6 pm

With all of the time that Chris spent in the Spell Experimentation and Research Office in the Department of Mysteries, it felt almost as if he lived there. During his time working, he would always be able to catch glimpses of Theta. On some days, he was there later and he managed to leave a little bit earlier other days.They would even sneak away and talk to each other every now and then. It was a great thing, in his opinion.

Today was one of those days that he left earlier. Whenever he left the Ministry, Chris would normally hang around Diagon Alley and finish up his business around there. Normally, he was able to accomplish just about everything that he was possibly thinking about doing there. Alas, he was quite simple with those ideas. But, for today, he had decided to apparate over to Hogsmeade, over visiting Diagon Alley again. It was something different, at least.

The streets of Hogsmeade were just as busy as they were when he was in Hogwarts. As he walked on the cobblestone street, Chris looked around a bit as he wondered where to stop. Shrugging, he decided to stop at the Three Broomsticks. It wouldn't hurt to get a drink. Entering the pub, he walked straight over to the bar. After sitting down on one of the stools, he picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet that was on the counter as he waited for the barmaid.

It was finally Christmas week at last, and it seemed like every Wizard in Britain and his hairy aunt Bertha had chosen today to scour the streets of Hogsmeade for last minute gifts. Bethan always thought that Scrivenshafts was the sort of place you stopped in to buy gifts for people who you didn't know well enough to purchase a proper present for, or for people who couldn't be arsed to actually think of something clever to get the people they did know. Naturally, Scrivenshafts was mobbed with obligation-bound half-arsers – and when Scrivenshafts was mobbed, The Three Broomsticks tended to fill up with those who thought it wise to pop in for a bite after waiting on line to have their fancy ornamental quills gift wrapped. There was, after all, nothing in the world quite like an impersonal gift chosen specifically for its vagueness, wrapped by a stranger, and given out of obligation, right? Luckily, there were waitresses working today, so Beth got the privilege of hiding behind the bar for her whole shift, where she could spend her time twittering at the patrons brave enough to sit within her reach.

She didn't notice Chris right away. There was a crowd, after all, and the place seemed even more packed with all of the packages and parcels and heavy cloaks and clunky boots that had come along with their human charges. Generally when someone chose to sit at the bar they were the sort who had the tenacity to wave the barmaid over as soon as their bum met the seat. Apparently Chris was not that kind of patron and, hidden behind his newspaper, a cursory glance suggested to the blonde that he was already taken care of. It wasn't until the slightly harried girl, her most recent order complete, took a second to sweep the bar and make sure nobody needed anything that she realized that she hadn't even seen him come in. She wasted no time sauntering over to where he sat, crossing her arms over her chest as she stopped in front of him.

“Hiya!” she greeted him, looking pleasant enough considering how congested the place felt. “Have you been here long? I likely walked past you five or six times before I noticed you. You just sort of blend in, like, don't you?” she asked, wiping her hands on the half apron tied around her hips. “Didn't mean anything by it, I swear. It's just busy, is all, and you were quiet.” She glanced around the room. It always felt busier when there were a bunch of orders waiting to be filled, but once the majority had ordered then suddenly the crowd was just a crowd – there was nothing particularly urgent about a big mob of people. She liked them far better when they didn't need anything from her. She looked back to Chris. “Well, what can I get for you? I promise I'll make it fast to make up for being distracted - well, if you're drinking, anyway. I don't have much pull in the kitchen, I'm sad to say.”

During the Holidays, it was always hard to walk around anywhere in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley for that matter. The closer and closer it came to Christmas, the worse it became. All of the people and their last minute gifts. It was a rather sad sight indeed to see. All of these people weren't prepared to do their shopping earlier. They were also the type of have a fit at just about anything going wrong on their journey to find a gift, any gift by this point.

Thankfully, Chris had been pretty smart when it came to buying gifts. He didn't do it too early, but not too late either. No, he opted to complete his shopping earlier in December. He hated crowds, and undoubtedly, it made completing anything that much longer. But, he finished shopping for his family, friends, and Theta already. So, any travel that he completed at all now was for leisure, or to go drinking a little in this case. Unfortunately, that still meant having to deal with crowds of annoying people and long lines. But, he managed to find a seat at the bar relatively quickly.

An avid reader while in Hogwarts and even now outside of Hogwarts, Chris was immediately drawn to the Daily Prophet that was left on the counter. While all the other customers at the bar demanded drinks and whatnot immediately, he chose the rather quiet and least disruptive activity: reading. He wasn't even aware that Beth had came over to him, as he scanned the headlines after turning a page. Surprised at the sudden greeting, he looked up from the paper and saw Beth in front of him behind the counter.

