 December 2005
A flood of thoughts and emotions, wild and chaotic, pounded steadily against Malachi’s mind. Closing his eyes, he steeled his will and partially closed off his mind against the unstoppable tide. Usually his natural Legilimency didn’t pose much of a problem for him, but in a crowded environment such as the Muggle club he was in where a fair number of the patrons were inebriated, the thoughts of those around him were much louder, less inhibited, and more intrusive.

Reopening his eyes with renewed focus, the Mal watched the bartender from his seat at the end of the bar. With practised ease the bartender concocted drink after drink, working at an unhurried pace as he chatted with the patrons. Mal had to admit, the bartender was pretty fit and extruded a certain confidence and charm, but that wasn’t the reason why he was here. Nor was he here to hook up with anyone else. He had had his fair share of heartbreaks, and was neither seeing anyone currently nor planning to do so. Not in the near future, at the very least.

Rather, he was here for work-related reasons. Specifically, he was seeking inspiration for new cocktail recipes, and it was upon the recommendation of a fellow mixologist that he had came to this Muggle club. The drink before him was proof of the bartender’s skill: a classic and simple cocktail, but made to perfection. Based on this one drink alone, this bartender could give him – and possible even Raphael – a run for his money.

As another customer came up to the bar and asked for a bespoke drink, Mal’s ears pricked up. This was what he had came here to see. Discretely he observed as the bartender got to work, mentally taking note of any unusual combination of ingredients that went into the drink.

The magical side of things was all he’d known since he’d moved across the pond and Davi was practically bouncing as he wandered down the street in London proper. Being back among muggles felt comfortable and familiar causing him to smile absently as his gaze moved from place to person and all around him as he walked. Noticing the sign of the club he’d been searching for he went through the song and dance of making his way inside, much the same way he always did. He’d been waiting for a sign it was time to go out and have fun but nothing had come to him so he’d finally decided to go out anyway.

If fate meant for him to find something to keep him occupied well it could find him just as easily there as at home. Absently smoothing a hand along the corset vest he wore beneath his suit coat he made his way through the throngs of club-goers to the bar proper. Lifting a hand to tuck his hair back behind an ear he wasn’t at all surprised when the bartender approached almost immediately and he flashed a smile, “An Old fashion with Old Forester 1920 please.” He knew what to ask for and he wasn’t at all surprised when the bartender kind of smiled.

Anyone who knew how to order by name understood how things worked and tipped well for good service. Shifting his frame slightly he rested with one arm leaned against the bar while his gaze moved over the crowd curiously, the energy was electric and he mentally sighed contently. This was something he’d missed about home, knowing all the places to go where this kind of energy but he would find them slowly here as well. He’d just have to make a habit of coming out more when he wasn’t needed at the school.

Another customer came up to the bartender to place an order, and a rather specific one to boot: an old fashioned, made with Old Forester’s 1920 Style Prohibition Whisky. He knows his stuff, Mal noted as he took a good look at the customer. He was a well-dressed man with shoulder-length hair and a corset vest. But more importantly, the man looked familiar, and it didn’t take long for Mal to recall where he had seen him. Recently Mal had been gathering information about the Aurors and staff at Hogwarts, and he recognised the man as Davi Baptiste, the Divination professor.

Be it providence or coincidence that had brought Davi here, Mal was not inclined to let the opportunity go to waste. Picking up his drink, he casually walked over to the professor. “It’s not often that I come across a man of great taste, not only in fashion but in alcohol too,” he said to Davi, initiating a conversation with a polite compliment. “I find that not too many people here know of Old Forester,” he continued, hoping the topic was something Davi would be keen to talk about. “Quite a shame, isn’t it?”

Waiting as the bartender immediately grabbed the glass and the specific bourbon he requested, Davi felt a little better about venturing out tonight. At least if nothing else he’d get a decent drink. When the voice spoke up near him he glanced in the direction and gave the man a careful once over before he smiled, “I aim to please, helps it makes me happy too.” Giving a little nod in agreement he chuckled, “Good for those of us who enjoy it then, isn’t hard to get our hands on when we want it… best kept little secret I like to think.”

