(2:30 pm)

Sometimes, the lyrics came easily - almost flowing from his mind, complete with a rhythm and tone.  There was a cohesion, an inner connection between the words that just made them fit together easily and simply.  Why was it, though, that those were usually the songs that had no inner meaning - no bigger purpose.  The fluff that padded out an album ten days before it needed to be presented to the producer.  And, usually, the ones that became crowd pleasers. 

But, when it came to the tunes that had meaning, real depth, it felt like birthing a child.  Long, exhausting, painful, drug-demanding, yet with a bloody, noisy miraculous end.  At least, that's what he'd imagined.  Not that Dennis had any personal experience mind you.  Other than that one chick that went into labor halfway through a show.  That had just been strange. 

It was a black night in may
the new moon hid silently behind a tree
there she stood dressed in grey
oh Mary what have you done
oh Mary what have you done

The stench of decaying roses hung heavy in the air
the petals crushed softly beneath her slippers

Dennis stared at the parchment, one hand tapping the page with a quill, leaving little droplets of ink while the other hand scratched impatiently at the edge of his nostril.  This song had been bugging him for near two weeks - with an almost sick obsessiveness.  It was progressing with the speed and pain of the birthing of something important but, so far, he didn't even have enough to say why it was important.  What was the point of it?  Who the bloody hell was Mary? 

Dennis leaned back against the back of the booth bench and bent his head back, staring up at a cobwebby ceiling.  "Mary had a little lamb ... bloody lamb ... ruddy lamb," he murmured to himself, the tune he was murmuring far from the original.  "She threw it out the window..."  Oh, those fun muggle kid songs.  So innocent and violent.  Whatever reason Mary had to be stuck in his head, it probably had little to do with lambs or windows.

Trina Quinn felt like it was time for a bit of a break.  A break from what, she didn’t really know.  It had been a bit of a long morning.  She’d had to go visit her parents.  Normally they got along well, but they decided to lecture her on the most recent article on her having been out late.  Of course they would have to bring that up.  Being parents, Trina knew it was their right to lecture her.  But of course, it didn’t mean that she necessarily had to like their lectures.  It wasn’t like she was doing anything too bad.  Just having fun. Was that a crime now?

So walking along the streets of Hogsmeade, Trina was looking for somewhere to go.  Of course there were plenty of places to go in Hogsmeade, but she wasn’t sure which to choose.  Spotting the Hogshead, she decided that seemed a good choice.  It was probably her favorite place, actually.  Trina liked that it could be quiet, but then again, could be more crowded.  Unaware of which she preferred with her current mood, she thought it best to figure it out.  Walking in, she spotted a familiar face.  Dennis Creevy, fellow member of Three Owl Standard seemed to be working on something.  As she walked closer, she heard him mumbling a bit.

"She threw it out the window..."

“Threw what out of the window?” Trina asked, laughing a little and taking a seat at the table he was at.  Judging by the paper that was sitting in front of him, as well as the pen, she figured he was trying to write a song.

Dennis could be quite the lyricist, as could Trina, so she knew that sometimes you did have a struggle with your words.  Trina has had her fair share of writers block when trying to write new songs. 

“Try some tea with mint leaves. Always works for me. Though could be different for you.” She suggested, hoping to help.

Augustus was in serious need of some TLC. And by TLC, he by no means meant Tender Love and Care. More like Total Liquor Corruption. With that in mind, he made his way from the Snark house in sleepy Bayswater out into the street. He gave the street a once-over to check that the coast was clear, and with a loud 'pop' he vanished into thin air.

He arrived in Hogsmeade, just outside of the Hog's Head. Yes, there were plenty of decent pubs just a gnome's throw away from his own house, but none of them did whisky like Scottish pubs did. And the Hog's Head had some of the best whisky money could buy.

Augustus made his way into the pub and over to the bar, settling himself on a stool and waiting for the bartender to stop polishing the glasses. He heaved a deep sigh and rubbed his eyes. Things had been tiring lately, and it didn't help that Arielle was suddenly being all secretive about everything...boys in particular. Augustus rubbed his temple with his first two fingers at the thought of his daughter 'dating', but was quickly brought from his thoughts by the bartended asking what he wanted. "Lagavulin." He said shortly. "Make it a double." He added for good measure as the bartender went to fill a tumbler for him.

"A lamb," Dennis answered, simply, his head still hanging over the back of the booth.  He knew the voice well enough and knew exactly who the young woman the voice was coming from was.  He could imagine that, to outsiders like Trina, that probably came across as a rather crude and cruel answer but that was part of the glory of the song, wasn't it.  Take something cute and endearing and do something crude and cruel to it all to the accompaniment of a whimsical tune.  "A cute little wee lamb.  She just hoisted him up and chucked him on out," he elaborated, grinning before, finally, hoisting his head upright.  "No parachute or nothing."

