Knit one, purl two. Knit one, purl two.  Knit one--

"Here ya are, Tabs," the burly man spoke up.  Tabitha jumped, unaware of just how into her knitting she was at the moment.  "Thanks, Tom."  Although she wasn't sure if the barkeep was the Tom her mother spoke of, it was a Tom all the same and that was good enough for Tabitha.

Although the Leaky Cauldron was a fair dive, but Tom knew his fish and chips.  She tucked her knitting back into its bag before starting in on her lunch.  The pub wasn't too far from the Ministry, and it was nice to see people not attired in business casual.  She had become something of a casual, and Tom kept an eye out for her from the more unsavory characters. 

Of course, that didn't stop others from interrupting her lunch.  Mouth wide open, food currently on its way in, Tabitha stopped, blinkingly to look up at a rather made up young woman that had suddenly set herself in the facing chair.  A familiar woman.  One from stone corridors and plastic book covers.

She set the chip down hurriedly, delicately wiping the grease from her fingers on an already soiled napkin.  "Sorry?" she asked, still a bit wide-eyed from the sudden intrusion.

Food. She needed food. Her hangover would melt away if she could just get a bit of coffee in her belly and something besides the remnants of raspberry rum left sloshing against her insides. The problem? After being gone for over a month her flat was utterly empty. She hadn’t had time to restock since coming back from the Islands… well that wasn’t totally true, her liquor cabinet was in good supply - but one couldn’t survive on martini olives alone - she knew because she’d tried. That meant today was grocery day… which caused the curvaceous witch to groan a little as she exited her apartment and slipped on a part of oversized sunglasses. The winter sun seemed unusually bright this morning, which lead to her eyeballs throbbing and her stomach giving a violent jerk. She was rather lucky The Leaky Cauldron was a quick jaunt up the way and she’d more than likely be treated to a hair of the dog that bit her.

Pulling her pea coat up closer to her neck she hurried down the street. She realized with a jolt that it was sometime near or nearly after noon. Merlin she’d slept half the day away… but that was what happened when one partied all the night away. The festivities surrounding her arrival home had been joyous if taxing. Now she found herself missing the quiet of the Islands and having someone pack her breakfast every single day with nothing to worry about but a deadline. The deadline had been met, book five was off to the printing presses and all she could do was wait. It was by far the most personal thing she’d ever put into The Slither Girls series and she found herself wanting to backtrack and take much of it out. However people wanted advanced bloody copies for stocking stuffers and she was left without a choice. Merry Christmas indeed.

Slipping inside the crowded pub there wasn’t a seat to be found anywhere. Of course not, it was lunch time. There was a din in the small space that made her skin feel like it was crawling. That’s when she spotted a vacant chair across from a friendly enough looking woman, vaguely familiar but Dolly could hardly be expected to remember anything without a healthy dose of Irish Coffee…light on the coffee heavy on the Irish. Raking her fingers through her hair she dropped casually down in front of the slender Witch and gave her as dazzling a smile as she could manage, she introduced herself hastily as she slipped off her coat and tried to get comfortable. Looking back up she smiled again, “I said, I hope you don’t mind Love, but you’ve got the only seat left in the house. That’s a lovely scarf, silk?” she tried to keep her tone light though each word seemed to ripple through her brain. She needed a bloody drink.

wearing

The sunglasses hid most of the woman's face, but after a moment Tabitha knew exactly who it was.  Which made why she was sitting at Tabitha's table only more astounding.  "Erm, yes.  Thanks?" she replied, not really sure if the comment was a dig at knitting as the most boring hobby ever.  Then again, that was grade school behavior, Hogwarts pettiness fed by an overabundance of teenage hormones.  And her scarf really was beautiful, if she could say so. 

