...Continued from

The bar was only a little busy. Theta pushed her curls gently back into place before pulling a drink menu between them. She couldn’t quite put her finger on the scent, but standing close together at the bar, she could definitely say Auror Pratt smelled as good as he looked. Another tick on the mental list.

Someone nearby was served two TriWhiskey Tournaments. Theta pointed at the wooden slats.
“Those are always the start of trouble,” she suggested, about to begin a story when the smallest realisation popped into her head. If Ed was Head Auror, he was Fauna’s boss. Fauna, Theta’s housemate, was about to become a fully-fledged auror. Maybe not that story then. “But maybe it’s because there’s not much of me,” she swerved.

“Are you a beer, wine or shot-drinking kind of guy?” Theta asked. Her mind was simultaneously trying to remember anything Fauna had said about her boss and trying not to spoil things. She hopped up on a stool in an effort to even the height difference. “Or you know, water’s good too, got to look after your health.”

When Miss Theta Pepper suggested they get a drink, Eddie swiftly downed the beer he had in his hand, and on arrival at the bar, plonked the tankard down on the sticky wooden surface.

“Those are always the start of trouble,” Ed’s glance followed Theta’s to the drinks being served up. Strong whiskeys. Some sort of dare for the young’uns, maybe?
“Drunk in ‘alf the time, then?” He asked with a wink. She was slight. Dainty. Cute.

His date asked about his preferred drink before suggesting water, and Ed laughed. “Water! Can’t ‘ave no fun on water, Theta.” He shook his head, chuckling. “Water, indeed…” But what did he drink, she’d asked. “I function on coffee, as ye might imagine.” She’d recalled that he was the Head Auror. Coffee was the life sustaining substance for any auror, wasn’t it? Like blood sucking vampires sucked on the life source of humans, Aurors sucked on the life source of the fateful coffee bean.

“Beer’s good. Or wine. We can share a bottle if ye like?” He asked with a smile, “Unless, ye know, ye gotta make that signal to yer mate? Wine’s quite the commitment on a date, ‘ent it?”

Wine was a commitment? Theta blinked a moment, understanding the words but not necessarily expecting it so early on in their conversation! Did the repeated reference to the secret signal suggest Ed was worried she would ditch him early? Was he worried, or was this a bit of a guilt trip?

“You think I’m scared of commitment?” Theta asked, blinking quickly as she looked up to study Ed more closely. “Josie will be fine,” she gestured vaguely in the direction they’d come from. “I think it will be her date who will need the signal, to be honest. She’s quite intense.” That was why her friend was trying to make it as reporter, and at times, succeeding. She’d probably turn the evening into an article somehow. Theta had considered it, briefly, with writing for the Hogwarts newspaper as a student, but she was just a bit too polite.

“Alright, a bottle of white,” she looked up at the list printed behind the bar and chose an elf one she recognised the name of. “Unless that’s too girly for you, Head Auror.” She gave a sneaky little smile, but there was no malice behind it. “Can always prop you up later with some coffee if you feel the night dragging,” Theta suggested, though she hoped he wouldn’t.

The wine arrived, and two glasses were easily poured. “Cheers!” Theta toasted her date. “Everyone’s going to be asking each other what made them sign up to a Witch Weekly blind date night, but I would prefer to know if you’d rather fight a chicken the size of a dragon or ten chicken-sized dragons.” She tilted her head inquisitively, “you’re going to tell me you’ve firsthand experience of this exact dilemma, aren’t you?”

“You think I’m scared of commitment?” Theta asked, causing Ed to raise his hands in mock surrender. He had no idea what she suffered from. Just friendly conversation. Or so he’d thought. Fortunately, she agreed to the bottle of wine and pointed out an elfish white. While more of a fan of red wine, Ed was not the sort to argue with a witch on a first date.

“I’m not sure I see that happenin’, lass.” This short little witch seemed lovely enough. Hopefully she could hold a conversation better than some of his previous disaster dates, and they’d be forking out for another bottle. After so long being single, Ed could certainly hope.

When Theta asked him the most bizarre question he’d had on a first date, Pratt suddenly let out a laugh. He liked it. Maybe he liked her. Random and a bit different. That was far more fun than bland and indifferent.

“Ah…not that exact dilemma, no.” That was very specific. “Dragon sized chicken, no doubt. No fire breathin’ then. Can’t fly. A bit dumb. I reckon ye just gotta watch out for the beak all too eager to make soup with yer brains. Ten mini dragons can cause a lot more trouble, if yer ask me.” He had 4 kids. He knew what miniature trouble they could get up to and they didn’t breathe fire.

Well, if they were going down the route of odd questions…
“Being surrounded by a clan on banshees or only being able to sing like a banshee?”

He found her question funny. Not funny in a nasty way, either, Theta thought. She was trying to be original.

“Dragon sized chicken, no doubt…” Ed went for, which was indeed the most logical answer when Theta had considered it. She had wondered if he might choose an unconventional answer to the equally unconventional question, just to be flashy, but she found the logical answer much more satisfying.

“Being surrounded by a clan of banshees, or only being able to sing like a banshee?” Ed posed in return.

“Hmm,” Theta replied, sipping her wine and narrowing her eyes in thought. “Is this, for the rest of my life?” She clarified, “Because I think being surrounded by a clan of banshees for the rest of my life would be really disruptive for everyone in my life, unless they’re like Celestina Warbeck’s backing singers… aaaand…” she drew out the vowel, “if my banshee singing was that good, then I’d definitely go with the latter, no question.” What a thought! Theta grinned at Ed, content that things looked to be going well so far.

“Ok,” Theta looked up, considering her next question, which had been how many leprechauns could you wrestle until she’d been paired with the Head Auror, making the answer bloody hundreds. “You’re clearly coffee over tea,” her eyes sparkled mischievously, and her lips drew back into a smile that was all teeth, “but what about your chips. Curry sauce or gravy?”

The questions were unorthodox. They were far more interesting than the usual first date questions that Ed had almost memorised answers to from his attempts to find a fun woman to spend his spare time with. He’d almost given up, bored of the monotony of those first dates where you regretted agreeing to meet up. Theta Pepper may have been younger, but she was at least pretty and interesting. Could be a fun evening of not looking at his watch, at least.

The next question, Ed reacted to with a serious look. for a yorkshireman, the condiment choice to pair with chips was a serious choice to make. So, green eyes fixed on Theta’s blue for a moment, his brows narrowing.

“Ye need t’be more specific, lass. Wi’fish and chips, it’s gotta be curry sauce. But if ye wer talkin’ ‘bout pie, well that’s obvious. Chips alone? Never ‘appens, I ent a peasant.” There was a distinct possibility that Ed’s already strong accent only intensified in response to this question.

“Can tell yer a southerner.” The wizard grinned and took a swig of wine.

Ah here was one that made him think. A truly cultural, invisible dividing lines of Britain question. He met her gaze intensely.
"... Wi'fish and chips, it's gotta be curry sauce." She had presumed correctly, but was not expecting a variation according to food accompaniment to follow, discussing pie and then the fact that only peasants had chips without anything else.

"Can tell yer a southerner."
"Other than my accent?" Theta emphasised her accent and laughed at the contrast. "Believe me, you do not want to hear me try to copy yours, it would be an insult. Salt and vinegar here." She raised her hands, palms flat as if accused. "My experience of Yorkshire is flat caps, puddings with roast dinner and my friend Josie when she gets going." She smiled and sipped her drink. "What do you know of us southerners then?"