Thank god it was Friday.

Although it wasn't the best weather, that didn't matter. It didn't matter if it was raining when you go out to a club, especially when you can just apparate when you leave to get home quickly, although luckily it was not raining, just not very warm and not very nice. But it was a Friday! And time for a club! Who cared if the Friday wasn't best weather as long as your weekend is solid!

Gris had the weekend off! This was excellent, she was free to just relax and chill, which is what she thought was happening this evening. She had sent Figaro an Owl a few days ago, they had planned to hang out, she didn't care too much what it was, but she thought hanging out would be something relaxing, maybe going off to stargaze and drink while shooting fireworks.

Not going into Spellpunk and getting absolutely smashed, although it would be fun regardless. So nonetheless the evening should be interesting.

She had a nice outfit for a quiet evening, she was prepared a bit more for that, but seeing Spellpunk as it was, aswell as just his choice for places to head to, made her quickly cast a spell to swap her outfits, thank Merlin for magical clothes changing, how would she have ever managed without it? She'd probably have to take clothes with her and ask him not to watch as she changed in an alley.

Luckily she had a nicer outfit for this situation though, alright sure the double denim may be a little too much. But she believed she could pull it off and that's what counted right? Besides it wasn't jeans and jacket atleast, or a denim shirt.

They'd met up outside and headed in, Gris couldn't help herself, she dotingly way she spread herself over him, does he have a partner? She'd apologize to them if caught, but she wanted to see if it got him flustered, or if he was just oblivious to it, that might be even more fun. She could get away with so much, tease him so much without him knowing what she's doing. Although she felt he must, right?

Of course the inside was busy, manic and hectic, loud too. It was a Friday after all, but luckily most seemed to be at the dancefloor and partying, which meant plenty of space to get booze, an essential fluid for any party.

"So Figaro my boy, what are you after?" She smiled as she moved off of him. "Sex on the Beach? Personally its one of my favourites." She said with a happy smirk. "Or perhaps you want something harder? I'm paying for first round."

"Sex on the Beach? Merlin's balls, Gris, this isn't a hen do theme night," he joked and gave her a gentle shoulder.

It was just the latest of Gris' strange flirtations this evening. He'd been gently brushing them off so far. Gris was nice and good for a laugh but he was still carrying a couple of unrequited torches[1], gone from fake-engaged-to-friendship-broken with someone else,[2], and had gone on a date with a woman not far from ten years older than he was that ended in a lot of blood.[3]] That, and nobody had ever treated him this way and he didn't know what to do with it. But a night out was a night out and the distraction from a bizarre winter was welcome. So he'd put on his nice trousers, done up his hair, and met Gris at Spellpunk.

"I'll have a Severus SnIPA." Spellpunk had recently begun serving Hopworts Brewing Co.

"So, how's, uh, Auror stuff?" Not very many people had guess that Gris Hericho would end up in one of the most rigorous post-Hogwarts programs available. She certainly had the intensity, but the rest of it still made it hard to believe. But nobody really expected Figaro to go into anything and he had, so here they were.

1.	Fauna, Sophie
2.	Moira :sob:
3.	Hannah Bombay - 26 Nov 2011 - Nightfall Heals Them All

"Sex on the Beach? Merlin's balls, Gris, this isn't a hen do theme night,"

Gris faced him and stuck her tongue out, there was nothing wrong with that! It was a lovely drink, he just had unsophisticated tastes, perhaps she'd have to just for something a bit lighter then, Long Island Iced Tea maybe then? Those were always good, and isn't the intention of clubbing to get absolutely wasted for the night? Or atleast, drunk enough to believe that you can actually dance when you all know its a lie.

A Severus, that was interesting, she wasn't sure if she'd take the same, while she wasn't completely taken by sweets that didn't mean she was into the opposite either, beers and...lager and IPA's? What even were the differences, then you had stouts and ales. They all just tasted the same to her, mostly weird, bloaty and bitter. There was already enough alcohol to remember let alone the million types that all taste the same.

She turned to the person at the bar and smiles. "One Severus SnIPA for him. And a..." She quickly went through the lists of weird drinks she knew that they'd serve. It was a few to be fair. "Veela's Kiss for me." It was a good drink, grapefruit, pineapple juice, vodka and giggle water with an apple slice on the side. Very fruity but always nice to have.

Ah, Figaro was pushing on the tough questions indeed. The Auror stuff.