Sensing Tabitha's uneasiness, probably by the notable tremor in her voice and panicked expression, Tom strode over to the two.  "Can I get you anything, miss?" he asked the formidable Dolly St. James, as all St. James' were, particularly those of the female variety.  After he left, Tabitha determined to relax herself and prove that yes, she was older and more mature, and no she was no longer afraid of those made-up Slytherins who trampled Huffs like her with their pretty little 8-foot sharpened stiletto heels. 

Besides, this one looked too hungover.  Putting on lipstick must have been a chore.

"It-it's a gift for my mum.  How are you? It's been--oh, ages, I suppose," she added, attempting the habitual exaggeration of most women of whom she was usually intimidated.  She worked at the Werewolf Registry for Helga's sake.  Tabitha could handle a woman. "Rough night?" she asked sympathetically.  Although their worlds were far apart, Tabitha was well aware of the agonies of the hangover.

“It’s absolutely gorgeous. I’m all thumbs when it comes to doing anything remotely crafty. Can mix a good drink though,” there was half a laugh attached to the last word. She knew how hopeless she was when it came to making pretty things - it’s why she was always in awe of people who could. Now if you needed her to grow something, that she could probably still do. She wasn’t entirely sure since she hadn’t really kept in practice since leaving Professor Bombay at his wits end with distractions her seventh year. Unsnapping her coat she fanned herself a little, slipping it over slender shoulders to reveal a rather huggy peach colored sweater, gold necklace resting against he still sun kissed skin. She glanced up at Tom with a smile, “You know what I want Darling, but since I can’t get you to serve me the hard stuff before three in the afternoon, coffee, black, and a plate of chips, if it isn’t too much trouble”. Dolly was one of those creatures that flung a flirtatious energy at everyone. Sometimes it got her into trouble. Dancer, even the classy burlesque kind sometimes had to deal with people who didn’t realize it was all part of a game.

Luckily Tom knew her well enough to know she was trying to butter him up so he’d put a splash of fire whiskey in her coffee before he brought it back to her. Looking back at her new lunch companion she tried to place where she knew her from. Dolly had an excellent memory - despite the fact she drank half her brain cells away. She had to, it was part of good breeding, you had to remember inane details about people you had no interest in all the time. She could almost place her face, it was right there on the tip of her tongue. She hated when she did this because it made her look like an utter ass. It almost hurt to think this hard. And then it came to her in a flash Elliot’s girl! She was only a few grade below Dolly in school - but they ran with pretty different crowds. The brunette only registered because she remembered the first time she’d snooped through Elliot’s photo albums.

Now what was her name…it started with a T, didn’t it? Tess? No it was… “Tabitha! You used to go with Elliot Macy didn’t you?” the words came out in a rush, Dolly suddenly too pleased with herself to even be bothered she was sitting across from her ex’s ex and all the awkwardness that could imply. She gave a small nod about the hangover and looked up at Tom gratefully when he brought her coffee. It smelled good and Irish, “You’re a lifesaver Darling. There isn’t a crumb big enough for a mouse in my flat at the moment. S’what happens when you’re a naughty girl though and the boss sends you away,” she looked at Tabitha with a rather cheeky grin, “The hangover is what happens when everyone is happy to have you home”. Swallowing the black liquid she felt her body warm almost instantly, her eyes drifting closed as she made a small sound of appreciation in the back of her throat, “So what have you been up to Miss Tabitha, in these years that make me feel utterly ancient”?

"Thanks.  You'd be surprised at how easy it is to learn.  I picked it up from my grandmother's portrait last summer."  Dolly's smile was infectious and Tabitha realized just why the St. James' were so popular.  Despite the intimidation, they had an electric charm about them, the whole family.  Something that just made the air crackle. 

Oh.  As Dolly ordered her drink, Tabitha realized there was a physical aspect as well.  Boobs.  Well, breasts to be more accurate.  Large ones.  Larges ones that made Tabitha feel incredibly insecure about her own.  She sat back, consciously correcting her posture in attempt to seem not as lacking. 