"Hi, uh, sorry. I came in and saw the Prophet laying on the counter that I didn't think anything of it to just pick it up and just start reading it," he offered as an explanation, which was a rather true explanation at that. She admitted that he apparently blended in with the crowd in the pub. "Don't worry about it," he offered with a grin and a shrug, as he folded back up the paper and set it back on the bar counter. He wasn't exactly a social butterfly to begin with. His job as an unspeakable meant that he couldn't disclose what it was that he exactly did at work. So, all of this no talking tendencies just seemed to override each other in big crowds, such as in the pub. "Oh, right, yes. Um, just a fire whiskey for now, thanks," he responded to her offer.

“Oh, don't stop reading on account of me. Someone's got to read the thing so I can ask them about the news,” Beth smirked, leaning over the counter to glance at the headline, which didn't hold her attention for any longer than it took to read it. There was certain news she was interested in, and certain news that she couldn't be bothered with and, to be honest, the majority of the news fell into the latter category. If it wasn't murder, violence, or involving her in some way, she generally skimmed. That was a perk of the position, though – all she had to do was stand there and she was likely to get the news delivered to her, straight from the mouths of the patrons. Additionally, it was a good sort of post for a gossip, but Beth cared less about torrid love affairs and busted up relationships than she did about funding and political quackery. She did like talking, though. She wouldn't have lasted five minutes in Chris's position.

”"Oh, right, yes. Um, just a fire whiskey for now, thanks.”

“Now, let me ask you – are you ordering a firewhiskey cause you fancy drinking firewhiskey, or are you ordering firewhiskey because you're trying to blend in? Because that's what I know about you knowing you for thirty seconds, like – you're one of those chameleons,” she grinned, even as she summoned a clean glass, which slid toward her like a monorail on its track, dodging the beverages already set on the bar. “Though, to tell you the truth, mate, I think I know your face. We went to school together, isn't it? Thing is, I've got your face in my memory, but not any sound,” she explained, snagging the bottle of firewhiskey from behind her, “which means we probably never talked or nothing.” She made quick work pouring the firewhiskey into the glass and set it in front of him. She studied his face for a moment, not seeming to care if it was odd or awkward, and then nodded slowly a few times, having placed him. 

Chris couldn't help but to chuckle when Beth told him not to stop reading on account of her. "Half the time, the headlines need just a quick glance over. It usually isn't that interesting to sustain a long conversation," he shrugged. In his line of work, there was very little written in the Prophet that he would find interesting. Of course, he couldn't talk about his work or his coworkers' work to anyone outside of the department. That was just a rather annoying downside. Nonetheless, he wasn't a social butterfly like Beth was. He could usually watch his tongue.

Shaking his head, he gave Beth a grin. "If I was planning on blending in, I would still be reading the Prophet and making an attempt to hide my identity. I don't drink much, but I do enjoy it every so often," Chris responded. His line of work rarely made it necessary for him to sneak around and blend in. Heck, he was usually hiding in level 9 of the Ministry of Magic. He nodded to her sentiment of seeing him before. "Yeah, I think I've seen you before as well. To tell you the truth, I dunno," he responded with a shrug. Being uncomfortable with being stared at, he let his eyes fall to the glass given to him. Pulling out some money, he paid Beth for the drink.

“We went to school together, definitely,” Beth insisted, sounding so sure of this that, even if he'd been home schooled in a bubble on the moon, the bloke would have had to wonder if maybe she'd been there, too. “Hufflepuff? No! Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw? Ravenclaw,” she affirmed, nodding to herself, a small and smug smile forming on her lips. “I should have known right away, with the reading,” she announced, producing a solitary 'ha!” of amusement. She couldn't have come up with his name in a million years, but she was still proud of herself for remembering any detail at all! And people said she was aloof and unfocused!

“I can keep a tab, you know, unless you just want one drink,” she remarked as she looked down at the coins he'd set upon the counter. He'd said he didn't drink much, but she didn't think he'd meant quantity-wise. Beth didn't stand and dwell on the money aspect, however, because it was the least interesting aspect of the job. “So you're clearly not drinking to get drunk, yet you order a firewhiskey straight,” she remarked, considering this. “When I drink to relax, I try and avoid the hard stuff, but what do I know? I just like things to taste good. You can call me a wimp, but I think I'm clever.” 

