Well, there was one last night of freedom before the start of a boring term at Hogwarts, and damned if Griselle was going to do anything other live it up.  She had heard through a friend about tonight's special at Spellpunk, and that seemed like a perfect way to end the winter holiday with a bang.  However, getting to the party was always the more complicated part.  After the particularly nasty argument she had with her aunt that morning, Griselle was not about to ask for permission to go out.  So, she waited until after midnight and snuck out.

There was a short line outside the entrance to Spellpunk.  She recognized quite a few of the people waiting outside from school, and there were also a few others who were in uniform but looked much too old to still be students.  Griselle was, of course, dressed in her own uniform to take advantage of the discounted cover charge, but she had done quite a lot to jazz it up.  She had the waistband of her skirt rolled up to make it shorter, her tie tied loosely, sleeved rolled up, and collar popped.  She also wore fishnet stockings and her favorite part of boots.

Griselle quickly found a few friends in the line, ignoring any people she might have jumped in front of, and after a short wait and a bit of idle chatter, she got up to the front of the line, paid the doorman, and entered the club through the door of the tiny shop front and then down the lift.

The place was already hopping when Griselle walked in, and she made her first priority getting something to drink.  She worked her way through the crowd to the bar.  While she was trying to decide she saw someone nearby sipping on something that was a violent, slightly glowing shade of blue.  That looked fun.  "I'd like one of those," she said to the bartender.  He nodded and began mixing up the drink, and Griselle's eyes darted around, looking for more people she knew.

When the drink was ready, Griselle paid the bartender, took her drink, and began to mill around a bit.  As she sipped from her blue drink--which had an intense cooling effect on her tongue--she turned her attention to the dance floor, looking for someone attractive to dance with.  She had a feeling this would be a great night.

Meredith had resigned herself to the fact that she would get little to no sleep the week before Spellpunk opened and the week after. But so far, they had opened with a band that looked like it was continuing with this student night. She fully expected business to drop a little once school began, but the response from the graduates seemed strong enough even without the students.

Even so, Meredith decided she needed to have student nights more often during breaks from Hogwarts. The turnout seemed excellent. Oh she saw a few "students" that looked to be in their tenth year but so long as they caused no trouble, she didn't really mind. The purpose of tonight was to raise interest so that more profit could come later.

While she encouraged her staff to wear some of their house or school colors, Meredith herself did not. She was the club's owner, not a patron. So she choose a purple tie and hat to go along with her usual pinstripe pencil skirt and pressed blouse.

Tonight she was doing what she had been since opening night- walking around the club, helping behind the bar if needed and keeping an eye out for trouble and unhappy faces. If something wasn't working, she would know as soon as possible from the patrons and correct it immediately.

Meredith spotted a girl in a rather punkish version of a uniform and her mouth twitched upward into a smile.

"How is your drink?" Meredith asked, walking up to the blonde.

Griselle had another sip of her icy blue drink as she continued to examine the dance floor.  Sadly, it seemed like anybody who looked like they might be worth dancing with was already grinding up against somebody else.  Maybe she'd have better luck once the next song started and everyone shifted around a bit.  In the mean time, Griselle focused her attention on her drink.  She wondered briefly if it would be even better with alcohol.  Probably.  So far her experiences with drinking were still limited to stealing sips out of her aunt's liquor cabinet.  One of these days she was actually going to get drunk at a party.  One of these days.

Her train of thought was interrupted when she was approached by an older woman wearing a very nifty purple hat.  Griselle did not recognize her as the club's owner, but the way she carried herself led Griselle to assume that she was probably someone important.  "It's great," she answered, totally unaware of the fact that her drink had turned her tongue the same shade of bright blue.  "I've got no idea what's in it, though, but whatever it is I like it!"

Meredith smirked in amusement when she got flashes of the girl's blue tongue as she spoke. She had to say, coming up with a variety of non alcoholic drinks had one of the most time consuming parts of Spellpunk and without any of the perks testing alcoholic cocktails.