"Mostly boring." She leaned forwards onto the counter. "Mostly filing paperwork, I've seen more paper in a week then I did studying to become a kitten." Atleast that had a cool payoff in the end though, becoming a cat was fun and cool, taking coffee orders and paperwork...someone must like it she guessed. "I fill out stamp cards for coffee shops about every other day though so I get free drinks often." That was a good plus, it was nice when she had to go to starbucks instead, she could take all the time she likes going there.

"How's the potion shop? Am I still banned?" She shot a friendly smirk.

"Why would you be banned?" Figaro asked leaning on the bar waiting for their drinks. But then he understood. "Oh, right. The baby Auror thing. Whatever. My mum's just weird about Ministry. She doesn't even like me being friends with Fauna."

That animosity seemed to have warmed since the January full moon. Zelda had let Fauna into the garden.

"It's complicated," Figaro said. Gris knew the story or she didn't. Of how in Figaro's fifth year when his dad had gotten arrested and thrown into Azkaban on potions charges. Since then the Ministry had been, if you were to ask Zelda, harassing the family.  'Random' inspections, invasive questions, things like that. In a wild coincidence, Figaro had been arrested and fouled it up. It had been a whole thing. There was little wonder why Zelda had put up walls, not just for herself but for the whole family.

He scratched the back of his neck. "It's complicated," he repeated. "But do what you want. Best dittany in town."

He lifted his recently arrived beer in a toast.

Gris...didn't mean to bring on any bad memories if there were anymore, more just trying to make a friendly jab, although he didn't seem too hurt by it to her, so there was that. She was still only half understanding the situation from things she's heard but she didn't really blame his parents for not wanting them in your business in general. Especially a big name potion shop, clients will get spooked, not to say they did anything illegal. But if a restaurant she wanted to go to kept having health inspectors around she wouldn't want to eat there, it might be the cleanest place on the planet, may be they like getting checked frequently to ensure standards. But she wouldn't trust it.
She knew she was wrong with the thing, but she could just understand in general why you wouldn't want the authorities showing frequently.

"Its fine, its fine. Although Fauna is amazing, your parents are missing out." She said with a small smile as her own drink arrived, she took it and raised a toast with him. Although what would it be? She figured it should be something good, he'd probably do it to reunions or something, maybe a too Fauna? That'd be a little weird right?

"To potentially finding someone to go home with tonight." She giggled before clinking it into his. "Oh, and to getting absolutely smashed on a Friday." Thank Helga Hufflepuffs collection of puppies it was a Friday.

"You ever tried a Veela's Kiss? Either way." She asked softly with a sigh as she took a sip.

Figaro had committed a party sin and brought down the mood. Nothing killed a vibe more quickly than talking about parents and complicated things and ordering bitter beer. Gris had come looking for a hook-up and here Figaro was, being an absolute shit about it. Her toast was weak and her little sigh over her fruity girl drink was sad. Gris deserved a good time as much as anyone.

"What about ... him?" Figaro said with total seriousness. He'd turned around and sided up to Gris so he could subtly nod at the bouncer at stairs. He seemed to be in his early 40s, well over six foot tall and wearing dark spectacles. "What's your type? Lamp posts? Mannequins? Lightning-struck trees?"

He sipped his beer and looked to Gris for her sincere evaluation of Gentleman Number One who must be called ... Mr. Cravity or ... Snelbow or something like that.

Gris giggled, trying to show him that she was fine, he seemed a bit put off, was he thinking he was a buzzkill? She didn't think of him like that, she had just asked an awkward question and he took it the wrong way, there was nothing wrong with that, if anything she shouldn't of given the wrong question for it. And as such she was the one at fault for all of it.

Although he may of taken her toast a little too seriously also, while she was somewhat looking for a hookup, I mean it was the point of clubbing right? Some fun, some drinks, then near end of the night you wander off with some random person you just met to cap it all off. Atleast that was how hers tried to end, was she wrong this entire time? But that was far down the line, first it was the drinks and humiliating dancing! By law they had to do so or its not clubbing is it?

"I mean, I'm not looking for someone until I'm much more drunk." She sipped again, holding the glass over to offer him a taste of it if he so wished.

"Hookups are more end of the night, for now its we enjoy ourselves and by about twelve or one we see if it can cap off the night." She gave a little smirk.

