Niobe shook her head as she listened. He had a method! It was the most well thought-out public nuisance she'd ever heard. It was so totally idiotic, anti-social, risky, reckless ... And she found it hilarious, at least tonight. A sad memory brushed her shoulder and she smiled away Dominik's tempting laugh. She missed him and yet she didn't. This Duncan, he was heading for a fall.

"Me? What, when I get pent up do I go cracking skulls?" She knew that wasn't what he meant exactly. Niobe bit her lip and shook her head, deciding in her fuzzy head how much she wanted to share with some punch-happy stranger.

"I used to," she admitted. "Kind of. Ya feel like you're going to live forever, that nothing can touch you, and then bam. Muggle-baiting charges."

Niobe chuckled a little. "I'm just saying, it's fun until it ain't."

Is this what she did now? Break up fights and distribute lectures like a Head of House? Head of what house, Shifferbrains?

Duncan accepted her slight evasion and went with the answer she gave. If he correctly recalled the story she mentioned it had been a bad incident led by an ex death-eater. The ex boyfriend she had mentioned maybe?

During the war he had crossed paths with several of Voldemort’s followers, and likely after he read the story in the paper he would have believed there was no ‘ex death eater’ to the man. At least Thursby seemed to be doing well for herself now. Not everyone was so lucky.

“Aye, believe me, I know.”

His own excursions had never landed him anything worse than detention or his Ministry boss telling him off about not keeping his temper in check and trying to cause problems (that hadn’t been how he saw it). The Scotsman had seen it happen to others, though, over the years. A spot of fun, a poorly chosen prank, or even being coerced by those on the wrong side of the law and peoples lives could change drastically. Not everyone was as fortunate as Niobe Thursby.

"Just nights out drinking with friends now, then? That's not a bad thing."

"No, not so bad. You try it then. Or haven't you got any friends? Couldn't believe that, nice lad like you."

It was then that the three Harpies came out of the bar and seemed surprised to see Niobe.

"Nibs! We thought you dragged him off!"

"Big fella, aintcha."

"Got your coat for you."

"Going to Death and Co. You coming? Bring the beefcake."

The Quiddy players instinctively moved into formation behind Niobe, both protective and taunting of their quill-carrying friend. Niobe took her coat and put it on. She adjusted her hair under the hood.

"Want to come employ some healthy coping mechanisms with us? It's pint night at Death." It was a sincere invitation but not at all loaded. If he came, he'd be surrounded by four rowdy witches. 

"No pressure."

Fortunately Duncan was spared answering her question on having friends. He /had/ friends once, until he completely turned his back on the ministry. Some of his old comrades had stayed in touch for a short while but they all fell away as their lives moved on.

Amused at the Harpies comments, Duncan raised an eyebrow and chuckled, "Why not." Tilting the bottle back he finished off the beer.

He wasn’t quite ready to go home and support his brother and decide if he should wait a day or two before checking in on his uncle. Another hour or more of not thinking about family would do him good.

Pushing himself away from the wall he first found a bin to chuck the bottle into, followed by the bloody napkin.

“Meet you there?”

They were one Harpy down; Nellie had to get home to relieve the babysitter. So it was two vs two. They were playing some convoluted drinking game that was apparently all the rage on the pro quidditch teams. All that traveling, the players had to find creative ways to keep busy that wasn't done on a broomstick. Niobe had both elbows on the table, her closed fists in the air. In one hand was a galleon. In other other a lot of nothing.

"No winking! No winking!" Juno shouted at Niobe who wasn't allowed to talk. Juno reached over and covered  Niobe's eyes and faked like she was going to bite her fingers. How was Duncan supposed to find the Galleon if she couldn't cheat!

"Last chance, Duncan," Juno directed Niobe's teammate, the stray Niobe had collected back at Jarvey's. Normally, they'd have been more protective of girls' night, but Niobe was a terrible judge of character and what could be more fun than that?

Duncan grinned as Juno covered Niobe’s eyes. This group of witches had certainly proven to be entertaining (and distracting). After the two beers at the Jarvey and what he’d consumed here, a nice buzz had settled over him.

Over the years, especially while growing up, luck had always seemed to be on his side. Now it was time to see if that luck extended to this particular drinking game.

“Alright then.” Reaching forward he tapped Thursby’s non mutilated hand. “This one’s my guess.”

Even if he guessed wrong the consequence wasn’t terrible. All he and his partner would have to do would be to take a drink. If he guessed right though then the other team took a drink and he won. For being right.

Sitting back again he watched as Niobe opened her hands to reveal the galleon.

"HA!" Niobe flourished the big coin deftly and brandished it at the other team. She slapped Duncan a high-five and barked a bragging laugh again.

The galleon was rightfully Duncan's but Niobe used it to buy another round. The remaining sickles and knuts was left on the table. The Harpies got prepared for their turn, Juno keeping her hands under the table to conceal which hand she'd hide the coin in. Helen was distracted staring drunkenly at Duncan.

"Oi! Pick! One round left." Juno prompted her with a kick.

Niobe gasped. "That's telling! You said left!" she tried prying Juno's left hand open, but the Quidditch player was much stronger from gripping that beater's bat. She denied the charges but acquiesced to hiding the coin again. Helen would have the first pick. If she got it wrong, Juno would reshuffle and Niobe and Duncan would get to guess. The game was simple, but like so many pub games got harder as you went.