Tabitha smiled, genuinely, at the mention of Elliot, "I did, a few years back.  Brilliant fellow." To be honest, the idea of being known by association with someone made her feel like part of their secret club. All the pureblooded families were a who's who of who dated who, who married who, and who said something inelegant about another who's wardrobe.  Remembering her own relationship, sweet yet brief, was a lovely moment.

"I'm glad the hangover is worthwhile.  As for myself, I've been primarily...knitting," she said, laughing at her own boring life.  How exciting. How utterly intriguing--knitting.  Sad to say that except for the Halloween Ball and her short-lived date, nothing much had happened for Tabitha.  "You?"

Dolly often didn’t register other’s peoples discomfort with their bodies. She had had to learn from an early age to roll with the punches when it came to her own. She’d been one of the first girls in her year to develop a figure and by the end of puberty put most of her friends to shame. She had had to learn to own her shape, to flaunt it, to knock back people who thought she was all pillow and no substance. Granted in the last few years she’d encouraged the idea she lacked a lot of depth, back in her Hogwarts years she felt the need to prove she could be just as smart as the next girl and look fabulous doing it. She was only aware of Tabitha’s posture because there was a sudden shift to something more rigid. Tilting her head to one side she smiled at the other woman, “You do look very much like Elli’s type. I don’t know how the devil he ever got involved with me… I blame the breasts,” again there was that laughter to her voice as she gestured to her chest, “He was my editor through the first five Slither Girls books. I owe a great amount of my success to him somehow managing to keep me sober sometimes”.

She missed Elliot sometimes - well she missed him all the time. It was sort of that familiar comfortable pair of boots feeling. Always ready and waiting for whatever adventure you wanted to go on, supportive and warm when you were dog tired and wanted to fall in on yourself. That’s what their relationship at been like. There was a vacant spot in her heart no one else could ever fill…but it was slightly smaller than the compartments taken up by Dominik that seemed to eat away at her no matter how much distance she put between them. Inhaling a deep breath, trying to relax her tensing shoulder she looked around the pub before opening her mouth again, “He’s got a new job in Paris as a speech writer for one of the Ministry department heads. He absolutely loves it. And I'm starting to think he’s met some adorable little French girl. His letters have been more chipper lately”. Was it strange she could talk so easily about the man who had left her less than seven months ago? Probably, but then Dolly St. James was a strange creature. “Really? Knitting all that time? You must have an absolute treasure trove of sweaters and scarves”!

She was rather pleased this strange conversation hadn’t yet dipped into anything that had to do with when her fifth book would be released or what it would be about. That was all anyone wanted to talk about lately. She knew she should be grateful for such interest but honestly she wished sometimes people would just forget she was in the gossip rags every other week or that she ever did anything remotely interesting. Clearing her throat she offered Tom another smile as he dropped the plate of chips in front of her, “I can feel my bottom growing as we speak. This is the most horrible time of year to worry about one’s figure. I always get terribly fat and then spend all of January trying to squeeze into a wardrobe meant for someone who’s belly doesn’t jiggle like bloody Father Christmas,” she winked at Tabitha before shaking a bit of salt and vinegar over the greasy treat and popping one past her lips, chewing thoughtfully before answering Tabs, “Traveling mostly. It’s a luxury so few are afforded. I take advantage as much as I can”

Oh, yes.  The breasts.  Tabs blamed them too, blushing discreetly the moment they said hello from under the coat.  Of course Elliot would go for them, particularly after having left the petite, A-framed--B if padded, Tabitha.  She didn't blame him though.  They were hypnotic.

