Friday nights were always the busiest nights of the week, and this one was no exception - just after eleven-thirty in the evening and the club was bouncing. Finn took his blood-red wand from his cloak pocket and flicked it casually at a stack of dirty glasses by the end of the bar. They sprang up with life immediately and dunked themselves in the soapy water that was in the sink towards the middle of the bar. He looked down the bar, idly watching the patrons as they went about their conversations. Some looked as though they were holding their alcohol pretty well, and others--

A woman stumbled over her own feet and fell face-down on the floor. Finn winced and sucked in some are through his teeth. That had to have hurt. Her friends were stood, pointing and laughing, and nobody else around her paid her any heed except for acknowledging that she was splayed out at their feet, and they had to step over her. Eventually she got up, dusted herself off as she teetered on those ridiculously high heels, and stalked off towards the ladies toilets. For a moment it crossed Finn's mind to send one of his female barstaff in after her and make sure she hadn't flushed her own head down the toilet - that had happened once before, and it hadn't been a pretty sight - but he saw her friends traipse in after her, and assumed that although they hadn't bothered to help her before, they would at least be good enough to stop her from almost drowning herself.

A witch was elegantly perched on the edge of a table, with her haphazard blonde locks twisting over her shoulders and down her back, as she proudly clunked an empty glass on the table and raised her arms to a much more glazed-looking witch.

"Hah!" Naila chirped through her own alcoholic shine as her competitor turned sickly and white as she skimmed the top off her drink and forcefully slammed it on the table and started to walk away with her own audience. But the half-veela leaned back with a devilish smile as she watched the retreating woman try and pull off the wobbling balancing at this woman was trying to manage. Then her heels caught an awkward step, she tipped, and hit the floor.

Laughter immediately followed as Naila wiggled her bare toes, suddenly happy at the her tossing aside her own heels earlier, out of convenience. But the other woman collected herself quickly and her own entourage of women led her the bathroom--where--Miss Ferrari presumed after a drinking contest, she would throw up.

"Ok, ok," the tall blonde shooed away the laughter as she heaved herself onto her feet and latched onto the nearest hunk of arm, "Go on," she spoke with a French slur but still the piped with the pep of an Italian, "toss me up on the stage and I'll serenade you all."

Naila now perched on the edge of the stage ignoring whatever was going on behind her, along with her fans, and happily called out, "Any requests before I steal the stage?"  She wasn't expecting much from them, getting the usual mix of genres, rock songs, band names, classics, but then she heard a few famous names, one of which her mind made quick work of before her brows narrowed with a grin and her blue eyes pulled her gaze around to the stage.

She rolled onto her feet and hopped over to the nearest stand, and stilled herself with it, before robbing it of its microphone. She was very clearly tipsy but she had enough of a spark to her walk, a glint in her eye, and a charm at her disposal, that she was getting away with hogging the spotlight:

"They say lightning doesn't strike twice in the same place," Her melodic voice drew out and lingered in the room as the noise of the crowds and the previous musical piece crawled into silence.

"But try and tell that," she arched a brow and pulled herself closer to the microphone, while gulping her tone lower,  "to the boy who got zapped..."

She grinned to her captivated crowd, pausing before her voice jumped to a happy speed, "AK-ed twice across his face!" The half-veela planted her bare feet on the bottom of the stand, as the room filled with modest laughter. Then she stepped to the other side of the stand and continued.

"From first to sixth it was all the same shit," Naila sang with a clever husk, as her eyes ran across the ceiling,
"A tasty meal for a Beast," her pace quickened,
"Late to the mid-day feast,
skipping class, sneaking out--" She leaned back as she slyly peered over her shoulder to the audience, "Think he got tired of this schtick?"

The laughter broke out again, and Naila stuck out her tongue as she pushed her blonde locks on top of her head. The great part of being a celebrity was that Naila could say and have an opinion on anything and it didn't matter who loved it or hated it, as long as she got attention for it. Despite how wonderful she sounded she was sure her time to topple onto the stage was inevitable, but she would effortlessly sing away to the Signature club until she did.

 "Always breaking the rules--
But whose got time for school,
when you're taking down You-know-who," She rolled down an arpeggio before she sprang into a small chorus,

"Bucked to the storm there's no mucking up--
no one can get by this way," she nodded and wagged a finger at the crowd,
"So he went to make a living, something's a giving, bustling to save the day!"

She was met with a hearty helping of applause and laughter as she finished her little limerick, "Someone throw me another name!" she crooned to the crowd.