Beth's rather certain answer was met by a nod from him. Indeed, Chris was sure that he went to school with her. Yes, she looked familiar to him. He couldn't help but to let out a slight chuckle as she guessed his house. Apparently, he fit the stereotypes of his house with the reading and blending into his surroundings. For that matter, she rather sure of it too. "Yes, Ravenclaw," he responded with a smile, "And, I'm Chris by the way." He figured that it was best to reintroduce himself to her. After all, names were the harder pieces of information to remember.

Chris simply shrugged at her idea of keeping a tab. That would be one thing if he was intending on drinking himself silly. But, he wasn't planning on it, and thus felt like he didn't need to bother with that. "I'm a strange person like that, but I find this to relax me more than the lighter stuff," he shrugged, before taking a sip of the fire whiskey. "I guess it depends on your mood at the time," he remarked.

“Chriiiisssssssss,” she repeated, drawing the name out like it was a foreign word that she'd never heard before. She looked him in the face as she said it, trying to match his face with his name. Once she finished hissing, she nodded, seeming to find it a sufficient label. “Do you remember me?” she asked hopefully, but she didn't so much as pause for a response. “Gryffindor! Bethan Ellis!”she exclaimed, beaming. Beth was Beth's favorite topic in the whole wide world, and she relished any opportunity to shout her name from the rooftops. “Merlin, school feels like it was forever ago already. Sometimes I feel like walking up the road and slipping into the castle, just to see if anybody notices I don't belong there. I reckon it wouldn't take too long to get all swept up in things again, like. I may not have always liked it, but I was always busy,” she rambled on, feeling nostalgic for a school she often complained about. It was funny the way that went sometimes.

Taking his word that he only wanted one drink, she slid the coins off of the counter and into her waiting palm, slipping away to put them in the till. She was held up for a few moments and didn't return straight away. One of the guests who'd been staying at the inn stopped by the bar to return his room key, and she had to scurry to get it back to the proper hook in the back office. She was stopped twice on her way, however – once by someone asking for a soft drink, which she doled out without a problem, and once when she heard glass breaking and had to go track down the broken vessel and repair it. By the time she was behind the bar again, coins jingling in her apron pocket, she looked considerably more frazzled.

 Bustling back to where Chris was seated, she glanced at him in a way that suggested that she had something to say on the tip of her tongue... or that she was just about to sneeze. Realization snapped into her eyes, however, and she shoved her whole hand into her apron pocket. “Change! That's what I was doing! Sorry about that. That's the one thing I like about this place – never a dull moment, like,” she explained, pushing his change toward him on the bar. Some hair had escaped from her ponytail and she pushed it behind her ear. “So...” she spoke, trying to pick up where she'd left off. The trouble was, she couldn't remember what they'd been talking about. Hogwarts? World War II? Seamonkeys? She couldn't have said. “What was it you said you did again?”

As Beth sounded out his name in a long and drawled out fashion, Chris gave her a surprised look. His name was certainly not that interesting to sound out in any particular way. For that matter, it was certainly possible that there were others from Hogwarts with his same first name. So, he found it rather surprising that she would sound it out. But, if it helped her place him from their times in Hogwarts, it probably would have been for the better.

Did he remember her? Well, yes, kind of. He knew that he saw her before. As for her name, he wasn't the best when it came to full memorization of names. After all, there was a lot of people that he knew, let alone the students from Hogwarts that he met from his schooldays. But, Beth didn't give him much time to answer her, before launching into her house and her name. Ah, a Gryffindor. He should have noticed already. Perhaps it was his feeling of lethargy from his job. "Ah, yes, Beth," he repeated, nodding in the process. Indeed, he remembered that name. "I know what you mean. Everything was just so bustling all the time," he agreed with her.

After taking the money that he left, Beth went off to place the money into the till and seemed to be called by other patrons in the pub. Despite the rather random experiments made in his department at the Ministry, he much rather would prefer that to having to run around dealing with the people that came into the various shops in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley. Picking up the glass, he took another sip. Stealing a quick glance around, the vast number of people in the pub. Yes, it was definitely busy.

Turning back around, Chris noticed that Beth seemed to be more frazzled than before. Indeed, there appeared the be a lot of stress for her job. She seemed to remember his change, that must have momentarily skipped her mind. He nodded to her explanation. It was funny how she was just explaining a little while ago that he missed how there was never a dull moment at Hogwarts, which seemed to be just the same here. Perhaps that was why she accepted the job? Nevertheless, it was very interesting. "What do I do?" he repeated, "I work in the Department of Mysteries."