"Plus he's way too old, I prefer leaner and younger. Unless you want me to introduce you to him?" She didn't mean it as an insult, she was genuinely curious if he would like her to break the ice.

"She's got a system, very nice," Figaro remarked with an approving nod. Figaro rarely succeeded in pulling for several reasons including a general lack of focus and his tendency towards obnoxiousness. He'd had several girlfriends in school, the best ones being the most theatrical, his favorite being Sophie Flickwick who broke his nose. But then that git bully Harper had broken his nose as well, so who was to say.

"Me and, um, Grumlers, no way. We're ancient history," Figaro said in a dry joke. "Horrible break-up. Totally incompatible."

Deftly, he reached for Gris's drink and took it for a quick try. "Mmm! Right, that's actually not terrible. Switchsies?"

"She does, she does." Gris nodded along playfully, a dry smirk on her, to most she might get annoyed being referred in such a way, but she knew Fig didn't mean anything by it, besides she was out to have a good night and she did have a plan. If by plan, you mean a loose idea you'll forget as you get absolutely hammered with music and alcohol. Those were the only reliable plans in the end really. No plan survived contact with the enemy. But all plans survived alcohol and dancing.

"I'm so sorry to hear about Grumlers, I thought you two were really hitting it off." She giggled and gently punched his arm. "I remember the first time you set eyes on him, and you said to me." She cleared her throat gently and did the worst impression of Figaro she could possibly do. "What about him?"

Switchsies though? No, she thinks not. Her drink is amazing, and she isn't fond of beers or IPA or that sort of stuff. This however was genuinely amazing. Unlike the liquid wheatabix he was drinking.

"Hhhm, no but we can go halves on a pitcher and drink out of straws?" She said with a smile. "And if that doesn't make you want to dance, then we spend the night drinking ourselves into a stupor and none of us will ever remember it so how will it be bad?" She thought it was a good plan.

"I don't have the attention span for a pitcher," Figaro explained and turned back around to the bar. He liked skipping around the menu, ordering something different each round. He finished off the three-quarters pint with some skill and waited to flag down the bartender again. Could be a minute; the club was getting busy. The only reason Fig and Gris had a spot at the bar was because they hadn't walked away after ordering.

Gris seemed obsessed with getting hammered. She'd mentioned it at least four times in the past ten minutes. Figaro loved a party as much as the next lad and probably drank more than one should, but he preferred to remember his nights out. And when he did want to have a good time, he didn't have to talk about it - he just ... did it? Figaro looked over his shoulder at her. In school she'd been really laid back, a notorious procrastinator; this intesity and earnestness, Figaro couldn't tell where it was coming from. But then, a lot changed in a year. The world outside of Hogwarts was ... change-y. They'd all changed.

"You doing alright?" He tried to be casual about it. "You can get as drunk as you want, I totally support that. I'll make sure you get home. But, you know, if something's bothering you..."

He let it trail off. He knew Aurors-in-Training had it rough.

Gris couldn't help herself somewhat, his caring tone for her, the sincerity of it. Her face turned a light crimson as she looked down. Everything was alright, she wasn't entirely sure why he was asking, she understood it was due to her talking about getting drunk, most likely, possibly. She wasn't really trying to be detective mind right now and she figured she was better as some sort of backup, like the fun sidekick with great jokes everyone loves to see as a companion to the grim and dour Auror. Or just hopelessly gay for her roommate Detective like Watson. She thinks that's Watson, she's only really seen the first season of Sherlock and hadn't gotten around to watching the second one as of yet. But she was fairly certain that was what was going on...

"Oh no, nononono. Nothing is wrong, trust me. If something was wrong I'd be at home eating icecream while curled on the couch crying." It may be exaggerated, but she also did end up somewhat like that now and then, just doing anything to pass the time and that turned out to be rather cozy. "I just..."

She needed to think of a right word for it, or atleast how best to explain the situation.

"I don't understand going for drinks." That was probably a good way. "So like, we go out yeah? So to here, I am fairly lightweight so I get drunk easily anyway. But isn't the point of drinking to get drunk? I'm typically fine, then all of a sudden I'm drunk. Not much middle ground." Or perhaps she just never noticed as in her state she was preoccupied on other aspects and then got drunk. Admitting she was somewhat lightweight hurt though, she took pride in being able to hide it, it was a thing that people could use to prank her, and only she was allowed to prank!