She was pleased that the girl liked the drink- it meant they were doing something right.

"That would be the Bluebell Firewhiskey mix," Meredith told the student- unassumingly a Slytherin by her uniform. "Sans the actual firewhiskey of course."

Meredith herself was hardly a proponent of stopping underage drinking, but on a night where they could be getting a crowd of eleven and twelve-year-olds, she kind of had to. Well, at least it was good for business and they didn't have to worry up about someone vomiting on the floor.

"I'm Meredith Renfield- I'm the owner," she introduced herself. "Is this your first time?"

She was the owner?  That must have been why Griselle sensed that she seemed important.  She thought about it for a minute, and it made sense.  Nobody else in the club seemed so refined and businesslike, not to mention well dressed.  She did feel a bit silly for not figuring it out herself, but at the same time she felt honor.  What made her special enough to earn a random conversation with the owner?  Griselle decided not to question it too much.  Something made her special enough, she was sure of it.

"Yeah, it's my first time," she answered.  "I would have liked to come by sooner, but my aunt hardly lets me do anything."  She briefly began to wonder about how long she had been out and how much longer she should stay out before sneaking back home, but her desire to enjoy herself quickly destroyed any fleeting feelings of responsibility or good judgment.  She directed her attention back to the dance floor again--where nothing much had changed since the last time she looked--and then back at the owner.

First timer. She looked like she was enjoying the night so far. Good. The entire target for Spellpunk was not Meredith's usual market. It had come into fruition by talking to employees and other acquaintances enough to realize that there was a market for this sort of thing. To Meredith, the place looked superb. But that might not be the same for other students or young adults. She wanted to know exactly what their thoughts were to make it better, bring in more profit more information and eventually recruit from the ranks of regulars. Maybe she could send out some owls with surveys to students during the coming term- closer to Easter holiday of course. Or maybe stop by Hogsmede during their next weekend off? Hmm. Decisions, decisions.

Meredith smiled in sympathy. "Ah. Restrictive guardians," she said. "My condolences. Was it because they thought you were too young for clubbing or just don't like you going out in general?"

She was hoping student nights like this might help her in the eyes of parents as well, since common knowledge said nothing could stir up trouble like an angry concerned parent, regardless of if that concern was legitimate or not. This catering to youth was just full of new challenges. She would almost be glad for Hogwarts to start up again and the only patrons that would visit would already be of age.

"Do you like the music?" Meredith asked. "I admit I might not be as up to speed on the latest trends and popular artists as your classmates. I'm looking to have another one of these events after you all return for Easter and I'd like to make it even better than tonight. "

"I just think she doesn't want me to have any fun," Griselle answered with a little laugh.  She was partly joking, but only partly.  Sometimes it really did seem like Aunt Georgina liked keeping her from having a good time, or liked seeing her feeling miserable, or something twisted like that.  "Anyway," she continued.  "Everything's great.  I think you worry too much."

Griselle did like knowing that her opinions mattered, but she did feel like the conversation was getting a little too business-like for her tastes.  The dance floor was calling her name, even though there still didn't seem to be anyone worth dancing with.  She paused to take a particularly long gulp of her drink before going on.  "I'll probably be back for Easter, then, if my aunt hasn't gone completely insane.  I swear, she gets worse every day.  I'm surprised she hasn't started locking me in my room yet."

Meredith's eyes followed the girls' gaze to the dance floor. Hmm, perhaps the thread of conversation wasn't really to her interest she looked a little bored. Meredith had to admit she was a little at a loss for conversing with children. The best she could do was treat them as she would any other adult, which sometimes worked well and sometimes not. This is why Meredith would probably rarely be on the bar staff for Spellpunk unless absolutely necessary. She just didn't understand youth, even though she herself was still in the age range of the Spellpunk's target audience, she herself certainly felt much, much older.

