Now that September, along with the First Task, had come and past it was now time to get overly excited with the upcoming second task! Or in Church's case, the boredom of not giving a damn about the whole thing and wishing people would shut up about it. And that really went for everyone. Yes, fine, it was a 'once in a life time spectacular extravaganza' and all that nonsense. But honestly, hearing people recounting the same twelve stories from their view in the stand had grown old about an hour after the task had ended.

'Did you see the part where-' Yes, I was there.

'Well what about when-' I was there.

'Well, how about-' I. Was. There.

Simply dreadful. Of course, depending on the company Church often humored them and made comments. Most of the time it was simply internal dialogue he had when talking to people where he thought to himself about how much he didn't need reminding of the events that had happened in front of his face.

Luckily by now it had mostly died down to the point where it wasn't daily conversation material. That's probably what made this little trip to Hogsmeade bearable. He didn't have to sit and listen to the same stories over and over and over like he did back in class. And when they did pop up, for whatever reason, Church was either able to tune it out completely (all that practice paid off, apparently) or simply walked in another direction.

He wasn't even sure why he had come to the little village today. After all, he was hear yesterday to get candy and what not simply because he could. And he would be here tomorrow with Beatrix on a... well he was hesitant to call it a date in the strictest sense. Church didn't really do dates, and Bea didn't really seem sane enough for them. God he hoped it didn't end up being a date. What on Earth would they do?

With a small sigh Church continued to make his way up main street, eyes occasionally lingering on the other students out and about. He wondered if he was expected to dole punishments and the like out here as well. Probably. After all the were representing the school. And he was sure there was something in there along the lines of 'These visits are a privilege,' et cetera, et cetera.

Still, Church really hoped he didn't have to do anything. Would be a shame to spoil the weekend.

Waker came out of a third shop, arms ladden with things for the flat and kitchen cupboard. Living like an adult was expensive, to be sure. But Waker Nolan was nothing if not a planner, and so she had made her list and checked it thrice, everything budgeted perfectly. What had not been in the budget she had quickly (but carefully) run through the bank in her brain, and had walked away pleased to know she was slightly under budget with the prices here in Hogsmeade.

Pleased and flustered. While the prices were slightly better than those in Diagon Alley, Waker had picked quite the week to take an autumn stroll through the tiny village. The bags were weighing on her arms now, redoubled by the sight of Hogwarts students everywhere. Despite the fact that most weren't wearing their uniforms for their weekend in town, it was not hard to spot them: the age range and energy alone made them easy to peg, but it was the familiar face in her peripheral here, a too-familiar smile there that had Waker a little panicky.

It wasn't that she wasn't pleased to see them, her old schoolmates, it was...

Well, these bags were really heavy. Of course that was the reason.

With a sort of halting exhale, umph from which she attempted to quickly recovering-- straightening her spine, swiping hair from her eyes and tucking it behind her ears, and smoothing the front of her (purposely baggy) jumper, she drew her wand, posed to point it at the now-culprit that was a few bags of ingredients and household goods (normal, run of the mill cinnamon and magical cleaners alike). Try as she might to turn this into an efficient, adult, Waker-ish experience, shopping for things like soap was still shopping for things like soap. She was reminded why she loved working at the Ministry, however much it frazzled her sometimes-- in a completely different way from the faces of Hogwarts underlings.

But the next familiar face to wander by was not just a vague, paranoid I-gave-that-girl-detention-with-Professor-Reid-once feeling, but a truly familiar person. “Church?” She called, nevertheless posing it as a question. Her mind caught up with her tongue (something that was more likely to happen to George) a moment later and she nearly bit mouth. Waker looked down, reflexively, and back up again. Her tummy had only just begun to grow a little, but it wasn't so defined; Waker was thin, and this was her first... well, there were things working in her favor and working against her at the same time. Maybe her face was puffy, did her face look puffy? She had stopped herself from George that question, and instead spent a little longer in front of the mirror in the morning, studying herself like a suspicious draft of a third year rogue's essay.

She faced him more properly now, smiling. It was too late to avoid old friends-- and Waker felt a little guilty for thinking of doing it. “How are you?” She asked, eyes sweeping his figure, a knowing smile taking over her lips, as she looked for a badge (though it wasn’t where it would normally be, given that this was a Hogsmeade weekend). “Not patrolling on your day off, I hope...” She trailed off. She might have done that. Once. Or Twice. Whether she was being ironic or sincere, she couldn’t say would leave it to her fellow Ravenclaw to figure out.