“Department of Mysteries, huh?” Beth asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She took a moment to search her brain for any tidbits or banter related to his department, but she couldn't think of anything. The Department of Mysteries was, well... mysterious – so mysterious that even someone like Beth, who absolutely loved jamming her nose where it didn't belong, didn't know the first thing about it. She sucked on her teeth for a moment and glanced at Chris again. Low-key. It made sense to her that he'd work in a mysterious department of mysterious things. He was everyman! He was invisible! He was also instantly more interesting to her. She pitched her body forward slightly, clearly curious.

“Can I ask you a question?” Beth asked, not pausing long enough to allow for a response – she was going to ask whether he wanted her to or not. She launched right in. “So this department is mysterious, yeah? Department of Mysteries. The only thing people know about it is that it exists. You probably haven't even been working there a whole year yet, am I right?” Beth asked, cocking her head to the side inquisitively. Her line of questioning wasn't done yet, though, so she went on. “So you must've known right out of school that you wanted to work there, like. But... but how? How could you know you wanted to work for the Department of Mysteries? What they do is a mystery, yeah? So how do you know if you like it? Or if you're good at it, even?” she asked, her words coming rapidly, clearly intrigued by this mystery within a mystery. “That's what I want to know,” she concluded, looking to Chris for a response.

Chris nodded to Beth's confirmation that he worked in the Department of Mysteries. "Yep." It was a rather odd department for sure, but what department in the Ministry wasn't odd anyway? Nevertheless, that was his current job. It didn't occur to him that non-Ministry wizards and witches, like Beth, knew next to nothing about the Department of Mysteries. Most of his time was spent holed up in his office surrounded with like-minded people. For that matter, Theta also worked in the Department of Mysteries. Come to think of it, he had very little interaction with others outside of the Ministry as a whole.

Beth asked if she could ask him a question. Just as he was about to respond, she immediately launched right into her question. Actually, questions was more like it. Indeed, she was definitely very curious. "Well, uh, I wouldn't exactly call the department itself mysterious. All the work is mysterious though. I have been there for a bit over a year," he responded at first. She didn't give him too much of a break, before launching into another set of questions. Yes, Beth was indeed curious. His memory of Beth from Hogwarts was definitely returning with the silhouette of a deeply curious girl.

"My father's an auror, and was the one inquiring about a job per my request. As it is, I'm technically a trainee there to begin with. From my time in Hogwarts, I liked spells and researching them. My best NEWTs were in the courses dealing with spells. My job is based off of that, so I was pretty sure that I'd like it. Anyway, most people are rather curious and wonder what we do in that department. I'm sure that just about anyone would be more than willing to go down there at least and check it out if they were given the opportunity," he responded with a shrug. "Trust me, it isn't as glorious as you might think," he added. He wasn't allowed to discuss what he was working on to begin with, and thus couldn't take credit for particularly discovering things. Of course, that was naturally outside of his department.

It was a good thing Chris hadn't actually gone into detail unveiling the deepest and most intriguing secrets of the Department of Mysteries, because Bethan had more or less stopped paying attention after he'd explained that his father was an auror. As interesting as the Department of Mysteries likely was, she found those who had managed to achieve her elusive dream far more fascinating. So, not only did aurors get to hunt down dark wizards and hang them by their entrails (or so she liked to think), they also got to go poking around the Department of Mysteries and could get their children jobs like it was nothing? Granted, Beth's da had gotten her brother a job, but that was because he owned a share of the business. Owen wanted to go into her father's field – he knew what it entailed and was qualified. That, she figured, was different. Beth still wasn't sure what it meant to be qualified to work for the Department of Mysteries. Luckily, she'd forgotten she'd ever cared. Such was the nature of an easily distracted mind.

“So your da's an auror, huh?” Beth asked, effectively ignoring 90% of what he'd just said. “I'll be an auror, too, when they let me. Nothing mysterious about that, like,” she grinned, taking a few steps away to clear the glasses left behind by the two blokes who'd been occupying the stools right beside him. She set to work on the cleaning charms as she continued speaking, the task so second nature that, not only could she accomplish it wordlessly, but without pausing the conversation. “I'd start training now if I could, but that's not likely to happen until next Fall, so I just spend all my time behind the bar telling people what I'd rather be doing,” she smirked, clearly making a joke at her own expense. She did seem to have this conversation rather frequently. “There are worse gigs, isn't it? And if they ever need someone to mix drinks down at the ministry, I'll be overqualified for something for a change.” Having finished her task, she set the clean glasses back with the rest and tucked her wand back into her apron pocket.  The day she gave her notice and got to light the bloody thing on fire could not come soon enough.

