Past 10pm, Inside Puddifoot's

"... last but not least," Tristan Vaillancourt[1] spoke from a table of Ministry officials by the windows, "I would like to thank the good Madam Puddifoot for putting up with our morbid inclinations this evening, and for providing such flavoursome fare to both being and non-being."

He deftly picked up a bone ivory saucer from the dainty place setting, lifting the cup by its tiny handle to toast the other attendees of the night's blood donation event. Although there were still wizards and witches entering or leaving the establishment, the movements had paused for the vampire's brief little speech. The outside marquee from that afternoon's blood drive was still receiving volunteers.

Those who had already donated were welcome to join any of the many, many round tea tables that populated the main floor of Pudifoot's. It was a charming affair. Floral centrepieces and lace table clothes. Fine china, tea pots and creamer jugs glinting in what moonlight came through the windows. Lighting was otherwise muted and atmospheric: a surefooted decision that allowed darkness to prevail.

While most guests were human, there were also several of Tristan's kind amongst them. They did not drink tea but a bergamot infused brew of blood that had been prepared especially for the occasion.  Nothing too plentiful, considering the shortage.

He lowered his cup to the saucer with a soft clink after the guests had joined him in his toast, and finally returned to his seat to join the others at his table. "And I believe that is the last of my official duties executed," Tristan exclaimed agreeably before helping himself to another sip. His lips were stained red.

1.	Polyvore Attire

It had been implied, heavily, that if appropriate reparations were to be made and bridges mended, that Puddifoots was exactly where Nadine was to be that evening. Back home, her partner was enjoying yet another night alone. Nadine would very much have preferred to have been there with him, rather than here though. Recent events had made her more conscious of spending time with loved ones.

She gave a thinly-lipped smile across the round tea table, past the centrepiece of chrysanthemums and assorted blooms. There were more than a few levels at play here, she had reflected while surveying tea choices and china. Here was a blood drive for vampires currently at risk of hunger due to low levels in the St Mungo’s bank. That low level, Nadine knew internally to be due to her former father and mother in law’s insanity over dark magic. That low level could also have contributed to the drinking dry of two Muggles in Whitechapel, which in turn led to Nadine and Ed spending a perfectly painful and prickly day with Penelope Pickler because of the vampire addressing the crowd with his teacup, and his boss, sat nearby.

Her jaw set at the thought, and her grip around her saucer tightened.

“Quite the ambassador,” Nadine agreed as Tristan took his seat. She was really trying to be nice, though her tone was never overly compassionate. “How many pints have you collected today, Mr Vaillancourt?”

Josie clapped. She sometimes did a shift a Puddifoots. When money was short or when Pandora needed help. This was exciting. VAMPIRES! Josie wanted to find out everything. She was going to ask lots of questions. Everyone was talking about vampires. Were they dangerous? Were they nice? She was a little bit scared. But that was good scared. Now she just had to find one.

Cass liked humans on the other side of the wireless.

Since she had become a vampire, she had often struggled with her new identity and to enter a room full of people who were her old life, and also her new natural food source was giving her anxiety. She had spent a good hour or two pacing up and down the flat she shared with Tristan, debating on whether to come at all. It was halfway through the moon cycle in vampire terms, just before the full moon, and she was meant to be at her least hungry. Cass had always struggled with her appetite as a human (especially as the magical community had a rather sweet tooth) and the evening’s event was just like her teenage self entering Honeydukes, pretending she didn’t have a pocket rammed full of galleons when she very well knew she had.

To add her to worries, her mysterious post situation had not yet been resolved by the aurors. She was impressed they had taken it up rather than fobbing her off to the Law Enforcement Patrol, but she supposed the tension between the communities meant extra risk. So she had turned up yet another dodgy wrock record she had been sent to play on the wireless and tried to distract herself and decide what to wear.

Sitting in visible distance to Tristan, she slurped down her blood infusion noisily, and clattered her teacup down with her nerves. The other people on her table were staring at her as if they wanted to say something but thought it might be impolite. Possibly it was the smear of blood down her pale chin, which Cass was unaware of. She eyed them back with trepidation.

“What, I’m… thirsty…”

She winced at her words but it was too late.

“Don’t suppose I could get some more…?”

She turned and looked around herself hopefully.

            "How many pints have you collected today, Mr Vaillancourt?"