She blinked once, forcing herself to look away and feeling ashamed for acting like every man she had ever complained about.  "Good for him," she replied, reinserting herself into the conversation.  Funny, she had never thought about actually keeping correspondence with him.  Tabitha suddenly felt a touch jealous of Dolly's continuing relationship with him.  She wished him well and was glad he was doing well, but she couldn't help but think about how the Parisian woman's breasts must be gigantic as well.  "Congratulations with that, by the way," she added, "My mum loves them but she keeps thinking I'm lying about how tame my own Hogwarts days were." Of course, it was partly a lie.  Tabitha devoured them, often just to look for any text about a brunette Hufflepuff standing in the corner.  One particularly described like herself.  It was wishful thinking, but pursued regardless.

Taking back up her own meal, Tabitha was glad chewing could help hide her habitual blush from Dolly's wink.  She felt like such a co-conspirator, it was exhilirating.  She swallowed, smiling back at the far curvier woman.  "More cushion for the pushin', that's all," she replied, surprised by her own daring at echoing the woman's lack of propriety. It was surprisingly easy to talk to Dolly, the St. James notwithstanding.   "I wish I could travel.  I've been saving up to visit Iceland, but I'm afraid once I get there I'll go cross-eyed from the language."  She took another bite, swallowed and picked up the next chip, twirling it in the accompanying sauce.  "Where all have you been? It must have been quite glamorous."

Dolly gave a great laugh at Tabitha’s words, shaking her head, “Too true! I suppose no one really minds it isn’t as though my social calendar suddenly goes wonky when I put on a few pounds,” she giggled as she sipped her tea, dark hair falling into her eyes. She still felt like utter crap. It just wasn’t right…well of course she had it coming when one drank as much as she had one was bound to feel like a dead prostitute in the morning. At least she’d be the prettiest dead prostitute walking, that was something, wasn’t it? Popping another fry past her lips she gave a small appreciative moan and tilted her head back, “It’s a pity you know that so many girls are anorexic, honestly food is orgasmic if you know how to appreciate it. My Mum used to tease me that most people fed their bodies to sustain themselves but I ate to feed my soul. Which I suppose is true. Paris is always my undoing. I eat nothing but carbs and sugar…and wine. Always wine,” she laughed again slumping a little lower in her chair. She liked this girl, it was easy to talk to her.

“I’ve never been to Iceland, but it sounds amazing. I’ve been to all the usual places, New York, Miami, Paris, Rome, most of that was when I was younger. I spent some time in Turkey and Africa, I would never want to pick a favorite place to be because there are so many but other than the shopping and nightlife New York and Miami are a bit overrated. Everyone goes there, I was much happier at the little Villa we stayed at in Turkey. Then again I don’t exactly remember a lot of that trip,” she gave the other woman a rueful smile. That wasn’t entirely true, she remembered having a lot of amazing sex with the Turk and then recounting it in her book. Tall, dark, and hansom men always knew how to push her buttons. Jax was the only blonde she found remotely attractive lately. Sipping her coffee she twirled a lock of hair around one finger, “So other than knitting and looking gorgeous what have you been doing with yourself?”

"Good for you," Tabitha cheered.  Of course, she didn't have much of a social calendar to boast of, though.  Sleepovers and camping, but those hardly qualified as social.  There was the Department Mixer coming up, though.  While it sounded exciting, Tabitha had the feeling her mother would choose that evening to need her particular asssistance.

"I agree.  When faced with food, I generally eat it.  Why spend time denying something when it won't count for nought in a few years anyway.  I believe in moderation, but generally leaning towards indulgence on that scale," she laughed.  Eating for the soul sounded delicious, and Tabitha's was almost always hungry.  Knitting helped with that, though.  Instead of picking up some chips when bored, she'd grab some yarn instead.  And you can't knit with greasy fingers.

All the usual places.  Oh.  "Sounds glamorous," she sighed.  And it did.  It utterly did, particularly to a girl who thought a trip to Wales was exciting.  She smiled, continuing to nod in the right places as Dolly told of her travels.  She was so jealous, but not in the terrible bitter way, just in the, well at least someone got to go on an adventure sort. 

