[Hogs Head] Last orders!

[Nicholas McNiven]

The cold hard eyes of Nicholas McNiven were clamped onto his drink as he sat in deep thought about everything that had been happening. He was a wanted man for the murder of an immature ministry worker who was too big for his own boots. After of years of avoiding the punishment for one murder he threw it all away on a stupid child but unlike most people he did not show any regret or remorse for what he did. If he had the chance to repeat the day over again he still would have killed Moan…but he would have finished the job by helping Quinn Locksley take her last breath.

Swigging back his drink McNiven watched as the drunken locals stumbled out of the pub as closing hour drew closer and closer. With a glance down at his watch he knew that the bell would soon ring for last orders and he had learnt from experience that to keep low you do not take part in the tussle to the bar to get one last drink. Sliding out from the table and carrying his empty glass McNiven walked over to the bar and slammed the glass down on the counter and waited for the bar man to come over towards him, but as he waited the door of the pub swung open the person who walked in caught his attention.

[Professor Ashton Laurent]

Ash sighed as he wandered into the Hog's Head, he had started to go to the Three Broomsticks, but found it to be too crowded for his liking. Sitting at the dusty bar, he ordered a butterbeer, as he waited for the drink, he looked around the pub. His eyes fell on a man who looked rather tired, or was it irritated? He gave the man a small smile, then the bartender came over and handed him his drink.

[Elijah Ellerby]

Elijah sent a distracted wave of farewell to Aurélie as the front door of The Three Broomsticks banged shut behind him, the steady chatter and scent of pipe smoke locking him out. The street lights were flickering feebly in the late summer twilight, unable to penetrate it, steel blades of sunset fading out behind the mountains like a distant forest fire. Eli breathed in deeply, enjoying the satisfying sense that came with the day ending so late, as if he could never grow tired. Despite everything that had happened so recently there was goodness in the air, a safety and quietness that only total darkness could envelope, and Elijah wasn’t quite ready to go home.

Despite last orders being so close The Hog’s Head would carry on serving until past midnight. Elijah had always found it a rough place while he was at school, but since having no common room or library to retreat to in the evenings now the ex-Gryffindor had come to realise The Hog’s Head wasn’t aso disagreeable afterall: it was simply close-knit. He had been an outsider for a while, but since ending up in there at least once a week for an after-hours pint he had become much more welcome. There was still the League, of course, but there had never been any sense of company to it – just a collective anger.

Swinging his battered old blazer over his shoulder, the air still and mild, Elijah walked leisurely up the high street, past the post office and across the road to The Hog’s Head, a small group of women gathered on the corner readying to go home. Elijah nodded to them as soberly as he could before leaning on The Hog’s Head front door, pushing it open with his shoulder. Inside the smell of smoke and ale was heavier than The Three Broomsticks, and a compulsory moment of hush greeted him as the patrons turned to study him. Elijah signal for something weak and watery and wound his way toward the far corner where his favourite table was welcomingly empty, but out the corner of his eye he could see someone was still watching him, their shoulders squared warily. Fearful of a confrontation Elijah lifted his gaze to meet theirs with submissive weariness.

He stopped abruptly and tightened his jaw to realise it was McNiven. His stomach churned. ‘Where have you been? You haven’t been to the last three meetings – where do you get off disrespecting us like that?’ Elijah demanded before he could stop himself. He stared McNiven down boldly for a moment before catching sight of someone who shouldn’t have been there: Ashton McLane. ‘Merlin, Ashton – it’s eleven on a school night, what the hell are you doing here?’ He would have greeted the younger Ravenclaw any other time, but the sight of McNiven had left him reeling.

[Professor Ashton Laurent]

Ash looked up at Elijah. "Hey Elijah." he shrugged when Elijah asked him what he was doing at the Hog's Head at eleven on a school night. "I don't have any classes until like ten, so I figured coming down here would be better than staying in the castle. Nothing to do there anyway."

