Sebastian-whoisleft:
sebastian-whoisleft:
Sebastian did his best to be on time to the meeting, which was to say he was just over twenty minutes late. It was strange for him, too – not to be late to meetings, but certainly to be late to the information-drops held at bars. He had a sneaking suspicion that this was why he’d been chosen for today’s handoff…but it almost might have had something to do with the fact that it was Harper Baddock he was meeting and, unless they were sleeping with or enjoyed intimidating them, many of Sebastian’s fellow Death Eaters considered themselves above meeting with the lower-level informations.
Knowing who he was meeting – and knowing the venue well – took a lot of the pressure off things. (A little more pressure might have encouraged him to show up on time, even early, but Sebastian wasn’t interested in connecting any Point A to Point B that would make him be a more devoted servant of his Dark Lord.)
The Gilded Serpent was an infamous Death Eater haunt, frequented by seedy people doing seedy dealings often enough that people didn’t blink any eye when spooky, grizzled folks crossed the threshold.
And so nobody, either, cast a second look in the direction of Sebastian Nott: his youthful glow, his recently-arrested father, his tousled hair.
“Right on time,” he said, laying the fake congratulations on himself while he sidled up to the bar.
Get in, get the information, get out, Antonin’s voice said in his head. Quickly.
Sebastian flagged down the bartender instead.
“Is that your first one,” he asked Harper, lifting a brow. “Or do I have some catching up to do?”
-
Finally he arrives Harper thought, resisting the urge to look down at her watch as Sebastian slid into the seat next to her at the bar. She didn’t know him well. She didn’t know many of the Death Eaters well, to be honest. But the fact that he didn’t seem too keen on immediately turning his nose up at her gave Harper some semblance of hope. Combined with his tousled hair and the easy smile on his face, she felt like she couldn't be mad at the young man.
She was impressed that he was even making an effort to have a conversation; his words implying that he was going to stay for at least a drink or two. Harper had enough encounters that lasted barely long enough for the documents she had prepared to leave her hands, and she could count the number of times she received a thank you.
“And to think I was worried you’d stood me up,” she remarked, shooting him a sly smirk. “Don’t worry, you’re only-” she paused to effortlessly polish off what was left in her glass, “two drinks behind,”
For what it was worth, the Gilded Serpent made surprisingly good drinks, and most drinks were even better when you weren't drinking alone, as far as Harper was concerned. As a general rule, she was a private person: In her day-to-day life she didn’t usually let people in, and she certainly wasn’t the one who usually initiated conversations. But her rules changed when she was out at night; at a bar, a club, a party, really anywhere with drinking and nightlife. Definitely when she was drinking— but even when she wasn’t— something made her want to socialize; and she was damn good at it when she wanted to be.
“So, what are you drinking?” she asked Sebastian, tilting her head towards the waiting bartender.
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lilyeliora:
Lily nodded solemnly as Harper rambled. It was obvious, at least to Lily, that this woman was simply desperate for companionship, and hadn’t really thought beyond having some kind of pet to fill the void. It was, in Lily’s opinion, far more sensible than using romantic partners to do so. Still, she felt that she had to give a disclaimer. “Cats are more self-sufficient, but they still need attention and brushing and play time. I wouldn’t recommend a dog if you have a really demanding job or a particularly active social life because they can get really depressed, or even destructive if you’re not around enough. Either way, it is a big commitment. You could easily have this pet for the next ten years.”
Even as she spoke, she ushered Harper a few steps to the side so they were standing directly in front of the cats’ enclosure. Unlike in muggle shelters, there weren’t many black cats on offer, but there was a good variety of tabbies and calicos, and even a few torties. Lily was both pleased and sad to see that her favorite cat, a particularly round pale orange tabby, was missing. She’d been hoping to see him today, but if he wasn’t here, that meant he’d been adopted, which was better for him in the long run.
She noticed Harper hanging back a bit and smiled encouragingly. “The next thing to do is just to hold your hand up to the cage and see how they react and how you react. It’s okay if a really energetic and playful cat makes you uncomfortable, or if a laid back one seems boring. Your personality and the cat’s need to mesh. I’d just recommend not getting too invested in a particular coloring, how a cat makes you feel is more important than how it looks.”