"I've been working at the Ministry--Werewolf wing.  Nothing but a clerk, but I have high hopes.  They trick you with those internships, you know. Start low and end big? Heh.  Start low and end low.  There are girls that've been there longer than me, and no promotion in sight," she sighed.  It was rough work, and demanding, particularly on the emotions.

Dolly considered the other woman carefully as she spoke. It was rare for her to get along with women. There were a select few - usually women who shared her sense of adventure… otherwise known as loose morals. She and Daz had been close since childhood and likewise Melanthe was an old family friend. There really weren’t that many women in her social circle she enjoyed… well at least socially. In between her sheets was another matter usually. Still, women like Lia and Charlotte tended to bore her. They thought so highly of themselves they didn’t seem to know how to just let loose and have fun. In relation ot all of that Tabitha seemed to be a rare find. She was demure, curious but she held herself back. Dolly found herself wanting to get the other woman to bust loose and just experience things.

It made her sad listening to the way Tabitha had resigned herself to just doing what she was doing. Dolly had never had that problem, she’d never had to just have a job to pay bills. She had been lucky enough to be born with several silver spoons in her mouth - and two more in each hand. She wasn’t foolish enough to ask why Tabs hadn’t left - really who left a ministry job? Even if you did the same thing every single day till you died it was safe, it was steady work…all of that sounded absolutely horrific to Dolly. Swirling her coffee in her cup she pursed her lips to one side, “Have you thought about just chucking in the towel? I mean throwing caution to the wind and just running away to Iceland?”

It sounded silly when she said it out loud but that was what Dolly had done most of her life. When she had first finished Hogwarts she literally took out a map, closed her eyes and picked a spot. It was how she’d ended up in Africa. She needed to be away from Dominik, to find herself. That was probably why she still traveled so much, it was easier to forget about things when you weren’t at home waiting for owls and visits that would never come. If Dominik couldn’t find her then there was a reason he didn’t write. It was absolutely insane logic but she’d lived the last eight years of her life that way. Leaning forward she rested her chin in her hand, “Here’s a question for you - if you knew without a doubt money wouldn’t be an issue would you still want the job you have now? Is it something you care about that much?”

"I wish," she huffed.  She wiped away a bit of food from the corner of her lip, "Merlin knows I'd be broke within a week.  And while I have no qualms towards working the red light district, I doubt it'd look very good on my resume." She took another bite, chewing while she listened to Dolly's proposal. 

Tabitha smiled, lips firmly pressed against each other to keep from being rude at the same time.  She swallowed, then laughed.  "If money wasn't an issue, there are quite a few things I'd do and wouldn't do."  She paused, for a moment, however, considering her job.  There was a reason she had chosen the werewolf wing, after all. Tabitha had a heart for those afflicted by the disease and often she was one of the first that didn't look on them with hatred or prejudice.  It was terrifying at times, but Tabitha honestly wanted to help.  And if she felt as if she were helping, perhaps her answer would have been different.

 "I dunno," she replied, a touch more somber.  "I mean, I love it.  I love helping people.  I love how Gertrudis is really turning the department around.  But I'm not doing anything."

She took another bite, seriously considering her own feelings towards the job.  She often came home from work depressed or frustrated, but the steady paycheck kept her from analyzing those feelings anymore than a swift shot required of her.  "I guess, not," she sighed.  She looked down at her food, lazily picking up one of the last chips. 

Tilting her head to one side she considered the other woman carefully. Since Elliot had left as her publisher she was also somehow short a personal assistant. It had taken her some time to get her mind around just how much of her life Eli had catered to over the years. She knew she’d never replace him but she did need help getting her life back in order. Now that she was doing press for the book she’d be plunged back into chaos again and need someone to help her keep her head on straight. It wasn’t often that Dolly chatted so easily with another woman - so often there was petty jealousy.