She turned back toward her haul a fraction, gesturing apologetically-- and with some socially compulsive hint of you understand-- to the bags sprawled on the bench. With a wave of Waker's wand, the shopping became wound in some sort of meshy net material, like a laundry bag, and shrank to a size that would be easy to stuff into her purse. She felt less flustered, more in control now. And maybe a little more exposed.

“Is it the first Hogsmeade weekend of the semester?” She couldn’t remember the last time she didn’t have the dates color-coded on her calendar. And perhaps she would have done errands closer to home if she had. Her eyes moved reflexively from Church to the offending glint in her peripheral: a girl in the unmistakable robes of Beauxbatons (because Waker had studied the international schools and knew their colors, sigils, and uniforms) was showing off a new, silvery telescope. She looked back to Church, hoping to subtly gather his thoughts on the Tetrawizard experience.

Did someone just say his name? It certainly sounded like someone said his name. Stopping mid step, right leg still hanging in the air, Church spun around to the direction of the voice he had heard. "Waker Nolan,[1]" he said with a slight grin, continuing his stride in her direction. "Didn't expect to see you here," he commented as he got closer, ignoring her odd glance downwards. "Hogsmeade seems a bit out of your way." Wasn't she  a ministry intern or something like that? Figured she would spend most of her time in London. But then again they were capable of transporting themselves anywhere they wanted in an instant with magic, so perhaps Hogsmeade isn't really all that out of her way. Speaking of apparition, Church now wondered if he was allowed to do it on Hogsmead weekends to pop back home for a bit. After all, he could use an afternoon where he spent his time alone in his own personal space, blasting bad music. Plus picking up (and by piking up he meant stealing) some money that his thieving mother brought home never hurt either.

"Oh you know," Church answered vaguely. "Shuffling along." There wasn't exactly anything he could personally complain about himself. But even still it didn't mean he would consider himself as doing well. After all, he was still bitter over a lot of things. And his mood, as per usual, sat in general apathy for the entire situation of life itself.  Some people, nerdier muggle people, wou;d classify him as 'True Neutral'. But in truth Church always saw himself as more of a 'Lawful Evil' type.

Church gave a sheepish smile for a second, hand instinctively reaching to cover the head boy badge pinned to his belt. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure what compelled him to bring it with him this morning, he simply felt weird without it. Of course he felt equally weird having it attached to his shirt. It's not like he wanted to show off the damn thing to the folks in Hogsmeade. Thus he had resolved to attaching it to a place where it could still be seen but wasn't overly obvious. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, seeing as his shirt stopped just above the words printed on the metal.

"I may or may not be doing just that," he answered with a slight grin and a wink as she adjusted her bags. Clever, certainly what he expected someone like Waker to do. "Yea, it's the first. And seeing as it is, I figured I should keep a somewhat close eye out for any rambunctious third years swept up in the immense joy and excitement of being able to leave school grounds." Not that he actually expected that to happen. Being swept up in joy and excitement, et cetera. Although with that said, Church did give a rather wicked if playful grin to a passing group of what he assumed were third year girls. All of whom giggled quietly and hurried on down the street. "Am I not supposed to do that?"

Instinctively Church's eyes followed hers as she glanced away at the girl from Beauxbatons showing people a new telescope. He couldn't help but let out a slight snort. "You'd think they'd be a little more humbled..." Church muttered, turning back towards Waker. "Did you manage to get the day off to come watch the spectacle?" After all, a bunch of Ministry people had shown up, swelling the stands. "I mean... you didn't exactly miss much if you didn't but..." for some reason he cast another glance at the foreign girl, this time rolling his eyes before returning his attention back to Waker. "But I guess it's still worth seeing."

1.	Fun fact: I keep wanting to call Waker 'Tor' >_>

“It’s nice to Apparate over here once in a while. For a change of scenery,” she explained, with a only-slightly guilty smile. Feeling self-conscious, but attempting to ‘go with the flow’ (easier said, like many things), she relaxed her stance, the newly stowed-away armful of shopping no longer spilling across the bench for everyone to see, or weighing down her arms, and thus making it easier-- except she could no longer use them as a distraction. “I was getting a few errands done,” she elaborated.