He smirked across the table at Trina before shaking his head, partly to toss the stray hairs out of his face and partly to thank her for her recommendation but to, also, gently, decline the offer.  Or rather, that was what he'd meant by the gesture - how much there was to be drawn from a simple head shack was in the eye of the beholder now, wasn't it. 

Tea with mint leaves seemed a strangely feminine approach to solving the problem.  Which, perhaps if the song was headed in the direction of some strange, convoluted love song, maybe such a beverage would help.  Or, maybe, some strange, quite ballad.  Perhaps the shot of whiskey in the man's hand by the bar was more appropriate for the song.  Maybe this Mary was more of a butterbeer with a chocolate swirl kind of chick.  He just, really, had no clue.

He propped a foot up on the bench and hugged his knee to his chest.  "Wouldn't that just get the paper wet?" he answered, grinning sheepishly.  "Meh - I don't know where this thing's going.  Do we know any Marys?"  Or, more specifically, did he know any Marys?  Not that he expected Trina to keep track of that.  "Do you know a Mary?" he asked towards the man at the bar.

The bartender obliged and handed a double shot of whisky to Augustus, who proceeded to take a swift mouthful. He winced slightly as the liquid traveled down his throat and seered his stomach. The bar was quite quiet, with only a young man singing to himself, and a young woman who joined him.

Suddenly, the young man called across the room just as Augustus was about to take another drink from his tumbler. Augustus looked up and at the pair. "Me?" He asked in his own goofy way. "I..." He thought for a moment, letting all of the women he knew or had known pass through his head. Did he know a Mary? "I...don't think so." He gave a lopsided apologetic smile. "Sorry." He picked his drink up and was once again about to have a drink when suddenly it hit him. "Wait - I do know a Mary." He turned on his stool to face the two and grinned. "Although it isn't a woman in any sense of the word." he paused slightly to see the reaction from the pair. "He had unforgiving parents."

"A lamb," Dennis answered, simply.  "A cute little wee lamb.  She just hoisted him up and chucked him on out," he elaborated, grinning before, finally, hoisting his head upright.  "No parachute or nothing."

“A... lamb? Well... that’s nice...” Was all Trina could say. She could definitely tell that he wasn’t particularly in a good mood. Well, at least thats what it seemed like to her. 

Trina wasn’t quite used to Dennis’s writing style yet, so she decided it best to let him go about his routine.  Whatever that was.  She’d met a few other songwriters in the business and it seems that everyone has their own routines.  Trina liked to think hers was more calm. Besides the tea, she just loved going out in public and observing others. Something calming about that. But to each their own.

Dennis asked if they knew any Marys. Shaking her head, she ordered some firewhisky from a passing server.  That seemed like a good idea to her. “None that I know of... Though wasn’t there some crazy fan of yours named Mary? Sent you some of her undergarments... Hmm, I don’t know. Then again, it might have been Mildred... or some other M name.”

Then, Dennis asked the stranger at the bar if he knew any Marys.  And she couldn’t help but laugh when the gentleman said he did know one. And that Mary was a guy. Poor unfortunate soul.  Taking a closer look at the handsome stranger, she realized that she recognized him.  Augustus Snark, head coach of the Falmouth Falcons. 

“Poor man... If I were a bloke, I’d never forgive my parents for giving me such a name.” Trina said with another laugh.

"It's a song some muggle kids sing.  They sing nursery rhymes and then just tag on 'throw it out the window' at the end.  Like ... hmm ... Peter, Peter Pumpkin Eater, had a wife and couldn't keep her, put her in a pumpkin shell and threw it out the window."  It probably wasn't any better - tossing wives and pumpkins out the window rather than lambs. 

At first, it seemed like he was striking out.  This Mary was continuing to elusive and he was no closer to figuring out why his mind was so transfixed on this fledgling of a song.  Perhaps Mary was symbolic - some sort of subconscious religious commentary?  Or, somehow he was channeling strange nannies who fed children spoonfuls of sugar and flew around with umbrellas. 

Umbrellas.  Not brooms.  Strange.  Interesting. 

But, then, the fellow at the bar turned back to them.  A boy named Mary?  Strangely emotionally abusive parents that got their kicks out of strange, inappropriate names.  Dennis' eyes narrowed as he looked towards the bar, roughly in the man's direction.  There was nothing malicious in his expression; he was clearly pensive as he scratched at the inside of his elbow.  Umbrellas.  Bad names. 