“How does 5200 galleons a year sound, at least to start? Obliviously it would take up quite a bit more of your time than the Ministry, my life doesn’t keep a regular scheudal and I’m getting ready to launch a press tour for the new book but it means a lot of travel time,” she paused sipping her coffee, blue eyes focused on Tabitha, “Your days would be spent mostly dealing with fan mail, keeping track of appearances, getting me water for my hangover,” she laughed a little, “I could have used you this morning come to think of it,” looking for her cigarette case, she paused, “unless of course you want to keep working at the ministry”.

Tabitha's mouth dropped open on it's own accord, and she was grateful it was empty of any contents when it chose to do so.  5200 was a nice sight more than what the ministry was offering.  Interns were notoriously underpaid, if paid at all.  And here Dolly St. James was offering her a job.  A well-paying job, to be just like her! Sort of. 

She closed her mouth, swallowing as she digested the news.  "Well...," she started, not quite sure how to answer the woman.  "Yea, that'd be great, actually."  A smile began to creep across her face as Tabitha realized she'd no longer have to deal with the unfortunate afflicted ones.  Yet, she wouldn't get to help them anymore.  Not that she was.  She paused, only to repeat herself once more.

"Yea."  She could always use the extra money to help them, send campaign letters and protest and such.  She wouldn't completely abandon her cause for money's sake. "I'd like that.  When do you want me to start?"

Dolly watched as the other woman considered her offer. There was something to be said for a jump in pay grade. Dolly had never hurt for money, being a St. James came with those perks - but she had seen in her travels first hand how lack of funds afflicted growing nations outside of the UK. She kept most of her volunteer work and donations anonymous, feeling that if one is really trying to do good work the work is enough in itself to appease your sense of righteousness. She didn’t hold to the old money standard of having wings of libraries named after her. She thought it was all pomp and circumstance to the nth degree, “It is important, you understand, that by taking this job there is a certain level of trust I am placing in you. My relationship with the media is as I control it to be. There can be no leaks that I do not approve first hand,” she sounded serious for the first time since she sat down.

She didn’t often have to brief new employees, she and Eli had run this game for the first four books. He knew her better than she knew herself. They had worked the press together - which was why their relationship was such a little morsel. They did not live life in the public eye, not until the end when it had all blown up - and then she had control the story to make sure it didn’t get away from her. Having people in your back pocket and being a natural smooth talker helped in these cases. It allowed her to dismiss most of what Rita Skeeter ever wrote as complete trash. Their feud was reaching legendary proportions in recent years.

Sipping her coffee she considered her need for Tabitha’s services and gave a shrug, “I can give you until the new year if you like to wrap up anything you have going on at the Ministry, give them your notice and all of that - and a chance to enjoy the Holiday,” cupping her still cold hands around the mug for warmth she chewed on her bottom lip mentally going through her calendar. “The rest of this month is a breather for me now that the book has gone off to publishing. I’ll be hard hit though around the tenth of January. I start interviews then. The first is with Thursby from the Prophet, thank Merlin they didn’t try to send Skeeter again,” she pulled a face taking another sip, “If you start about the fourth or fifth I should have had enough time to recover from the first,” she laughed then, offering Tabitha a grin and a wink.

"Of course," Tabitha replied, echoing the sober sentiments of her new employer.  "Quiet as the grave."  A surge of energy was running through her veins, however, refusing to let her keep such a somber tone for long.  She had a new job.  Right then.  Assisting a St. James.  She was already imagining all the parties she'd have access too, as well as the resources to fight crime and discrimination against werewolves, of course.  That too.  Couldn't forget that. 

She nodded at the mention of the new year.  Of course, two weeks notice was customary and official.  She'd hate to have a bad mark on her record at the Ministry because she got too caught up in the excitement of a new post.  She wasn't sure how her parents would take it, but she was already looking forward to not going home after work depressed as all get out.  "That'd be great," she replied, glad to see humor already returning to their conversation.  "Is there anyone else I need to speak with before I get started? Or need to do?"