Finn took to drying some of the previously washed glasses by hand, passing away the night with idle bar work. He knew it would have been much quicker to use his - wand which had recently been returned to his robe pocket - but quick work meant more time spent on the other side of the bar, and since the night was young he decided it was best if he paced himself. He always ended up with a good few drinks bought for him by punters, and a stotting headache the next morning. It was something he simply didn't want to deal with, as it had taken him the best part of the day to pull himself round from the previous night.

Finn shoved a tea-towel inside one of the glasses and mushed it down, swivelling the glass in his hand to dry the inside of it as best he could. His eyes scanned the bar, the dance floor, the tables and the stage, stopping at a stunning witch with long blonde hair. The young wizard stopped mid-swivel as he watched her jump up onto the stage and artfully steal one of the mics from the stands.

The band looked flummoxed at the new arrival, but quickly settled down next to their instruments to listen to the musical limerick, laughing along with the rest of the crowd. Finn snickered along with everyone else, resuming his glass-drying. She had a great voice, the husky kind of voice that suited Signature perfectly. Finn knew that the regulars (and indeed the irregulars) loved a pretty face and a mysterious voice. This witch had it perfected, it seemed.

As she finished, the applause, cheers for more and laughter was overwhelming, and Finn joined in with the applause, holding the glass and tea-towel in one hand and slapping his other hand against the bar. This was why he loved his job; no night was ever the same, and there were no rules at Signature. Well, except for tell someone if you vomit - especially if you've been drinking Common Welsh Green cocktails. They were always a bitch to clean up the next day.

"Finnley Grosvenor!"

"Wha--" Finn looked up from the glass he had resumed the drying of, a confused expression gracing his features. He looked to the source of the slurred, excitable voice, and saw one of his regulars holding a glass up to him. The majority of people around the dark room had now turned to look at the bar where Finn was stationed. Had he missed something?

Oh curses, Grosvenor was a name she was familiar with, but the surname didn't bring forth anyone to mind; it was hard being away from London for so long. But then lucked served her well, as it seemed the whole bar, the whole club, turned towards one man. Naila's blue eyes honed in on the man, momentarily admiring the fine specimen through a drunken glaze, before the proper words and a proper tune began to form in her head and play on her lips:

"Oh Hogsmeade, how long has it been?," her voice teased the tune lightly before she jumped to a quicker tune, and one of the band members hopped along the tune with her,
"For me to miss such a man,
in such a fine place as this," her lips then pursed into a gentle pout as she continued, as another band member jumped in,

"but wasting, and washing away with an empty glass, in a bar, in a place, at such a fine night?," she reached out at Finnley as she narrowed a witchy smile in his direction,

"Dear, I think you need a few shots," her voice danced lightly around the lyrics,

"make out the dark,
then the stars,
then the fireworks,
don't get caught,
and get a chance,"

She turned a shoulder to him as she pulled her arm in with a forefinger clawing the air towards her, as her voiced dipped into a sultry hum, "And let someone send you up here for a dance," the band broke out into a full song as the club got riled up again, and all Naila could do was relish in the moment and anticipate Finnley Grovenor's arrival onstage.

Finn laughed and shook his head as the blonde witch let her words dance into the mic and her sultry tones reverberate around the room. He looked down at the glass in his hand as it was given a mention in the song, and twisted his face at it slightly. Maybe she was right - why on earth was he cleaning glasses by hand? Was he a man or a wizard?!

Putting the glass and tea-towel down in front of him, he rested the palms of his hands against the edge of the bar and leaned forwards slightly, watching the blonde with amusement. She was clearly having a lot of fun with teasing him. Upon suggesting he needed a few shots, one of his bar staff promptly poured a steaming green liquid into a shot glass and smoothly curled it down the bar, letting it glide to a halt in front of Finn.

Finn picked up the shot glass and raised it in a toast to the singer, before sinking it back and shaking his head as the steam filtered down his throat and seemed to explode into every part of his body. He slammed the shot glass on the bar as people cheered, and sending the glass back down the bar with a smoothness to rival his employee's own, he flashed a grin.

Her last line threw him. His expression fell slightly as her finger was crooked at him and the punters all cheered, motioning for him to enter the stage as the music got louder and faster. He shook his head and held his hands up as though to keep them back. "No - no I can't." He laughed as two of his staff pushed him out the end of the bar and towards the stage. A group of rowdy drinkers had now surrounded him and were gently manhandling him towards the stage. His laughed protests did nothing to abate their advances, and he quickly ended up being hoisted up onto the stage.

