With calculating ice-blue eyes, Victoria watched the two men interacting in the bar. The waitress hadn’t yet taken their order, and it was time for her to make her move. She ordered two weak drinks, taking special care that no one was looking when she poured out a vial of a poisonous concoction she’d come up with the other day.

In testing it, she found that the recipient of the poison would experience severe pain; almost to the point where they felt as if they were going to die. It mimicked the effects of flu; chills, aches, sweats, fever; the works. It was hell in a vial.

When Victoria felt that she had gathered enough evidence on it, she tested it on herself. But she only lasted a good five minutes before drawing blood to search for signs of the potion.

Shakily, she had tested it and found no trace in her blood, nor did it emit a smell. It took a week before Victoria’s collected blood sample finally showed a trace of the poison; and by then she had already cured herself with the antidote she had made.

And so her plan began. Antidote on hand, she prepared to deliver the drinks to Mark and James, making sure that the poisoned drink would be given to Mark. Standing up and smoothing the folds in her fake waitress’ apron, she picked up the drinks and walked over with a false smile.

“’Ere you go, gents. S’on the ‘ouse,” she said, “Enjoy!” She grinned, especially in James’ direction; why did attractive men always have lousy taste in friends? With such a full house, she was positive no one would notice the fact that she did not actually work here.

"So, I told him, 'Colin, just because the frog was in the backyard doesn't mean it's ours to keep!'" Mark joked, sitting next to James at the bar happily. It was a drink to ring in the new year. And Mark couldn't have been happier to be sitting with his best friend, on a lovely day like today. "I'm telling you, the kid won't leave the backyard! We've gotta carry him in to the house to get him inside!" He told his friend, speaking of his little brother.

Just as they were conversing, a waitress walked up, placing two drinks by them. Mark looked up. "Oh, I'm sorry. We haven't ordered yet. I think you've made a mistake." He called, looking over to James to see how he was doing with the waitress staring at him.

James laughed as Mark told the story of his adorable baby brother. It was hard to think that Mark was engaged. It had only been yesterday when the two boys had hopped onto the train to Hogwarts, and stepped off as graduated wizards? Jim had felt a little crushed that mark hadn't told him first, but, he was happy for his best friend. Just to keep the happy mood, James was even thinking about ordering water, instead of alcohol.

But when the drop-dead gorgeous waitress came, over, he changed his mind. He placed to curiously colored drinks in front of them. "Must be some sort of holiday, huh? Free drinks from a beautiful girl aren't common, you know?" Jim said, taking the glass in hand, and swirling the contents around a bit before raising the glass to his lips and the extremely fruity scent invaded his nostrils.

The cocktail glided over his tongue, and he swallowed. "That's a very good drink, I don't normally go for the fruity stuff, but that...that is really good." Jim placed the glass down, impressed with the drink-making skills of this barmaid, he'd have to give her a large tip.

Victoria bristled at Mark’s blunt remark, but she put on her best smile anyways; small enough to conceal her sharp canines of course. Couldn’t have nosy boys poking around where they didn’t belong, ‘specially not in Victoria’s littl’ box o’ secrets.

Her naturally bad attitude wasn’t helped when James called her a girl.

Being called beautiful was a nice sentiment, even for the hardened Were, but she still didn’t take kindly ta’ people refferin’ to her as a girl. It reminded her of her father and his routine way of callin’ her his littl’ lass. Annoying and endearing at the same damn time.

“Thank you,” she said in her best cheery voice. “Can’t be runnin’ bout in this day an’ age without knowing how ta’ mix a proper drink, though some people beg to differ ‘round here.”

She eyed Mark’s glass cautiously, adopting her fake smile again. “Drink up, sweetheart; can’t let your friend get ahead of you,” she said with an airy, girly laugh. It made her want to gag, but she didn’t.

“Say, I think I’ve seen ya ‘round Knockturn before,” she said curiously, raising an eyebrow in Mark’s direction. “Or maybe your face is just a bit familiar,” she shrugged, “you run ‘round those parts?”

The waitress seemed occupied with James, as Mark glanced around the busy pub. He had been here before, but hadn't remembered seeing the waitress around. Then again, she could just be new to the bar, or something like that. Mark wasn't about to question the poor girl who seemed a little too bubbly for her own good.

“Drink up, sweetheart; can’t let your friend get ahead of you,”

He heard the girl laugh, and looked down at the drink that sat on the bar. It was a free drink. And James had already drank his.  Mark slowly picked up the glass and brought it to his lips. It was a sweet drink, much like one that Julie would enjoy. Mark, not so much. But the glass was small, and the conversation was dull, so it didn't take long for him to down the glass of the sweet poison.

“Say, I think I’ve seen ya ‘round Knockturn before...Or maybe your face is just a bit familiar...you run ‘round those parts?”