[Elijah Ellerby]

'Except sleep and not get expelled, maybe?' He snapped accusingly, narrowing his eyes. He felt guilty for being so rude toward Ashton, especially when they were practically the same age, but he was beginning to panic at McNiven’s rumbling silence. It would have been too awkward to try and tell him what to do but an involuntary sense of responsibility and self-righteousness swelled in Elijah’s throat.

Avoiding McNiven’s eyes he marched round to Ashton. ‘Come on, I’ll walk you back to the castle. You don’t want to get in trouble.’ He could see Ashton’s expression about to crease and retort with protest, but he widened his eyes at the boy, pleading with him. He had too much pride to simply turn around and walk out just because McNiven was scaring him, and Ashton would provide a good reason to leave without giving himself away. ‘Don’t make me summon Professor Owen!’ He warned, taking hold of Ashton’s arm a little too roughly…

[Professor Ashton Laurent]

Ash jerked his arm out of Elijah's grip. "I am perfectly capable of walking by myself thank you very much!" he snapped coldly. His sapphire eyes narrowed in annoyance, "And last time I checked, you weren't my boss! Now of you'll excuse me, I have a drink to finish." with a last glare at Elijah, Ash stalked back to the bar, and sat down at the bar. "Stupid. Freaking. Ass!" he grumbled. Still mad, he muttered in French, "Qui dans le nom de Merlin fait il croit qu'il est!? L'essai de me dire que faire! Il n'est pas mon patron! Je ne suis pas un enfant!"

((Translation: Who in Merlin's name does he think he is!? Trying to tell me what to do! He's not my boss! I'm not a child!))

[Nicholas McNiven]

There was somebody else looking at him in the pub and McNiven was all to aware of it, his attention switched from the entrance to the building to a young student at the bar, clearly not old enough to drink as he had a pint of butterbeer in his hand and then he did something McNiven had not expected, the boy smiled at him. Trying to return the compliment the frown on McNiven’s face vanished however so smile appeared, it just made a change for him not to have lines sketched across his forehead.

The cool evening breeze from the open door caught the man attention and as he turned around McNiven’s gaze met that of Elijah’s and after many years of getting that very same look form lots of different people McNiven knew that Elijah was not happy to see him and this was only confirmed when he opened his mouth and started to rant away about him not being at his own meetings. This boy was young and naïve and it seemed that the though of being apart of a rebel organisation was going to his head and made him actually believe he could talk to his superiors in such a way and so McNiven thought it better not to dignify his work colleague with an answer.
However Elijah also seemed to lack the ability to talk to his peers from the reaction that the young boy gave him after he tried to take him out of the pub. It was then McNiven found it hard not to laugh when the boy, Ashton he had been called started grumbling to himself in French.

“It seems ya still lack the ability to be of any use Ellerby. Even the wee students at the school do not listen to ye.”

McNiven’s rough slick Scottish voice finally made an appearance although it had the uncommon hint of a jovial tone, Gobien had been a bad influence. With a small cough and scooping up his recently refilled glass McNiven walked slowly over towards Ashton and lowered his head so his mouth was just by the boys ear and then in a hushed tone McNiven spoke once more.

“And a tip of advice for ya wee lad. Be careful who ye talk to no matter what language you say it in. Ellerby in one of my men and if I hear ya bad mouth him one more time it will be me taking ye to castle and I can promise ye would not be in a good state.”

With a toothy, vicious grin McNiven stepped back and walked toward Elijah, his smile fading and the coldness in his eyes slowly coming back. The Scott may have not love in his body for the young lad but Elijah was one of his men and he would be the only person to bad mouth and belittle them.

[Professor Ashton Laurent]

Ash just rolled his eyes, "Well maybe, if he hadn't tried to drag me off, I wouldn't be so angry with him." he replied in a low, cold drawl.

[Alex Cromwell]

"Nikolas!" said Alex going into the pub. "Old man! What are you doing hanging out with these youngin's! I tell ya, anytime you want to get smashed just come and tell me!" he said laughing.

