20 January 2012
Friday at 11:30pm
Spellpunk in Diagon Alley

The cobblestones of Diagon Alley had a heartbeat, the thumping rhythm of the youthful nightclub below ground. It was Friday, all the children were back at school, and all the working-stiff twenty-somethings were having a good time. It was cold outside, but the music was good and the drinks were on special.

Waverly Roh-Ballentyne moved through the dance floor, tall, happy, high. Her bomber jacket was shrugged down showing off bare shoulders. Her hair was gathered up, and she'd drawn a streak of white eyeliner on her lower lids. Purple and blue lights spun overhead, like doxies in a daze.  The DJ was new and they were killing it up there, destroying layers of sound as if to embrace the concept of destruction as creation. She'd come alone, but she wasn't lonely. She had sunshine in her bag, sparks more fun than the sugary booze sold up at the light-up bar that snaked through the room.

A couple found Waverly at the edge of the dance floor. They were linked arm and arm - could have been twins how well they were coordinated. Waverly smirked and kissed one of them on both cheeks. When she stood back, Waverly palmed three galleons into her pocket. With her other hand she passed over a tiny silver vial. Then she spun away with her finger on her lips. She waited until she'd been lost in the crowd before she did a little victory dance to herself. The Muse was moving. Spellpunksters were more daring that she'd thought they'd be. Hopefully they knew how to keep their mouths shut, too. She'd hate to ghost this place.

She was on her way up for a bit of fresh air when she saw a familiar face, someone she hadn't seen all summer, no since school.

"Nick!"

Nicholas Bevans, a sweet piece of damaged goods from Gryffindor with those ice-blue eyes. Aw, seeing him now, they were all grown up now.

Nicholas had the weekend off. And he planned to make the most of it.  He had two nights to go out and party until the clubs kicked him out.  And then Peyton had a match on Sunday that Nicholas would definitely be at. Spellpunk was just the start. He hadn't even been there for an hour and his shirt was already sticking to him.  In another hour, he was likely to have lost the shirt altogether.  Thankfully he'd vanished his coat when he got there, assuming he was sober enough to un-vanish it at the end of the night.

He pulled himself away from the couple he'd been dancing with.  His glass was empty, and the witch was getting a little more handsy than it looked like her boyfriend was comfortable with.  And he wasn't drunk or high enough to not care about angry boyfriends yet.  Not that he would do anything to make his own angry either.

"Nick!"

Shite.  Nicholas turned.  Thank Merlin, he'd thought it was the woman he'd been dancing with following him.  But it was just Waverly.  Had he even seen her since school?  "Waverly, how've you been?  Come with me, I need a drink."  He grabbed her hand and glanced back at the couple.  Yep, boyfriend was still glaring.  "And I need to put some people between me and them."

Waverly let her shorter former classmate lead her away from the dance floor, and she definitely noted the affronted sneer coming off the boy Nicholas was dancing with. His hand was sweaty, more proof that he was ahead of her having a good time. Could always count on Bevs for that.

"What'd you do?" she asked him over the noise. "Divorce spell while he wasn't looking?"

Tall enough to easily catch the bartender's eye, Waverly leaned over the light-up bar and ordered a moon-gin and tonic and offered to get the first one for Nicholas as well.

"Because you're fun and never boring," she explained standing close enough that she didn't have to shout.

"I didn't do anything thank you very much,"  Nicholas said, feigning offense.  He'd only been flirting a little bit.  He was mostly just enjoying dancing with them. Had been enjoying at least.  "She was getting a little more into it than her boyfriend liked.  I wasn't encouraging it. I'm taken."  And he doubted he could get Peyton to skip over threesome and go to foursome. And with a straight couple at that.

Nope.  No way. And he wasn't about to ask.  He was sure they weren't at a point in their relationship for that.

"Dragon's piss,"  he said to the bartender after Waverly offered.

"Because you're fun and never boring."

"Aww, that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me."  Nicholas threw an arm around the taller girl.

Waverly set her head back and laughed and draped her arm over Nick's shoulders.

