Title taken from the Los Campesinos! song "Romance is Boring."  Have a listen here.  Very much a Margo song!

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Being the “savvy” business owner that she was, Margo Amherst never turned down the opportunity to plug her newest venture: Death & Company.  It was her heart and soul in bar form and only made possible by the dedication of her siblings that did not want to see how much further she could slide down the rabbit hole (their words – not hers).  Apparently, a lot of people shared the thought that Margo had some more growing up to do.   

Well! She showed them.

She ran her busoiness and managed to have fun.  (Though if one were going to be completely honest, running the business was a bit of a stretch.)  Regardless, when Valentine’s became a thing, Margo knew she did not want to host anything serious for it.

She had always hated Valentien’s Day.  Though, she did love drinking on it.  So, she’d teamed up (because it was the thing to do) and offered drink specials at this shindig at Rover’s – her old haunt before she opened her own place.  Unfortunately, she had unwittingly also agreed to participate in this. 

So, she’d placed all the cards for drink specials (take advantage! Her mind screamed) and then received the name of the person she was supposed to be meeting with.  Tracey?  Margo had shrugged.  Weird for a guy, but she guessed she could deal with it!  After all, a laugh or two? That was all she really wanted. 

When she kept the look out, to be honest, she was sort of surprised: really?  Truly?  This was what was happening.  Well damn.  That was one of the smoothest baby faces she’d ever seen.  Swigging back the rest of her drink, she placed it on the bar before she hoped down from the stool: “You even old enough to drink?” she greeted with an extended hand.  No one said she was the best at first impressions.  At all. Ever.

Tracy laughed. Against the dark expanse of his skin, teeth flashed brilliantly white as he shook her hand, before settling into a crooked grin. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

The first time the flier had caught his eye, Tracy had only glanced at it—quirked his mouth into a smile, wished whoever participated the best of luck in finding whatever they were hoping—but ultimately putting it out of his mind as he focused on getting home. On a regular day he had no problems meeting someone new, and even when he hadn’t, he was content. As much as he loved having someone to dote on and support, the same could be found with family and friends. There was more than one type of love. They were his valentines.

But after the tenth or twelfth time of coming home to an empty flat – setting the table for one, wondering how Vladlena was doing, even Jordyn and Jai – he had realized he was, maybe, a little lonely.

Blind dating wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was a start. Even if nothing were to come from it, it was nice to be around people, especially in a setting so atmospheric. And many of them were familiar, too: Elliot, from Flourish & Blotts; his good friend Migs…

Brows rose at the sight of a familiar head of half-black, half-white hair, but after a moment of thought Tracy decided even frosty Healers got lonely.

Margo, too, he recognized—if not from November, then definitely since Death & Company first opened its doors. Tracy didn’t drink much but he liked going out, and the bar had always seemed like a good place to relax. He was happy to see that she’d taken to her new limb as if it was her own; it was easy to note how it hung at her side, loose and natural.

“An’ speaking of which… I’mma get one.” With a smaller but no less present grin, he looked to the bar. He glanced back at Margo and let a corner tick upwards teasingly. “Join me? Or have you had yours already?”

“Join me? Or have you had yours already?”

Margo laughed at loud.

She now recognized him, after he spoke, as one of the healers at St. Mungo’s – she idly wondered if she’d ever throw anything at him during her stay.  Probably not.  That was usually mediwitches.  But still…

He’d more likely remember it than she would. 

But, that wasn’t the point: drinking! That was the point.  Once he’d confirmed that he was old enough to be at a place like this, Margo figured that had to be true and smirked to herself.  What would Rosheen or Charlotte have said?  She couldn’t wait to find out.  She was sure she’d get some story out of this. 

“There’s no end to mine,” she grinned (without a trace of anything but innocence, obviously) and turned her eyes back toward the bar.  “You up for a pint or want something a little stronger?  Shake those pre-date jitters?”  She was sizing him up, of course – it was necessary to know what she was up against.  Or potentially up against.  She’d probably feel like a right cougar, but she did suppose that what this whole thing was about. Well, not cougars… but she knew what she meant! 

Motioning to the bartender wearing the horrible seasonal tie (Margo detested anything that reeked of traditional Valentine’s Day, she ordered her own whiskey – as she was the type to do and then turned to her ‘date,’ “and what’ll you have?” she smirked and leaned against the bar. 

“I reckon it’d best be strong, eh?”  she motioned about, "what to stand all of this," pink and red junk was around - obviously they wanted to really embrace the season.  Thankfully, it was only a little less horrible than that terrible Puddifoot's in Hogsmeade.  She'd been terrified of it as a student... still was, to be perfectly honest, as Margo was pretty much allergic to anything that resembled lasting love and romance.  "Right?"