Mark swallowed hard as he put the glass down. He hated it when people remembered him. The whole idea of crime was that no one knew who you were. That no one asked questions and no one cared. He had to cover his tracks. "Oh, I don't know. I- uh, I rarely visit knockturn, mostly, I just sell my potions on Diagon." He quickly covered.

“Can’t be runnin’ bout in this day an’ age without knowing how ta’ mix a proper drink, though some people beg to differ ‘round here.”

Jim lifted his glass. "I'll drink to that." he sipped is extremely sweet beverage and placed it down on his coaster. Mark was a little off-balance, it was his work that put that kind of tension on him, but this might have been a little more than that, if Mark was downing drinks faster than Jim, it was gonna be a difficult afternoon. Jim tried to help along Mark's cover. "Markie here makes the best Blemish Blitzer[1] that money can buy!"

Jim didn't care for Mark's choice in profession, it actually shocked him that Mark had gone to the dark side before he himself did, but he also didn't care about his friend's job, as long as he didn't get stabbed, shot, hexed, or poisoned, he was okay.

1.	A potion that most likely gets rid of acne.

"Aye, must be mistakin' ya for a different gent." Victoria said, tight-lipped. She wasn't stupid enough to not watch her prey before she closed in on them. The fellow criminal knew about Mark's recent activities and his new found hobbies, especially the illegal ones.

It was a pity that he was in her way, she would 'ave liked to scare him up a bit more before tryin' to kill 'im. She smiled again; a bright, white, sharp toothy grin. "Anyways, it'was nice ta meet both of you, but I'm afraid the shift just ended for me."

And right on time did the clock hit five o'clock in the evenin'. Technically it was sort of happy hour, as some of the people here liked to call it. The discrepancy in shift ending wasn't irregular though, the next shift of people attendin' to the packed bar would be getting here about this time.

Victoria was in the clear. "'Ave a good evenin'." She tilted her head, a glint in her eye before she stalked off, faking a pass to go back behind the bar and making for the streets instead.

She ditched her false white apron in the trash and threw her hair clip in after it, shaking out her false strawberry-blonde curls. Someone tried to approach her before she left, and he was undoubtedly drunk so she thought on her feet; "Ain't playin' for your team, kid." The man looked confused as Victoria made her exit; disappearing into the small flurry of people passing by.

Mission accomplished.

Mark rolled his eyes as the waitress walked off, unimpressed by the service. Such could be expected in the bar that he was in. He knew the type of people that worked there, and none of them were too enthusiastic. He stared down at the glass, as dizziness set in with minor nausea. He suddenly had chills running up his spine, when he looked over to his best friend. He shook his head trying to correct his vision.

"Man, that drink really upset my stomach. All that sugar. I don't get how Julie can drink that stuff normally." He joked with a smile. But he was getting more symptoms. His neck started to tense up, so he rolled his head, trying to free up the knots. "I feel like crap. This is weird." He remarked. "I felt fine this morning."

Jim frowned as the barmaid walked away, not giving him a second glance. He sipped his drink, a small scowl covering his handsome face. He looked at the bar mirror, his reflection staring back at him. He turned his head as mark began to speak again. "Hey, dude, you're sweating, you want some water or something?" Without waiting for a response, James turned to the bartender whom had recently returned to his post for happy hour and ordered a cup of iced water.

The man grunted and slid a glass onto the counter, and used his wand to fill the glass. "Thank you." Jim said, handing the glass to Mark, "Do you think it's time to head back to your place?" James said, concern replaced discontent on his face as he looked as his suffering friend.

Mark took a sip of the water, with a nod to his friend. "Thanks." He sipped it, before standing up, clutching his stomach. He was holding the glass on the bar, as he went to leave the stool. When Mark put his feet on the ground, a strong wave of nausea came over him. "Oh god," was all he got to muster before emptying his stomach contents on to the ground.

He stood back up, clutching the bar tightly, as he shot his friend a nervous look. "Something's not right, James." He said, bending down, one hand on the bar, and the other on his stomach. He then got a painful jab in his stomach along with some burning. He shut his eyes tightly, in pain, and gritted his teeth, before looking back to his friend. "James, I've got a tough mission for you. Something's not right. In that drink. Get me to Saint Mungo's, pronto, and get Julie." He said.

It was at that point that Mark realized he had been poisoned, and that it may have been the last scene in the play of Mark Hunter's life.

Jim watched in stunned terror as Mark keeled over, grasping his stomach. James hopped off his bar stool, and put a hand on his friend'd back. He had had the same drink, and he didn't feel anything. Mark threw up on the floor and Jim cringed. He had seen his friend puke one too many times in the past few months.

"Something's not right, James."

James quickly put a gold galleon onto the counter and stood, helpless as his friend suffered and grit his teeth. James took his wand out of his pocket, then decided that it would be better to walk, he didn't want to risk Mark getting splinched. "Okay, uh, can you walk without too much pain?" James asked, knowing already it was a stupid question. He then overruled his previous thoughts and aparated to St. Mungo's.