It had been a while since Naila had a proper night out with one of her more impossibly stoic drinking buddies, and so she had owled none other than Cameron Rosier to go out to have a nice chat and drink with her.  With a soft smile playing across her lips, Naila embraced the the grumpy workaholic in a gentle hug before pecking a kiss on each of his cheeks, "Now, if I so much as see you being any sort of crotchety old grump," she then lowered her embrace by hooking her shawl around Rosier and tugged him into the club with a devilish grin, "We are buying the bar."

She stepped forward and slipped her black shawl off of her companion by whipping it down the entryway, splitting into various avenues towards the different parts of the bar. She gave a contemplative hum as she wrapped her shawl back over her shoulders and spun to face Rosier with her wavy gold hair bouncing around her shoulders. A blonde eyebrow rose on her head as she let her hips fall into an uneven lean, "Now which do you prefer?"

She twisted her hands down to her waist as she focused her blue gaze on Rosier's, "Suite, bar, or restaurant?"

Rosier usually had the habit of going for a drink after work, sometimes with his equally grumpy co-workers and sometimes by himself - because he really did enjoy drinking alone. However, since some time around Halloween, literally all of his free time belonged to the lovely Dolly St. James. Despite the fact that he was deeply annoyed about all the gossip about them in the press, he had to admit he'd really missed having a woman in his life. Somehow, things felt less grim when you returned home to find a stunning twenty-something year old. Also, she was considerably better company than Puck the house elf.

But that didn't mean Cameron's other friendships had to suffer. Even though his free time was already scarce, he managed to find a free evening for one of his most charming friends. Naila was great company - she loved drinking just like him (if not more) and always had interesting stories to tell - these were the qualities Rosier definitely approved of. He was glad she wanted to go to Hogsmeade - Rosier loved the old village as it reminded him of his old days. However, when he realized where she was leading him, the usual unpleasant frown graced his aging face. Ugh, Signature. Faux-contemporary places like that only ruined the entire point of Hogsmeade.

He did smile however when the woman dragged him inside, as if seeing his sudden reluctance. Yes, he guessed he was all for buying the entire bar...as long as he manages to crawl to work tomorrow in one piece. He eyed the place with distaste, faced with three 'choices'. It was all the same in this terrible place anyway, but he always preferred the bar - that way he could be close to the booze. "The bar, obviously," he said with a smirk and walked in its direction with his lovely companion.

"So, what's new in the life of Miss Ferarri?" he asked as they finally sat down. "And I apologize in advance for being a crotchety old grump - I guess you can't beat any sense into old grumps."

Naila took her seat next to her friend as a small pout settled on her lips as her voice crawled with a soft purr, "No it's not,"  then a white smirk gently pulled her lips into a smile as she crossed her legs and spun around to face the bar, "That's why you turn it into a hard lesson to swallow," she gestured towards the dramatically towards various drinks on the back wall and her gaze landed on the bartender. Though she paused and her blond eyebrows suspiciously arched towards the man whose cheeks were blossoming into a red blush--but before they could turn beet red he walked over to make a few drinks for some others on the edge of the bar. A satisfied smirk rested on Naila's lips as she pulled herself upright on the seat and gave her friend a mischievous glance.

"As for new and exciting..." she said with subdued and devilish glee,  "Tonight, of course," she lifted a hand towards Rosier and the rest of the club before giving helpless sigh, "And maybe something tomorrow." It was obviously not the answer Rosier wanted, but Naila knew he always enjoyed listening to her ridiculous exploits. Though Naila loved a good dance, even if it was in the form of a small verbal jive.

"Aren't you seeing a journalist? I'm sure she can write some exciting nonsense to read to you at night,"  Naila leaned back and hooked a hand around he knee as she regarded her friend with a narrowed brow--of course she knew he was seeing a novelist, though she didn't know the specifics of who and didn't care to keep up with the UK news enough to figure it out, but the implications of dating a journalist was far more amusing. As a celebrity, Naila adored their attention while paying no mind to the scandalous rumors; As an auror, she was sure Rosier disliked everything that came with fraternizing with journalists. She doubted either of them were daft enough to keep one as any sort of bedmate--it was far too compromising.

A giggle hummed in her throat as her gaze playfully wandered over to the bar, "Perhaps if you choose a drink to satisfy my mood I might feel gracious enough to tell something of interest," her eyebrows narrowed with a challenging arch as she threw her friend on of her sassy smiles.

"I'm afraid drinking with an old drudge won't bring you much excitement," he replied with a tiny hint of a smile. He always pretended to be so modest, speaking so lowly of himself, when in reality he knew why others enjoyed his company. Yes, he was a grump and he could be as unpleasant as Dolores Umbridge on a good day, but he was also a great drinking companion - and he knew many people valued this quality of his.

"A writer actually," he corrected her even though he knew she probably couldn't care less. Dating a journalist would be a bit too much, especially for Rosier who was so sensitive to bad press these days. He constantly criticized the Prophet and its decrease in quality, he spat in the general direction of the Quibbler and he had nothing but sheer loathing for the tripe that was Witch Weekly and all its hell-spawned staff. "And I'm sure she can, but I'd rather spend my nights with her with other kinds of exciting nonsense," he said, raising an eyebrow. Oh, so amusing...he could almost roll his eyes at himself. He needed to stop twisting other people's words while outside of the office, but it was difficult and the results were usually pretty amusing.