To the credit of Carstairs' Auror-reprimanding abilities, Nadine Pinn had yet to offend any non-being sensibilities this evening. Tristan supposed that it didn't matter what floor one worked on at the Ministry: you didn't throw slurs in a room with several vampires in it. Many of his acquaintances were present, including his quixotic lodger, Cass. She was on the younger end of the vampiric spectrum tonight and so he felt responsible for her in some ways; he made a mental note to check in on her at some point. For now there were other social obstacles to tread.

"Approximativement..." he toyed with the handle of his teacup thoughtfully and addressed the table in an almost insouciant manner, "Thirty or so pints, I am given to understand."

Simply imagining that much blood was enough to drag a more hungry smile out of the vampire, "Such generosity with one's ichor. My community and I are assuredly humbled." Tristan said this with just enough flippancy that it might be interpreted as sarcasm.

"Were you amongst the generous, Auror Pinn?" he raised his eyebrows at her, happy to be across the table. "I may yet pick out your notes at my next feeding..."

Being a single mother of newborn twins was a full time job. Being a single, werewolf mother of newborn twins was doubly so. Being a single, werewolf mother of newborn twins who also owns one of the most accomplished and well known establishments in Hogsmeade was nearly impossible. Pandora Puddifoot's loving nature had merely grown with her new responsibilities and she somehow managed to keep her head above water. This day had been a test to her constitution, that was for sure.

When she was approached about using Puddifoot's to host a blood drive, Dora almost declined. It wasn't that she didn't think that the plight of the vampire population was important - she truly loved and cared for everyone, she just didn't want to draw more publicity to her home and hearth. It was difficult enough dealing with the people who thought she shouldn't have had children because of her condition - adding vampire haters into the mix wasn't exactly high on the witch's list.

In the end, it was no choice at all. Pandora had always believed in equal rights, and she couldn't imagine letting her children grow up in a world where she wasn't willing to fight for everyone. So Dora had hired a babysitter for the evening and she spent the entire day in the kitchens, churning out pastries both sweet and savory for those who donated. She donated tea and other beverages, along with all the snacks, free of charge. It was the least she could do.

Making her way through the crowd, the proprietor winked at Josie before making her way to the front right as Tristan raised his cup. A genuine smile split Pandora's face and she nodded her head in acknowledgement. As long as she imagined them drinking tea, she wouldn't be uncomfortable.

They certainly weren't sipping on Lady Grey.

Nadine’s lips itched to reply with something scathing, but she inhaled, counted to ten… well.. four, she wasn’t letting the fangy bastard have too much pleasure. She leaned forward, placing an elbow on the edge of the lacy tablecloth.

“You know Mr Vaillancourt,” the witch began, with a hint of a smirk that only looked predatory, “it’s comments like that where I’m never quite sure if you’re joking or trying to bait tolerant aurors like me.” Her sinister smile grew, “wouldn’t want another misunderstanding.”

“What, I’m… thirsty…” Nadine’s attention was momentarily diverted to the blonde, a smear of red down her pale chin. The auror stared in mild disgust at the appearance, mostly for polite society reasons, but also for the fact there were clear fangs above that chin. The voice seemed familiar though, Pinn’s mind dredging up images of the auror headquarters late at night.

“My, what a veritable blood bank we all are in this room for you and your friends.” Nadine remarked, looking back to Tristan. “She one of them?”

"Of course." Josie said. She had a teapot. She poured Cass another cup of tea. "My name is Josie by the way. Nice to meet you. Is anyone sitting here?" Josie pointed to the seat beside. She beamed at Cass. She was a vampire! Josie could not wait to interview her. What if she was 100s of years old? That was amazing.

“Thank you for this,” Cepheus[1] spoke softly, stepping beside Pandora after Tristan had spoken and the attendees were swilling tea and exchanging awkward conversation. “As ever, you are a example to others.” 

The Being Division Head smiled gently. Pandora was to Ceph’s understanding, an active campaigner for equal rights in all senses for beings (and beasts if one kept the Ministry classification of transformed werewolves). He admired her as a businesswoman, and a mother. She seemed to manage it all without breaking a sweat, but maybe, like a duck, it was all smooth above the water and hectic leg paddling beneath. Either way, she managed with more grace than seemed possible.

Puddifoots was at the middle of everything today, what with the tent erected nearby and donators and friends actively encouraged inside to take or purchase refreshment as appropriate. He only hoped that when news of the day got out in the papers and through word of mouth, that the place was seen as forward-thinking rather than a threat. They were still dealing with anti-vampire sentiment for the likes of Malkins in Diagon Alley, back in London.

“Everyone appears to be enjoying themselves.” Ceph added, feeling ever so slightly awkward to make conversation, given they were both trying not to stare at the fangs and ruddy tea.