"Poor bloke," Dennis said shaking his head.  Never having been one to follow sports of either a muggle or magical variety, Dennis didn't recognize the fellow as readily as the band's female member.  "Dennis Creevey," he offered, reaching out from the booth bench to extend a hand to the man.  "And, this is Trina Quinn."

The young man looked as though he was concentrating very hard on something. He was narrowing his eyes at Augustus, which made the older man shift in his seat uncomfortably.

“Poor man... If I were a bloke, I’d never forgive my parents for giving me such a name.”

"Then thank Merlin your were not a man born to his cruel parents." Augustus lifted his glass as though toasting the fact that he was not so unfortunate either.

The young man held out his hand to Augustus, and the elder man obliged, grasping the hand in his own and shaking slightly. Dennis Creevey. "And, this is Trina Quinn." Augustus let his eyes flicker to the woman he addressed before. He felt his cheeks burn, and was sure the blood was rushing to his ears. he simply nodded at the woman and turned back to Dennis Creevey. "Augustus Snark." He said. "That's me."

Trina heard the other gentleman introduce herself, which proved her thoughts correct.  He was indeed Augustus Snark, the Quidditch coach.  Trina gave him a smile as she received her drink from a server.  She then raised her glass as he had in a toast.

“To not being born with a name that someone of the opposite sex would have.” Trina then took a drink from her glass.  The toast sounded a bit silly, but she surely was thankful to have not been named something awkward such as that.

“So, how are we all doing tonight then? Seems like not the best of nights... or perhaps just a good night for drinking.” Trina noted a lot of frustration on the air.

Dennis was probably frustrated with the song he was trying to write.  Trina was frustrated with her parents always trying to lecture her even though she was grown.  And Augustus was probably frustrated with something of his own.  Then who knows what the other inhabitants of the Hogs Head were feeling.  To Trina, drinking seemed the universal way to get over some frustration.

Dennis rested his head on his right hand, scratching at his head through his hair.  His gaze still lingered on the fellow as his mind churned through the possibilities, only shifting when he noticed the man's shifting in his seat.  Only then becoming aware that he'd been staring at the fellow, Dennis shook his head and sat up straight, turning his attention to the parchment in front of him. 

They were toasting family and their wise decisions.  It was Dennis' turn to shift uncomfortably but, following suit for politeness' sake, he lifted his glass half-heartedly from the bar.  "Parents usually mean best," he mused aloud.  "Even if they don't express it in the usually way." 

He nodded politely in return to the fellow's introduction but, recognizing the splash of color on the man's cheeks after he greeted Trina, arched an amused eyebrow past him towards the bands new feminine addition.  Augustus' response seemed a rather frequent one; Trina seemed to have a knack for such reactions even though, Dennis was certain, she didn't go looking for them.  But, unless he was mistaken, something in Trina's expression hinted that she recognized the fellow.  In a distinctly questioning and inquisitive manner towards the woman, Dennis' eyebrow danced up slight before he looked back down at his parchment and scribbled a few notes.

Strangely named men
Naively tormenting family members
Awkward greetings with the opposite sex
Mary

"Other than this chick Mary being stuck in my head - or bloke, I suppose, things are doing pretty good," Dennis offered in response to Trina's question.  But, a sly grin spread across his face.  "But, you know me, I'm always on the look out for a little fun."  Or, a lot of fun if he could find it.

Dennis Creevey's eyes werre finally averted from Augustus' face, and he felt as though he was able to relax once more. The other two took it in turns to toast various things. Each time, Augustus lifted his glass respectfully, though Dennis' toast got him thinking - did parents always mean best? He thought he meant - and knew - best in regards to his daughter, but speaking to his sister had made him question his ability at being understanding. She had stated that dating was a part of normal life, and that it was something he would be unsuccessful at stemming.

And she had been right. Much as though he had tried in vain to stem it, he had been painfully unsuccessful. He was losing his child, his little baby to another man - boy - and there was nothing at all he could do but watch helplessly from the sidelines. Why couldn't she just be happy with her dad and live with him for the rest of her life? At least he hadn't given her an opposite-sex name. Then he would have completely understood if she had wanted to break away from him for good. But he had been kind, and called her a very feminine name. Some people were just never satisfied.

He shook his head slightly in bewilderment. He would just never understand. Trina asked how they were doing, and Dennis responded that he was fine except struggling with trying to get Mary out of his head. Augustus chuckled at the fact he had a person he had never met stuck in his head. Made even worse by the fact that Mary was now a man. As Trina's question had been directed at both of them, Augustus felt that an answer was required. He gulped slightly, scratching behind his ear nervously. "Children problems." He gave an embarassed lop-sided grin and shrugged.