Still, she recognized the value in securing the patronage and young witches and wizards. And some of them might end up working for her even. Working and holding conversations with was just going to have to be one of those things she worked on instead of delegated.

"Oh really?" Meredith raised an eyebrow when the girl continued talking about her restrictive aunt. "That seems...excessive." She paused, considering everything the girl said. Either she was being a teenager and exaggerating over the evil things her guardians were doing. Or...

"You snuck out," Meredith said, a little smile forming on her lips. "Well done. I think that deserves another drink- on the house. Did you walk or tap a little into your aunt's Floo powder supplies while you were at it?"

There was something she could talk about...degeneracy.

A huge grin came over Griselle's face.  She was beginning to feel very comfortable around the older woman.  Nobody other than a few friends her own age ever praised her when she got away with doing something she shouldn't--which she thought was a real shame, some of her delinquent schemes were pretty impressive and certainly praise worthy.  "Yeah, I used the Floo powder.  I'm from Oxford, it's a little too far to walk," she answered, as if sneaking out of her house and off to a city many miles away just to party was no big deal.  "I've done it before, but it's tricky to get away with."

Now that the topic was back to something Griselle was a bit more familiar with, she felt something unusual happening: she actually wanted to linger around a little longer and talk with an adult, and a successful business-minded one at that, not the interesting yet lazy ne'er-do-well drifters she occasional liked being around (and felt like she was destined to become).  Maybe it was the way Meredith seemed to understand her frustration with her aunt, maybe it was just because she seemed so damn cool, or maybe it was just because she was wearing a really great hat.  Griselle wasn't quite sure, but the reason didn't really matter much.

"Getting back home without being seen is the hard part," she continued.  "I guess you used to do some wild stuff when you were my age too?"

Meredith noted the grin on the girl with pleasure. There. This wasn't so hard, after all. Maybe Meredith would get the hang of this after all.

"Oxford?" Meredith asked. "Quite a beautiful place, especially the Muggle University. Not quite as colorful as London, though." Meredith had been to Oxford a few times. It was quite the city with a rich history almost as long as Hogwarts itself. Of course not all wizards could appreciate it, so Meredith tended to stick with just admiring the physical beauty of the place. Lots of tourism (though not as much as London) but not really much of a market for Meredith, though maybe down the line she could open up another muggle Calaveras there.

Meredith nodded in agreement when the girl said the hardest part was coming back. "Oh without a doubt," she said with a little laugh. "If you don't get caught, you didn't do anything wrong."

Words to live by. And whoever said it was easier to beg forgiveness than ask permission must have led a very strange life indeed.

"Well I didn't exactly skip town to come to a nightclub," Meredith said when asked. "But yes, I had a few wild adventures of my own, mostly around my own city. There is something... exhilarating about being out on your own at night in the city."

Mostly after graduation. She had been a little on the timid and shy side in school, and she had snuck out to cinemas to watch double features of fifties flicks.

"Of course, I'm not sure exactly how old you are....5th or 6th year?" Meredith asked. "And I don't have your name either. I'm Meredith."

Not quite as colorful as London.  Well, that was an understatement if ever Griselle heard one.  She honestly found Oxford quite boring and old-fashioned, and, in her experience at least, she found that most people who went on about its history or beauty never had the experience of actually living there.  Sure, it was probably a nice place to visit, but it wasn't the best place to live if you were the type who lived for excitement and adventure.  Though, maybe some of her bookish Ravenclaw classmates would love it.

Griselle continud to listen to Meredith and laughed a bit at what she said about getting caught.  Again, it was nice to have somebody share her same line of thought, she had been saying the same thing for years.  And, maybe it was a bit extreme to go so far out of her way to have some fun, but she still found it perfectly reasonable.  It was the last night before school started.  She was a little desperate.  You do what you need to do. 