Her eyes zeroed in on the badge, which had been a perpetual fixation to Waker’s ensemble throughout her final year. She still felt a little strange without it, but it had been months. Now she a Ministry token in her purse, and formal I.D. as well-- but seeing Church’s Head Boy badge brought a whirlwind of fresh memories. The fact that they were memories, that she had reached this place called adulthood, was strange, almost jarring, as much as it was a source of pride.

‘Shuffling along.’

She supposed it was a good attitude to have, but wondered whether she had made it seem so effortless. She hoped so (but wasn’t sure she had). “Shuffling... into trouble?” One never knew with Slytherins. Or most houses who weren’t Ravenclaw (Connor Todd notwithstanding.). Waker smiled to let him know she did not (quite) believe any such thing. Church was a good student and a good choice for Head Boy. And good at covering his mischief.

Shuffling along and patrolling. Multitasking was something to which Waker could definitely relate. “Of course you are. Especially the third years.” Thirteen-year-olds were vicious creatures, if eleven-year-olds were particularly alien-esque in their habits and interests. “Be stealth, though.” And it seemed he was doing just that, with his badge at his belt. “They think they’re cleverer than you...” And, oh, how they were wrong. It was almost annoying, catching them in their ‘cleverness.’ The superior ways of third years were tedious. Waker did not remember being that terrible at thirteen, but then she had never felt thirteen. A child, yes, but one who wanted very badly to be an adult.

As for the visiting Beauxbatons students, most or all of whom were older than the new Hogsmeade inductees from Hogwarts, Waker had no advice. The closest she had come of late were the influx of diplomats visiting the Ministry to oversee the tournament. “I’m off today. I’m supposed to be off every weekend, but it doesn’t always work that way.” Waker, a workaholic, was more frazzled than disapproving. She did not mind going in on a Sunday, much as she loved George and their friends, half of whom slept until afternoon after a festive night out (or in). Waker could not partake, so she threw herself into work. “There’s nothing I would rather see than four competing schools crammed into the village,” she promised, jokingly. (Truth be told, she would have liked to compete, and prickled her a bit to know this was happening the year after she graduated, but the tournament had never fallen on a year when she had been eligible.) “Are you expected to give them detention?” She gestured with a glance toward the French girls. “Or do they have their own Prefects?” One could not exactly take House Points from a Beauxbatons student.

"Ah, understandable. London can be so... hectic." At least that's how he felt about it. After spending slightly more than half hos life living there, he had to admit the big city got very tiring after a while. And actually that was an interesting thought, because now Church wondered what he would do with himself. Where would he live? What would his job be? He kind of wanted to explore, to see the world and the other cultures. To walk into a rain forest with only his wand and the clothes on his back and see what happened. Maybe he should be a curse breaker after all. "I assume there are slightly better prices out here as well? Less of that major settlement inflation."

Church smiled slightly. "Trouble? Me? Come now Waker, you should know better that I'm not a trouble maker. Usually." He gave her a sly wink. "Well I suppose my first act was highly against the rules, probably, but... I don't know it seemed like a good idea at the time, and the prefects did a good job of keeping it under wraps." Not to mention how well they handled some of the other surprise visits from underclassmen.

"Ah but of course they do," Church commented with a slight nod. "I'm pretty sure I did at that age. I think it's typical. We always like to think we're the most clever. But stealth mode, you say?" He gave another small nod and fiddled with the pin for a moment before detaching it from his belt and sliding it into his pocket. "Guess I'll keep it here for now."

Church smiled at her comment on work. "No, I would assume not." After all she had always been the type to work herself to death. Not that that was really a bad thing, it was just. Well as long as he knew her it had been pretty much strictly academic. And Church had always figured she could use some cutting loose. Of course... that reminded him of a few hundred fliers drifting down the hallways. So maybe it was more that she just never said much to him on all aspects of her private life. Which was understandable.

He glanced at the french girls she had motioned towards. "Uh, well..." he hesitated for a moment. He knew the answer but... "Technically yes, they're supposed to be held to our rules and we can dole out punishments but..." Church turned back to her. "Well, you know. I'm not entirely sure how well they'd listen or if their professors would even hold them too it." He shrugged slightly. "I haven't had to do it yet. So if I do, I'll owl you and let you know how it goes."

"But anyway, how has it been with your few months as an intern? You seem to be... well what's the most diplomatic way to say this?" Church crossed arms and tilted his head slightly, considering his words. "Well you seem to be eating better is all." Church smiled. "You're still with... Carter? How are things with him?"