Alex was familiar with the older man. He was sure he was up to no good but the man kept a clean slate and whatever he did was not known to the ministry. He smirked in his drunken state; Alex was certain to get into trouble today.

"Probably don't remember me; I was first year Ravenclaw when you was a seventh...quite the age difference. Though again, certainly not as big of age difference as between you and these young lads. But whatever floats your boat is what I think!"

[Professor Ashton Laurent]

Ash paled at the sight of a Ministry official walking into the bar, then he noticed that thankfully, the man was drunk, and therfore not likely to notice him. Laying some money on the counter, Ash slipped off the stool, snuck past the man, and throwing on his invisibility cloak, ran up the darkened street and to the castle. Reaching the castle, he slowed down to a jog, once he was sure that no one was around at the moment, he slipped inside, and ran all the way back to his common room. Reaching the common room, he dashed up the stairs and into his dormitory, walking softly so as not to disturb the other's he collapsed breathlessly on top of his bed, still clothed, and fell into a deep sleep.

[Elijah Ellerby]

Elijah withdrew his hand swiftly as Ashton shrugged him anyway, loosing his temper. ‘How dare you!’ He shot back rather weakly, his cheeks tinting an ugly red in embarrassment. It was not like Elijah to disregard how he spoke to people, but after so long without any personal turmoil from the League, Hogwarts or the Ministry, his guard had slipped. Spending so much time above the bookshop and visiting Aurelie – whom had spoken less and less about League matters for fear of causing stress to Elijah – he had been relatively sheltered since the incident in the forest. His throat still grew sore at the memory of Thom Moen’s stunned corps. For weeks after he had dreamed of standing over his own body in place of Moen’s, McNiven’s ugly smile the only thing remaining in the evil darkness. He had worked had to forget those dreams, going several nights without sleeping, but now it all came back to him.

He hated to admit it, but there was nothing that frightened him more than an unhinged McNiven.

‘I don’t have anything else to say to you, McNiven,’ Eli retorted, trying to keep his nerve. ‘I don’t know if you even care about the League anymore, but I’ll tell you now that no one’s standing for your recklessness. I – we – want Aurelie to take over. Word is you're loosing your touch, old man.’ His threat was false and low, his voice full of the bluff. For someone who had always had a way with words, Elijah was performing rather poorly tonight.

Swallowing dryly, fighting back glassy eyes, Elijah turned back to Ashton – only to find he was no longer there. ‘Ash?’ He called, looking toward the door. A small sense of triumph attempted to expand in his chest, but the bubble was burst as he saw what Ashton must have fled from: Alex Cromwell, experienced Auror and a recent face to be stationed at Hogwarts, stood before him and McNiven.

The colour drained from Elijah’s face, terrified of how much he had heard. ‘McNiven?’ Elijah looked at his superior, who was looking much more appealing now. ‘I thought you said he was a tyrant?’ He mouthed, recalling McNiven’s last debriefing several weeks ago on the man. It appeared Cromwell wasn’t aware of the bounty of McNiven’s head, nor that he knew perfectly well who Cromwell was, and that he had no interest in being chummy. The Auror was smiling broadly, leaning toward McNiven in unbalance. Elijah wondered who posed the bigger threat: the murderous criminal or the ruthless Auror, however drunk.

[Nicholas McNiven]

McNiven heard the young Ravenclaw’s response and to be honest he did not care about giving him another look. In the Red Rose leaders mind he had made a very clear point of not to mess with him or his men and if Ashley or Ashton…what whatever he was called actually tried something he would be hacked down before he knew what was happing.
Though it seemed McNiven was not the only one thinking about hacking someone down as once again the supposedly shape and witty tongue of Elijah Ellerby sounded out. There was something not right about what he had said that lay uncomfortably with McNiven. He was good with understanding the body langue and emotion carried in peoples voice and he could normally tell straight off when someone was lying, but this one seemed to carry a hint of belief in it, that what he was saying was true.