"The bar is low!" she snickered.  "But, I am perceptive and I was bound to find it."

Two glowing drinks appeared before them. Nicholas's was neon yellow and popped and fizzed and served in a tall glass.  Waverly's gleamed a barely blue white. A slice of some sort of blue citrus hung on the rim.

"Cheers," Waverly said and lifted her glass. She was so pleased with herself. Pleased and comfortable and sly and gliding high. Tall enough to see over heads, Slytherin enough to know exactly what she was doing. That and that creeping sense of loneliness that she beat away every morning had been scared off like a cockroach by a lit wand when she'd found a friendly face in a crowd.

She took a drink and gave Nicholas a pat on the head. "So, life's short, small talk's annoying - have you ever heard of Muse?"

Waverly flashed him her best mysterious intrigue eyebrow.

"Oh, Perceptive huh?  What am I feeling now?"  Nicholas said.  Low bar.  Maybe. Or too many conversations with Virgil.

Their drinks arrived, and he took his in all its neon yellow glory. Too bad it's name didn't sound appetizing.  Still it was a favorite of his.  "Cheers," he replied raising his glass to clink Waverly's.  He took a drink and looked around the club.  He didn't see the couple he'd been dancing with.  Which was for the best. Even if they had been fun for a while.

Nicholas turned to glare at Waverly though when she patted his head.  He hated when people did that.  He ran his hair through his hair, fixing it, though the pat hadn't actually done anything.

"So, life's short, small talk's annoying - have you ever heard of Muse?"

Why was she asking about a band?  "Yeah, they are a muggle band.   Surprised you've heard of them.  I've got some of their records back at my flat."

Waverly noted Nicholas fixing his hair - she'd forgotten he could be just a touch fussy at times. They were none of them ever going to really change were they? Maybe not.

"Do I look like I know muggle bands? No, Nicholas, dear, it's a trip. Muse is a proper good trip. Come here a bit."

Waverly stepped away from the bar. She couldn't very well go flashing about the pricey little vials; there were rules. There was a honeycomb of alcoves set in with tall tables each with a single red lamp like a drop of lava hanging over them. Once there, she set her glass down and with what he thought was a pretty clever bit of slight of hand produced a small glass vial.  It was filled with a swirling white liquid. 

"Muse," she said again, feeling sweeter now. Actually curious to what Nick would think of it. Virgil hadn't been thrilled about it and, love-him-to-death, he'd had a rather Virgil reaction to it. Maybe Nicholas Bevans would appreciate Muse's charms.

"Well you should, some of them are amazing."  Nicholas said following her away from the bar.  So whatever it was wouldn't be appreciated by the bartenders. He sat his own glass down and grinned when she produced a vial.  He'd never seen anything like it.  Well at least not that would give you a proper good trick.

"Muse."

"Yeah, yeah you said that part already.  What is it?  What's it do?"  Saying it was a good trip wasn't exactly much of a description.

A connoisseur. Waverly leaned forward on her elbow and tipped the vial this way and that, watching it swirl. The red light turned the light blue glow almost pink.

"Imagine a dream," Waverly tried. She could only remember what it felt like to remember her trip because Virgil had shredded it. He'd pulled her out early and sundered it into pieces that she couldn't retrieve. "But complete. No fuzzy edges, no nonsense twists, your teeth don't fall out. Endless detail. It's like you're actually there."

According to Virgil, that was because it was someone's literal memory, but Waverly wasn't entirely convinced.

"More vivid than a memory," she added. She couldn't keep a touch of sadness from her voice. She wanted to try it again, but knew better than to do it alone. She didn't yet know how the experience ended. Tam, her source, hadn't been specific and Waverly suspected she didn't touch the stuff.

"Your teeth fall out in your dreams?" Okay, maybe Nicholas was focusing on the wrong part of her description but that seemed a little messed up.  His teeth had never fallen out in any of his dreams.  That would just be really weird.  Maybe better than his own nightmares.  Or worse.  With a few drinks in him, he was mostly just curious why Waverly's teeth fell out in her dreams.