-
Harper swore she could feel her blood pressure rise at Lily’s mention of a ten year commitment. It wasn’t the prospect of caring for a living creature for ten years that gave her pause; Harper was no stranger to responsibility. It was the concept of 10 years down the road that she struggled with. Who would she be? Where would she be? Though it would be nice to have a companion to face the uncertainty with. Besides, Lily had a cat, as did Safiye, and Geraldine had her dogs.
She scanned the cages of cats, trying to determine where to start. Some of them, she noticed, had small descriptions of the creature within.
Pale green eyes caught hers first and drew her over to a brownish gray tabby with white paws, as if he stepped in paint. “Calm and independent” his description read. He gave Harper a sniff and she swore he rolled his eyes before turning his head away from her.
In the cage diagonally below sat a lankier, mostly black, tuxedo cat with amber eyes. She’d been batting at a toy in her cage and when Harper’s attention shifted to her, the cat’s energy increased, though with a slightly territorial edge. Trying to calm the cat she took a step back. It wasn’t until then when Harper noticed the note describing her as “highly energetic though a little possessive”
Somewhat randomly, Harper picked a different section of cages to focus on. Inside one, a medium sized cat with multicolored patches of fur— she thought Lily had called it a tortie— slept soundly, and she couldn’t bring herself to disturb it. The chunky, cinnamon toned tabby in the neighboring cage stretched and let out a gravelly meow before retreating further back.
A few rows down, a small, solid grey cat with emerald eyes let out a meow crossed with a chirp that made Harper crouch to its level. Offering her hand, the creature bumped it with its forehead and rubbed against it. Heart melting, she looked for a label with any descriptions or requirements, and smiled when she saw none. But, as if to dash her hopes, a shopkeeper walked by moments later. “A lovely little girl she is. Just arrived yesterday evening so I haven’t had a chance to add a label yet, but we’d like to keep her and her brother together” she commented, gesturing towards the cage next to it, where a similar looking cat was curled up lazily. Harper knew she couldn’t handle two— she was still concerned about messing up one.
“I’ll be back in a minute” Harper said quickly, trying not to show the dejection she felt. She took a partial lap around the store, stopping among the aisles of cat essentials and accessories.
Liquid Dinner // Harper and Sebastian
It hadn’t been a particularly difficult or even eventful day for Harper. No hotel crises on her radar. If any were brewing, the management had elected not to tell her yet. Shrugging to herself, she tried to dismiss the thought and convince herself that she was making the best of what her evening had become. She tried not to roll her eyes too obviously at that thought as she subtly scanned the seedy yet passingly comfortable bar.
She had been about to leave her office suite at one of the London hotels, grab herself some dinner, and head home when an owl swooped in through one of the windows in the small entryway sitting room, delivering a message. The way the bird’s marigold-colored eyes blazed into hers before it flew out as swiftly as it arrived told Harper that this was not a note that could wait until after she picked up dinner. After taking a moment to skim through it, she set her jaw, letting out a frustrated exhale as she turned around and headed back up the miniature set of stairs that led to the actual room of her office. The note, unsurprisingly, contained instructions about hotel paperwork that she needed to prepare and information about when and where to meet: In two hours’ time at one of the bars that served as a Death Eater hangout. It wasn’t that Harper minded putting in the effort to do the work. In fact, she enjoyed putting together the documents and creating their details. They were always impeccable, of course, and Harper took great pleasure in being told as much. What she wished, however, was that she would be given more notice on these tasks. She understood the importance of secrecy and discretion, and that some of these needs popped up unexpectedly, but informing her at least a couple more hours in advance should theoretically be doable.
So here she was… two hours later…. dinner-less. She sat at the bar, swirling a mostly full glass of gin and tonic. Harper wasn’t usually an impatient person, but as five minutes ticked by she contemplated downing the rest of her drink as she waited.
@sebastian-whoisleft
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Harper Baddock 23. BDK Hotels Owner/Heiress. Ravenclaw Alumna. Featured in Transfiguration Today
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