Finn ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "Uh..." He grinned sheepishly at the witch and half-shrugged, not knowing what he was supposed to do now he was up there.

Naila flashed the man a smile as she moved from using the mic stand as a leaning post and, instead, artfully reached for him, picking his hand out of his hair and parking it on her waist as she braced a hand on the man's shoulder, "Oh, come darling," she drawled, "Surely you know how to dance?"

She laced his free hand with hers and let her eyelids fall innocently, "I'm hardly in a state to lead," if she hadn't drunk herself into such a tease then she truly would have considered the idea, it wasn't an impossible affair, in her mind. Then the witch shook back her gold locks as she peeked a predatory smile. Her hand lifted from his shoulder and tapped a dainty finger against his lips, "And if you proclaim to me anything of the contrary you are a wicked liar."

The crowd seemed to celebrate and cheer as they went on with their own merriment and drinking again, and after Naila worked her magic on Mr. Grosvenor she would have to jump back off the stage and indulge in the nonsense as well.

"Surely you know how to dance?"

Finn laughed as his hand was placed artfully on her hip. "Yes...yes, I know how to dance. I just prefer not to in front of..." He jerked his head in the direction of the hoards of people on the dance floor, the majority of whom were too inebriated to actually focus on what was happening on the stage, letalone care.

As the witch commented on her inability to lead and tapped his lips with her finger, Finn grinned and tightened his grip on her, moving his arm further around her waist skilfully. "I wouldn't dream of contradicting you." The slow intake of alcohol was suddenly working its way into his blood stream, helped along by the last large measure he had downed at the bar before his dancing debut on stage.

His confidence grew somewhat, and he swayed the blonde easily this way and that, careful not to let himself get too arrogant lest he trip up. "So you know my name...what's yours?"

"No need to be shy," Naila crooned as Grosvenor voiced his doubts, and then he finally settled into accepting her as a dance partner. Now that she was being swayed by a fine gentleman, the witch considered her night well spent, at least for the time being.

"Naila Ferrari," she rolled off her name, with a hint of pride and nonchalance, "Am reacquainting myself with Scotland and all, if you would forgive me," she glanced around at the festivities as a sot laugh tickled her throat. "Although..." blue eyes brushed back over the younger wizard's figure as he pulled her and swayed her this way and that, "You could familiarize yourself with the more risky side of dancing, Mr. Grosvenor," as if either of them would be able to keep something like that up. Naila knew full well the reality of that prospect, but she couldn't resist playing with the thought and teasing another with it.

"But I don't take it you normally work the bar either," an eyebrow arched up into the shade of stray stands of blond hair, still out of place from her dynamic onstage performance, which was still an ongoing project for her.

The witch's assurance that Finn had no need for shyness was met with a chuckle of skepticism. He found, however, that it was easier to dance with her when the majority of his punters were either preoccupied with their drinks, other punters, the bar, or otherwise too engaged with their own drunkness to notice them.

"Pleasure, Miss Ferrari." Finn smiled at her introduction. "And I'm afraid this is as risky as my dancing gets, unless you wish to bear witness to a disastrous attempt at crowd surfing?" Not that he would ever consider allowing the crowd that was here tonight to support him in that attempt.

"But I don't take it you normally work the bar either,"

"You'd be surprised. I try to help my staff as often as I can. I prefer getting to know my customers, rather than spending all of my time filling in orders and paperwork. I try and interact on the wrong side of the bar as often as is possible for me." He grinned. Some people considered it to be a silly feat of the young businessman. 'Sit back and reap the benefits', a phrase he had heard all-too-often, and one that he tried not to put into practice.

"And yourself? Do you often find yourself sacking off the band in clubs and taking over the stage and microphone?"

• "And I'm afraid this is as risky as my dancing gets, unless you wish to bear witness to a disastrous attempt at crowd surfing?"

The witch sighed a dreamy and disappointed purr from her lips as her dance partner denied her a rather exciting dance, "I absolutely refuse to hand you over to anyone just yet," she smiled at him with a lazy wink of her lashes as she leaned her body closer to him and shook a bang from her face.

Then he said customers and Naila lowered her chin with a curious pout of her peach-colored lips, as he went on to ask her of her own hobbies. She smiled and shimmied a shrug of her shoulders,"Oh always. Music should be bold, brash, and beautiful,"her voice rang off before she added with a playful growl, "With some other lovely and garish things mixed in there also, besides your customers should meet you halfway," her blue gaze mischievously locked with his, "They should try to know you as well."