Nemo was warm with drink, blithe with the fun of a night out.

Duncan returned Niobe's high five and only grinned as she used his galleon to pay for the next round. He had been planning on buying the next round of drinks anyway.

Settling back in his chair he watched Niobe and Juno wrestle for the coin, assuming it was in the left hand, with some amusement and almost oblivious to Helen’s stare.

Even if this outing was with three - previously four - women he didn’t know, Duncan couldn’t recall the last time he’d gone out with a group of buddies to drink, make merry, and be obnoxiously loud. Drinks with his brother and then social parties, like Samhain with the Spectres, were different and couldn’t be counted.

Finally Helen gave a slurred guess on the right hand. Duncan would have guessed left because of the previous disagreement, and he would have been right. “Our turn, again.”

"Ha ha ha!" Niobe taunted the Quidditch players who were not at all sensitive about gloating in competition. Niobe was plenty competitive herself, growing up with her loser brother Pollox. But she silenced when it was their turn again. Duncan hid the coin and held his fists out for Niobe to guess.

She narrowed her eyes and looked into his eyes for some clue she know he wouldn't give. Too honorable. Oh no. His eyes were green, and Niobe forgot she was supposed to be picking. She was snapped out of it by the Harpies elbowing her to get on with it, that they were all going to grow old, and to stop making oogly eyes. Niobe laughed melodically, as she did, and made no denial.

Niobe made eye contact again and instead of just pointing, almost as a show for the Harpies, she reached out and took Duncan's right hand and pulled it close to her and slowly unwrapped his fingers one by one.

Duncan met her gaze head on and couldn’t help a small smirk when the Harpies began ribbing her. While this particular stare was of a different nature, the Scotsman had never been one to back down from a challenge. Not that Niobe was a challenge. This whole outing had been fun. She was fun.

He still didn’t look away even as she pulled one hand forward and unfurled each finger, not giving anything about a win or loss until his hand fully was open. Open and empty.

“Draw. We all drink.”

For a few moments, he left his hand where it was under hers, before pulling it back and picking up his glass to take a drink along with the others.

A draw! Bollocks! Total victory or crash and burn, that was the Thursby way. Everyone moaned and groaned about the unsatisfying ending and had their drinks, the Harpies declaring 'Holyhead Rules' and calling for the whole table to skull it. Niobe did, finishing the rest of her lager of which more than half had remained.

Duncan had pulled away, but not without giving her some coy eyes back. Niobe leaned forward, elbows on the table.

"Two truths and a lie!" she suggested. The Harpies laughed.

"You only want to play that one so you can hit on our boy here."

"Don't fall for it, Dunny, she'll break your heart."

Instead of protesting, Niobe just looked at Duncan and shrugged. "Guilty."

"You have a girlfriend..." sang Juno leaning in close. Then to Duncan, "she has a girlfriend and we'll tie Nibs to a chair before we let her drag you off."

Helen nodded. "Aye, Foy's our girl."

"Come on, Foy would love him."

"She would not, no offense. C'mon, let's get you home where you belong."

"Noooooo."

“Count your lucky stars, Thursby. Good friends you have here. Best hold onto them.” Duncan grinned, his empty glass in the same pile as theirs. “Only bad friends let you cheat.” Alcohol did tend to enable bad decisions and looser morals.

While the nickname Dunny was knew and he wasn’t certain he liked it, the Scotsman took no offense at any of their interactions.

“It’s fine. I need to clean up before I go home anyway,” Duncan gestured to his busted lip and a light bruise under his eye, “or I’ll never hear the end of it.” Even somewhat intoxicated he was beginning to feel more tender areas underneath his clothing.

“They’re right, you should go home. I don’t envy the headache you’ll have in the morning.” His own headache would be bad enough between the fight and the alcohol.

Niobe would have felt embarrassed but she was barely capable of that emotion sober. Left to her own devices she'd have messed up and hurt Foy. She'd been turned down by a pretty bloke. And her Harpies were seriously failing as wingmen. Kind of. Niobe stuck in her seat, elbow on the table, as the Harpies made a half-arsed attempt to wrangle her home. She wasn't that drunk, but maybe like Duncan, she'd needed to blow off some steam.

"Fine! Fine fine fine!" she finally agreed, putting her hands up in surrender. "You're right you're right, Foy would stab me."

Foy Pilpher might well stab her for trying to get with someone else. They'd agreed to be exclusive. She pointed at Duncan.

"You're a good lad, Duncan. Good lad. Don't get in any more joy-scarps or else I'll have to come rescue you."

Lad? How young did she think he was? Nonetheless, he grinned and shook his head, “I'd be lucky if you rescued me again, lass.” He did tend to have good luck but he hoped she never saw him in another fight. His pub fights were few and far between now compared to his younger years.

Duncan sat back in his chair, waving goodbye to the three of them. Unfortunately, their departure meant a return to the harsh reality of going home and talking with his brother (assuming Angus was even awake) about everything.

Maybe he'd clean up the evidence and have one more beer before he went. Yeah. That sounded good.

Fin!