"I'm a fifth year," Griselle answered when asked about her age.  "My name's Griselle.  Awful, isn't it?  Everyone on my Mum's side of the family has the worst names ever.  I guess she wanted to keep up the tradition."

It really just showed that background meant nothing when it came to potential and personality. Certainly the Slytherin girl looked a far cry from Oxford and Meredith liked to think that she hardly resembled the poorer part of Manchester. And yet, here they were defying stereotypes and expectations. Meredith liked certainty it business- it helped keep things afloat. But she couldn't deny the excitement or thrill of the unexpected, or how she could change a pair of twos into a royal flush.

She wasn't sure that sort of mentality was needed in a conversation with a student, but then again, one never knew. Some students had family connections with clients and contacts of Meredith's. It was a food foundation for future business ventures.

"Griselle?" Meredith repeated, raising an eyebrow. "My, my. Certain wizarding families do have an...interesting taste in baby names. Thankfully my parents decided to go with Meredith. It's a little less...ear catching but it's serviceable."

And elegant. To be honest, Meredith was a fan of her own name. It was classic. It could be the name of a film noir star. Her parents had been poorer than church mice, but they gave their children names befitting the upperclass. At least in muggle society.

"Do you have a surname, Griselle?"

Meredith certainly was certainly right about some of the more 'interesting' wizarding names, and that was probably the most polite way of putting it.  Griselle would be more likely to call them 'bizarre' or even 'jacked up.'  She took another sip of her blue drink and momentarily reflected on some of the stranger names of her own relatives: Alexandrina, Arabella, Georgina.  'Griselle' was probably the strangest one out of all of them.  She was sure that if she ever ended up with children, they'd have nice, normal names--not that she ever intended to procreate or anything.

"Knolly," she answered, with a faint hint of disgust, when Meredith asked about her last name.  "It's an old family, and I can't stand most of them.  We're about as dysfunctional as they come."  Griselle looked back at her drink for a moment.  Dysfunctional didn't begin to describe it. 

Knolly. Knolly. She knew that last time. Wasn't there a former Death Eater named Knolly? Meredtih had still been a schoolgirl when the second war had broken out, but she had since done her homework, especially when it concerned Death Eaters. She often had to work with former members of He Who Must Not Be Named factions so it paid to be prepared. Plus, she was a little afraid of the dirty bastards. No code of honor among them.

Death Eater or no Death Eaters, Meredith went through the papers every day, looking for arrests and convictions, making a note of who was being taken away for what and for how long. Sometimes, if a person looked especially interesting, Meredith would be waiting after they got out with a cigar that cost more than a wand, a warm bed without bars and a business proposition.

She did have to wonder if the Knolly she was thinking of was in any relation to the girl standing here. From what Griselle said- an old family, dysfunctional. It was likely. Most Death Eaters were purebloods and most purebloods were related to each other. A close family relationship could be...interesting. Of course the girl could also be exaggerating like teenagers were known to do.

God she could use a smoke. Shame she was keeping things non smoking for the sake of the little ones.

"You're surname sounds familiar," Meredith said, deciding to investigate further. "I'm trying to recall if I know anyone else from that family."

"

Griselle was not surprised at all to hear that her family name sounded familiar.  This wouldn't be the first time a stranger recognized her name, and that was always something that rubbed Griselle the wrong way.  She wasn't exactly thrilled to have a name with such a dark history following her around everywhere she went.  Still, she doubted that Meredith actually knew any of her relatives.  Knew of them?  Probably, but her actually knowing them seemed unlikely.  Griselle thought that Meredith didn't seem like the kind of person who would rub shoulders with Death Eaters--she seemed way too cool to be involved in all that bull.

"I don't think you'd know any of them.  My parents were pretty messed up, and they've been in Azkaban for a while."  Griselle's disgust with her own family was clear in the tone of her voice.  "You might know some of my mum's family, though.  The Gosetts?  I've still got a few aunts who haven't completely lost it yet."