He smirked a bit when she left him to choose the drinks. Then it was simple; it was almost always champagne o'clock in Rosier's world. He even kept a bottle hidden in his office, under a tattered pile of case files in a cluttered drawer. As he ordered the drinks, he turned his attention back to Naila, noticing that somehow, despite the awful venue he was starting to feel a bit more optimistic. "I will be very disappointed if you don't. Well, you will be too because I'm sure you don't want to listen to my stories...unless perhaps you fancy yourself a tale about two silly men raiding a dress shop or some drivel about the Head of DoMLE showing up to work sans trousers."

With a hint of amusement, the man was quick to rebuke her comment about having an exciting time with him, causing Naila to lightly shake her head as a quiet purr tickled her throat, "You are a horrible liar when you want to be," she spoke as if it were a compliment but her blue eye sarcastically rolled towards the ceiling. Then Rosier went and corrected her about his writer lover and that they would not be sharing exciting bedtime stories.

Naila dug her fingers into her wavy blonde hair and breathed a dreamy sigh as she let her bottom lip purse out from a small smile, but then he went and ordered them champagne and her smile turned into a curious smirk a she suspiciously regarded her friend. That was far too easy, but, then again, Cameron Rosier wasn't a man who ever let a woman challenge him--lest he do so in return.

Of course then Rosier shared a tale that sounded as amusing as something she might fancy while sober. It carved a wide smile on the woman's rosy lips a giggle beat against a throaty hum, "Oh my, did the lack of trousers have something to do with you raiding a dress shop?" their drinks were placed in front of them and Naila placed a finger around hers and pushed it towards her as she added, "Really love, if you want to show up to work wearing proper clothes you shouldn't be raiding a dress shop," she wrapped her fingers around her glass and took a sip of the champagne as she kept her gaze trained on her companion.

Then her lashes gave a bat as she lifted her head away from her drink, "Unless you want to go shopping with me..." she sang a gentle 'hmm' as she let her gaze rise and fall over Cameron's figure before she placed scissored the collar of his shirt between her fingers, "Though, should you let me choose your wardrobe you might be wearing nothing but a boa to work," then she pulled her hand away and dramatically pressed it against her chest, "The snake, of course." Though the thought of somehow managing to get Cameron in a feathered Boa sounded tempting as well.

He wasn't a horrible liar, but there was no point in arguing with this one. Whatever he said, Naila would twist his words for her own amusement, but he knew that already. It was funny, but it was also slightly exhausting, however he learned to get used to it over time. He could see she wanted to cheer him up, but he was a hopeless case - a bottle of champagne and some girlish giggles weren't enough to bring a smile to his face. But he did hope, despite himself that she'll share some amusing stories which might brighten his foul mood.

"No, no those are two different stories, sorry to disappoint you," he knew Naila would enjoy listening to a story in which he makes a complete fool out of himself. So, naturally he would deny her that experience. He smirked at her ridiculous statements and shook his head a bit. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned a dress shop..."Oh, really? And I was under the impression that was exactly the thing one has to do in order to show up wearing proper clothes to work," he said, maybe a bit too humourlessly, his eyebrow arching in that typical way. Taking a sip of champagne, Rosier remembered why he loved Naila's company - she was completely ridiculous. and Rosier secretly praised all things ridiculous.

Speaking of ridiculous - her next statement or rather request was exactly that. Rosier would rather take his house elf to the zoo and for a picnic than go shopping with Naila Ferrari. The woman's taste in clothing was the gaudiest thing ever. No, the only person who had the right to tell him what to wear was Darian Morgan and only because he was a competent tailor. He let her have her fun with his collar. He smirked, thinking how women always liked touching and poking him as if he were some sort of a cute, lost puppy.

"Not a fan of snakes," he said coldly, trying not to picture what Naila just suggested in his head. "Also, something tells me the Minister wouldn't appreciate it. Though, it might chase away the horrid Auror trainees away..." He needed more champagne!

"We should go find a time-turner then," she took an sarcastically posh sip of her champagne before she swatted a blonde strand of hair from her face as she calmly added, " Then I'm sure they'd be the same story." She smirked as she cast a sidelong glance at Rosier and then put her drink down and combed her hair back with her slender fingers.

"Would you prefer I train a dragon for you, then?" she sighed as Rosier went to talk about office woes--work work work, ,it's all the man complained about it like a cranky husband, "You can put it at the entrance to level 3 and have it act mean and ferocious to new trainees and snort smoke at anyone else who isn't an Auror."  Then she gestured behind the counter towards an ebony bottle of whiskey with a fiery label on it, "Though I think with firewhiskey you could do that on your own..." she gave Rosier a once over again before her eyes landed on the man's drink, which seemed be turning to an empty glass.

"Cameron, really, if you drown yourself with champagne any faster the only thing you're going to hear me say is a bunch of garble about how a thestral ran off with a bartender and two bottles of whiskey," Which wasn't actually that far from the truth, but she still had to fill her quota of teasing for the night since the man was not keen on following her fashion advice or go shopping with her anytime soon.