With an icy glare at Elijah McNiven did not have time to answer back when a voice sounded out towards them, someone was calling his name. Shadows appeared on McNiven’s face as he the other man came into view and although he did not show it fear crept over his black heart. He was now standing face to face with a ministry official but as luck would have it a drunken Auror who clearly had overlooked the memo about McNiven being one of the Ministry’s most wanted men (the blame for the safe house, the single fatality and the injuries of Quinn Locksley were all put down under his name.)

“Oh I remember ya, wee Alex Cromwell though I never took ye as an alcoholic. Tut tut what would the ministry say?”

McNiven was merely testing the water, he was giving lip to them so he was going to see if he would be given any room to tease himself. McNiven gave Elijah another glance almost to make sure that the lad was still standing there although he did seem a little shaken and confused by the first name terms and banter between the two. During his spell at the Ministry McNiven go this face known and his name remembered and he still knew a few people inside the ministry who were able to look over his encounter with young Thom Moan.

[Alex Cromwell]

Alex watched the young Ravenclaw shrink into the corner. He laughed and said, "Oh don't worry boy; the ministry won't send the likes of me after a student. Just wouldn't be fair; you'd have no chance even if I'm stone drunk. Not a lot slips past me."

He glanced at the Gryffindor kid; he seemed ill at ease in the presence of the present company. "Sorry if I frighten ya; the ministry has that affect on people as of late." Might as well taunt him a bit, it wasn't as if he was going to remember much.

He smiled as Rosmerta turned the corner, "I suppose you'll be getting me a water. You always interrupt my drunken fun." He laughed as she rolled her eyes put a glass of water in front of him. "Wonderful woman, always knows what's best for her worst customers."

He laughed, "Oh probably give me a raise no doubt! They don't care what I do on my time off as long as I keep being the amazing auror that I am when I'm on duty." He took a sip of his water with a smile. He smiled at the older man; he would definitely need his wits about him when around McNiven. "That's because most eleven year olds don't take to drinking till there twelve," he said smirking as he finished his water. He winked at Rosmerta as she pushed another water in front of him. "Glorious!"

[Nicholas McNiven]

McNiven watched with interest as Cromwell teased Elijah and unlike he did with Ashton he was not stupid enough to threaten a Ministry official, even a drunken one. No instead McNiven thought he would have a bit of fun with the man, he seemed willing to take and joke and also by the looks of it quite a flirt with the bar staff. Giving Elijah a quick glare like you would with a dog telling them to stay put, McNiven slid into the empty bar stool next to the ministry official and with a toothy grin watched him throw back a glass of water like is was a fire whisky.

“Can I buy ya a proper drink friend? Seeing as ye are off duty there can be ne harm in it, apart from a hangover in the mornin. ”

McNiven might be able to abuse the fact he was not on duty and build a rapport with the man. It would be a dangerous move considering his circumstance of being one of the ministries most wanted, but the Arour seemed to have enough alcohol in his system already so his aim would be slightly off and McNiven would not be content to leave the pub until the man was lying on his back unconscious and the evening will be a blur. Why use magic to erase someone’s memory when the beauty of alcohol can do it for him.

[Alex Cromwell]

He smirked at McNiven as he glared at the young Gryffindor. He was looking hurt and afraid yet he was bold and reckless-typical Gryffindor. They never thought before they acted and it was why most of them ended up dead on the battlefield.

"Sorry McNiven," he said smirking. "I'm okay if you swing that way but it's not the way I roll. 'Fraid I'd much rather accept a free drink from a beautiful woman than a man," he said smiling as Rosmerta pushed another glass of water in front of him. "Although I'm sure I can find some fellows for you."

He guessed that McNiven was attempting get him as drunk as possible. The ministry rarely shared information among it's colleagues-if you didn't know nothing you couldn't say nothing. "No worries McNiven I'm not going to report you to anyone; it's not my job." He said and checked to make sure his wand was still where he left it in case McNiven or the other lad tried to attack.