"A good memory, I hope." Nicholas had plenty of memories he had no desire to relive.  "Do you know what it will be before hand? Is it like a play that someone scripted.  Cause I'd like the orgy one if you've got it."

It wasn't cheating if it was a drug, right?

"What was it for you?"

"Don't yours? I thought everyone had that dream, " Waverly asked incredulous. She was sure it was a common anxiety dream. No pants at school, can't remember your lines, teeth falling out? No? He was lucky then; it was a terrible feeling, biting down only to find teeth out of place, and then everything coming apart from there.

She snorted when Nicholas described his ideal Muse trip. "Well, that's on brand," she smiled into her drink.

"I'm not saying it's a memory," she corrected him. "But the point is that it's good, but that you don't know what its going to be. It's like you're living an experience completely and it's good from your head to your toes. Inside out, every bit. Like," she thought for a moment, searching for some shred of her trip, but all she remembered was that it was blissful.

When she couldn't she sort of deflated and admitted it.

"I only tried it once, and I don't remember the content. Virgil ... " She rolled her eyes. "Virgil's a prat."

Waverly loved their aloof fae friend and his sleepy eyes, but he could definitely be a right prat.

Nicholas shrugged in response to Waverly's question about the dream. He refrained from commenting that obviously not everyone had had that dream. Some people's teeth were just more attached to their head.  Even in dreams.

"Well, that's on brand."

"I don't know what you are talking about," he said unable to keep the grin off his face.  There were times that he played up his reputation and there were times were he'd earned his reputation.  This was definitely one of the latter. "So its like a 4D movie in your head while you are tripping?" He could get behind that. Just not at Spellpunk.

"Virgil's a prat."

Nicholas let out a drunken gaffaw.  "Yes. Yes he is. Try living with him."

Nicholas made a reference to some muggle technology and Waverly shrugged. "Yea, sure." Whatever inspired him to buy a vial off her sometime.

Then Waverly laughed along with Nick - his mood was always contagious.

"What, did he poke about in your head, too?"

For as much as Nicholas seemed to be boisterous and out and free, he was actually quite private. Waverly didn't hide she liked to be mysterious, but Nicholas seemed to even keep his keeping to himself to himself. It would make living with a psychic tense if said psychic couldn't keep his mind to himself. Waverly had never been bothered by Virgil's gentle peeking the times she'd noticed him doing it - it was only his recent over-zealous rescue attempt that had caused her some resentment. He'd meant well, but he'd wrecked her trip.

"You reckon he's changed since he started at the Ministry?"

"Yea, sure."

"Cool," Nicholas slurred out.  Maybe wixes were finally on the verge of having magical movies.  He missed movies, not that he didn't go, but it was hard to keep up.  And the wireless just didn't compare to the spectacle.

"So you know about that too?  Yeah he poked around. I made sure to think dirty thoughts before I ripped him a new one."  They were okay now, at least he thought they were.  He wasn't angry about it anymore. Most of the time. Ninety percent of the time he wasn't angry about it.  The other ten percent, he was allowed to have conflicting emotions.

"Yes and no.  But haven't we all changed in some ways."  The castle had been so isolated from everything else, how could they not have changed in some way since leaving.  Since being thrown headfirst into a much larger much more complicated world.

"That's a truth," Waverly agreed with the rasp and gaze of an old witch who's show business career had faded to silver.

Waverly reached for Nicholas's hand and unfolded it so she could give him the little vial of Muse.

"Let me know what you think," she said, and patted his fingers closed.

Then she changed the subject.

"Gabby Dagon and I have a place now," Waverly said as if it had been her idea. She'd been living at home in London with her uptight Ministry parents until recently. Their ultimatum had gone exactly as one would expect an ultimatum to go with Waverly. So now she and Gabbs were living in and affordable two-bedroom. "It's in Barking. We'll throw a party and you all can help us break it in."[1]

1.	Burgoyne Burbidges Lofts