When the bartender sat his drink down, he pulled out his cash to pay him making sure to tip him well, after all treating the staff right was the surest fire way to get in their good graces at whatever establishment he happened to choose. Taking a sip of his drink he turned to regard the man who’d approached him and started the conversation, something about him was vaguely familiar yet Davi was sure he’d never met him.

Extending his hand to him the corners of his lips curled slightly, “Bat… and you are?” One thing would never change, he kept to not giving out his given name to the people he met in various bars and clubs. It saved him headache later and of course protected his job among other things that needed to be kept hush-hush.

Mal observed the professor’s every movement even as the latter gave him a once over. He couldn’t help it – his profession as an information broker meant that he was always taking in information and filing them away for the future. And when the professor referred to Old Forester as a ‘best kept little secret’ and how it was a good thing for the minority who appreciated the bourbon, his smile widened as he voiced his agreement, “Good for us indeed., though I must say it’s not a problem I encounter often.” As the owner of his own establishment it was considerably easier for Mal to procure whatever beverage he fancied. Not that the professor would be able to infer from whatever little he knew about Mal at the moment (short of divining the truth directly, of course).

The professor’s generous tip didn’t go unnoticed by Mal, and that made the him smile inwardly. It was always a pleasure to have an appreciative and generous customer, and if he had been in the bartender’s shoes, that act would have further nudged him a step towards offering a free bespoke cocktail. And the surprises didn’t end there; when Mal went up to initiate a conversation, the professor introduced himself as Bat. Unless it was a nickname (which Mal doubted), offering a false name to a random stranger they had met for the first time was a sensible thing to do, and more so for a wizard in a Muggle establishment.

“Jin,” Mal said as he accepted the proffered hand with a firm handshake, using a shortened form of his Korean name, and one that he occasionally used when he was mingling with Muggles. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He nodded in the direction of the bartender who was busily preparing various drinks. “I heard that he’s one of the better mixologists in London. And judging from this”—he indicated the drink in his hand—“I’m inclined to believe that.”

“You see, I’m a mixologist myself,” Mal continued after he took another sip of his drink. “There’s only so much you can come up with by yourself after all, so from time to time I like to visit a pub or bar that I haven’t been to before to check out the competition, and glean some ideas and inspiration.”

Having offered a brief insight into himself, Mal turned the focus to his newly-met acquaintance. “What about yourself?” Mal asked. “Are you meeting a friend? Or just here by yourself to relax and unwind?”

When he returned the gesture and introduced himself in return Davi smiled, "Pleasure is all mine." Sipping his drink his attention shifted back and forth briefly as Jin spoke explaining what he'd heard about the bartender causing Davi to nod a bit in agreement. The drink certainly spoke to it but he knew a few other who could probably mix a better one, just not in London.

It wasn't until Jin mentioned being a bartender himself or rather a mixologist that his attention shifted to him fully and he head tilted some, "Really? Well color me curious now." The area around the bar was becoming a bit congested which normally he wouldn't have minded but it was making conversation a bit harder than he would have liked. After Jin's question Davi smiled sheepishly, "Just unwinding, maybe a bit of people watching.."

Motioning towards a space not far from where they stood but significantly less crowded than where they currently were he gave a little incline of his head. "While I don't mind crowds, they do make conversation difficult." There were a few empty seats at the bar and a table and even a booth it seemed so there were options if Jin chose for them to sit. Davi didn't really care whether they sat or stood, he was perfectly content to continue their conversation and his drink.

Just a little more distance from the crowd at the bar, if either needed a refill he knew it wouldn't be hard to get one after the tips they'd both given the bartender. If he didn't keep tabs on them directly he'd instruct the servers too, Davi knew how the service industry worked and more often than not he used that knowledge to make sure himself and whoever he was with always had a good night out. "If you aren't waiting on someone yourself, of course.."