1.	Nuri dressed me

A darling of a witch came to Cass with a teapot, delighted to help from the smile on her face. Cass couldn’t help but mirror the smile, forgetting her teeth and unaware of the bloody lips. Against her pale complexion it was all the more stark.

“Thank you Josie!” Cass replied brightly, perking up. It wasn’t often she met such a polite witch these days. Josie had one of those pleasant, welcoming faces with rounder cheeks.

Round, flushed, healthy cheeks…

“Nice to meet you. Is anyone sitting here?”
“No, not at all, it’s free.” Cass gestured to the seat, and shuffled in her own to sit more towards her new acquaintance, doing her best not to stare. “I’m Cass, Cass Motley,” she reached out her hand to shake, “You might know me from the radio? Well, if you’re awake in the middle of the night during the week? Anyway, how do you do, Josie?”

His little joke did not, apparently, go down very well with the Auror. Tristan smiled at her jibe nonetheless and drank his 'tea' while the other guests at the table cast their eye around Pudifoot's. It was a charming atmosphere: the clink and tinkle of afternoon tea, the sleepiness and shadow of night. Cass had caught Nadine's attention.

            "She one of them?"

He glanced at the neighbouring table, suppressing a laugh at the blood trickling down her chin, and then turned back to his own company. "Indeed. You must know Miss Motley by name, at least - I believe she and I were in need of your department's services not long ago, on account of an incident at our residence."[1]

Tristan had said it like he was recalling a much less serious event but seeing as how he and Cass had been victim to it, that was their prerogative. He licked the red off his lips and glanced into his teacup, reflection absent in its dark red surface.

"A preponderance of garlic. I understand sale of it has increased since attacks in March. Perhaps some believe that its consumption is their best form of protection?" he laughed before shifting his gaze back to Nadine. "You mustn't allow our sense of humour to bait you Auror Pinn. We must take our pleasure where we can derive it, harmlessly."

1.	And it's Coming Closer - 21st March

"Good evening." Sandy said. "Apologies for lateness." He had been late at work. "Had a difficult case at the end of my shift." He looked at the other people on the table. "Sandy Misslethorpe." He extended his hand to Nadine. Then he held it out to Tristan. "Have I interrupted?"

"Oh my God really?!" Josie squeaked. "I listen to you when I come back from the pub. You have good taste in music!" She was excited to meet her. "I had no idea." She did not want to let go of Cass hand. "I am really well. Really well! So good to meet you. Oh my God I am being such a fan girl. I am sorry." Josie let go. She fanned her cheeks. "I am a journalist. Independent. But I help here too. Pandora is so good to give me some shifts." Josie babbled. "Full disclosure I am writing about tonight. Can I ask you questions?"

Nadine gave Tristan a pretend laugh at his bait comment. Penelope Pickler had been all about treating beings equally, but she hadn’t insisted they like them.

“Motley?” Nadine mused, her memories making a connection, “Think Blish and Ramsay took that, spread the cases out. We don’t have a specialist, after all.”

“Good evening,” another joined the table where there had been an empty seat. “… Sandy Misslethorpe.”
“Nadine Pinn,” she replied, shaking the wizard’s hand, “delighted.”
“Have I interrupted?”
“Gosh no,” Nadine replied graciously, even if Misslethorpe had interrupted a minor sniping match between her and the vampire. “We were just debating the garlic market, as it happens. Have you had many garlic-related injuries at the hospital?”

True to her self-awareness on the subject, it looked like Nadine would not be (as she put it) baited tonight. Tristan could nonetheless surmise that she detested him - he would of course continue to exhibit his vampiric traits as blatantly as was possible for a person in his position. Overt behaviour would be too risky; he did have his job at the Ministry to think about and he didn't want to make professional life all that awkward for the Beings Division.

             "We don’t have a specialist, after all."
"A shame," he murmured regretfully.

While nobody else at their table appeared keen to interrupt the tension, a newcomer managed the task with little flourish. Tristan looked away from Pinn and was happy to greet the wizarding now joining them. "Tristan Vaillancourt," he informed with a smile that did nothing to hide his fangs.

A Healer then. How novel. He forced a laugh at Nadine's question and considered Misslethorpe thoughtfully.

"Oh it's not so severe as that, our aversion. I'm certain St.Mungo's does not receive many of my kind suffering from garlic poisoning, does it Healer Misslethorpe?" Tristan ran his finger around the rim of his tea cup, catching a smear of blood. "Of course I can't account for human injuries in that respect," he admitted.