"So your da's an auror, huh?"

At hearing that rather simple question, Chris believed that Beth probably wasn't listening to most of what he said. Even if he had divulged into the department's secrets, it was incredibly unlikely that she would have paid attention to any of it. Nevertheless, he had to be careful. Anyone could possibly over hear them, especially in the pub at such a busy moment. Thankfully, and for his own sanity for that matter, it didn't seem to have an effect on Beth.

Letting out a chuckle, he nodded at Beth's simple question. "Yes, yes he is." She then went right into her motive for focusing on one piece of information that quite frankly didn't even really involve him. He was particularly used to being relatively silent at his job, that it didn't bother him much that she barely listened to a majority of what he said. But, it sounded as if she wanted to be an auror herself. The key words that she said were if they let her. Apparently something didn't go as planned to her training to be an auror.

Instead of interrupting Beth, he let her finish out her exclamation about training to be an auror. "Just because the auror training wouldn't start until next Fall doesn't mean that you still shouldn't brush up on the necessary spells, or even practice them. I mean, aurors need near perfect execution of their spells at any given moment. So, I would imagine that practicing spells, other than those needed for bar keeping, would help make the training that much more smoother," he added as advice for her. "And, if you don't mind me asking, but why would the Ministry not let you be an auror?" he asked curiously.

“Oh, I'm practicing all kinds of things,” Beth replied instantly, the second Chris paused to breathe. She didn't want anybody thinking she was some dope who expected to get picked up by the ministry based on desire alone – she'd learned the hard way that wanting it badly wasn't always enough, and it still pissed her off. “I don't work until the afternoon most days, and sometimes I'm not scheduled until the dinner shift, so while I'm home I've been revising. I've got books and everything!” she explained quite proudly. Books! It was slightly absurd that Bethan of all people was hitting the books after finishing at Hogwarts (and, honestly, she hit the books harder on some days than she did on others – some days she just hit things with the books), but she was motivated enough to attempt it. She had never been the best student, even in the areas she succeeded in – she just wasn't made for the 'sitting in a chair and shutting up' lifestyle – but she was a decent witch, and a better duelist, and she had more than enough naive confidence to help her out. “Well, I haven't been working on potions so much, if you want to know the truth, but that's just because I messed my cauldron up real good and I just keep forgetting to take it in to get the bottom replaced. I can't see why I need potions, anyway. It even feels like a waste.”

”And, if you don't mind me asking, but why would the Ministry not let you be an auror?”

“Because the ministry thinks NEWT results are more important than actual skills, that's why,” she responded bitterly, her lip curling with distaste. “I'm resitting a few. Not all, just a few. I think they're missing out, but they say they need it on paper, so it's their loss, like,” she grumbled with a shrug. If they would have just let her train with them then she was sure she would have picked up a lot more by now than she could get from some idiotic potions textbook. She wasn't a big reader, and she wasn't any sort of gifted potioneer – she just didn't have the temperament for it. She was far better at mixing drinks. She was even an okay cook, having grown up in a house with her mother, who lauded herself on her skills as a homemaker, but potions didn't come as naturally. She didn't want to make potions all day. She wanted to duel to the death! “They won't say no to me twice. I know they won't.”

Chris looked over at Beth as she seemed to respond defensively rather fast. He nodded to her exclamation. At the very least, she was practicing. Even though he wasn't familiar with the whole auror training process, he certainly remembered the difficulty of the NEWT exams that he took. Of course, practicing wasn't enough, otherwise she would have passed the first time. Ah, and she had books! Quite frankly, it seemed a little strange to hear that she would study from books. Hadn't she just criticized him for that very idea of reading books, and then immediately deciding that he was indeed a Ravenclaw?

"As I'm sure you know, practicing spells and reading about them is great and all. But, the training's going to need precision and understanding of the various applications," he reminded Beth. He stated those facts, not as a means to scare her, but to remind her of the hard work. After all, working as an auror wasn't an easy career to take up. "I would imagine that Potions are rather important to that line of work. Although, there is no need to burn yourself out by fretting around with the different coursework. You do still have time to learn enough of spells to actually begin looking at Potions again," he attempted to reassure her.

At Beth's admission that her NEWT scores weren't up to the high standards set for potential auror trainees, he listened intently at her rather bitter statements. "Well, those scores are a bit high, but they're supposed to measure your actual skills. So, I guess that it's not at a complete waste of time," he attempted to offer as sympathetic.