Figaro stared at her, now visibly dumbstruck. He had no idea what was going on all of a sudden. Gris was fine, she claimed, but had just introduced couch-crying into a conversation that was suddenly about her not wanting to drink. He would have guessed it couldn't get worse than talking about his mum while they were meant to be having fun at Spellpunk, but it somehow had.

"No, that's not what I meant," Figaro insisted having to raise his voice in the loud club. "Drink because it's fun. Or not! As much as you want. Or not! Nobody cares. Just -"

Figaro let out an exasperated sigh.

"You didn't have to come."

He used to be good at this, making a party from nothing, getting on with most anyone who was around. But he was old now, apparently, lost his touch. Lost his sparkle. Tonight he wanted to blow off steam as much as the next kid in the place wearing their coolest jacket and loudest trousers. He'd thought that was what Gris wanted, but he had missed a very important train, obviously.

Oh no, now she was ruining the mood. This was getting bad, and was certainly not what she was trying to achieve. Without knowing much on what to actually say right now, she leaned in to hug Figaro, hugs helped to make things better and people happier she had found. And it gave her time to think of better explanations if she wasn't doing a good job with explaining it. It was just a matter of what to say and how.

"I wanted to come. Remember, I'm the lazy girl from school, if I did not want to, I would of said so or not showed up." She tried to reassure him.

With a gentle wave at the bartender to flag them down she put up four fingers. "Four Jaeger Bombs please." She called out.

Then she turned back to Figaro, letting go of the hug and moving back away from him, she'd hope somewhat that the hug didn't spook him, like a deer whenever the grass was slightly moved by the wind. Or a cat when they get startled by being a cat...she may be somewhat guilty of that also.

"From what I understand from when I've had drinks, the aim has always been to get drunk. I've never casually drank, so to me. Drinking is always to get drunk." She prayed it made some sense and wasn't drowned out by the people and music. "And so clubbing, is like going out for drinks at a meetup, but with double the goal of getting drunk and dancing about. Possibly at multiple places. Or have I known it wrong the whole time?"

She sipped her drink, then offered it to him again, he did like it, and if he doesn't have patience for a pitcher, then they can share it for now, she didn't mind especially since she doesn't usually spend money on luxuries and gets cheap long lasting food, meaning she always has a good amount saved for those free weekends.

Oh, Merlin, she was hugging him, his face suddenly full of her shampoo'd grey-charmed hair. This was new. At least she wasn't couch-crying, smacking him (always earned), or trying to flirt, all of which Figaro was very much not up for. Figaro allowed the hug, though, reciprocating only as much as to give Gris a pat-pat-pat on her shoulder until she released him. Wait. Had she just...? Four Jaeger bombs!? Enough caffeine to melt a cauldron bottom...

When she turned back to him from ordering, she was talking about methods and protocols of drinks vs clubbing.

"It's not magic," he said, still a little baffled. "It's just meant to be fun. There's no right or wrong. Well - " Figaro checked himself. "I mean, there's messy and there's Improper Use of Magic charges, and mustn't forget consent and should only crack sober,[1] but if you think too hard about it then there's no point."

It was a rare occasion that Figaro had an opportunity to educate, and it was ironic that his expertise in this case was how to Give Less Effort to Miss Low Effort herself, Gris Hericho. He decided to keep it super simple.

"Friends." He pointed at the two of them.

"Refreshment." He pointed at the bar.

"Music." He pointed upwards.

Then he opened his hands and shrugged. That was it. No tricks. No code. You went out because other people were out.

1.	I have to imagine there were public awareness campaigns to prevent Apparating while Drunk

She couldn't help but giggle at the way he explained it to her, not just due to the drinks either, but his line delivery, he would make a good stand up comedian if he ever tried to break into it. He has the timing and delivery to be a deadpan comedian if nothing else. Or maybe she is much more drunk then she wanted to admit at the moment? Both were solid possibilities at the moment.

"Well then. Lets try to make it proper yeah?" She said with a happy smile as the drinks arrived.

"We." She put one shot next to him.

"Drink." She put one next to herself.

"And." She gave him another.

"Dance." She put the fourth next to herself. Two Jaeger Bombs each, that was a deadly combination but she believed they could manage it, and if not, there is the dance floor, if they do manage it...there is also the dance floor. No matter what they would enjoy the last part he gave her as instructions to clubbing. Music.

"To Clubbing?" She proposed with a jaeger bomb.