(no subject)

[compromisedarrow]

Who: Drinking in town, Adults only for boozings.
Where: The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade
When: After shit got real. Evening.
Format: Either
Open/Closed: Open

The Three Broomsticks offers a nice, warm and welcoming atmosphere to Hogwarts Students and Staff alike. Granted, only those of age can sample more than Butterbeer and Pumpkin Juice, it's still open to all, regardless of age.

Come in, sit down, have a drink. You're all welcome!

Comments

[inseine]

[Javert's thin lips twist and curl into a tight, dark smirk. He shoots Phil a pointed look, takes a last, long drag of his cigarette and extinguishes the butt in an ashtray.

He certainly bears the kind of expression that one of those strange wizards with the Gift would carry: cold, hard, always gazing directly through rather than at the object of his attention to some unknown point visible only to himself. His stare is rather like a man capable of reading directly into the soul.]

I was ten. Who is to say? [A casual shrug, a subtle bend over the table.] Divination is a piss-poor excuse for a science. The future is bendable. There is no exactitude. Nothing practical in forcing a sometimes-art on talentless hacks. To give a boy a chisel and tell him to exceed Michaelangelo -- These things don't happen. Teach a man to punch, and expect him to slug like an old ox.... The same. I am not a champion of the field. Far from it. And I certainly do not waste mine or the students' time coaching them in the subtleties of crystal gazing for hours on end.

[He rolls his eyes.]

And if I saw nothing at all! It could be, rather, that I learned to speak the wolf language. The secret of it all traced back to my --Ah! There they are!

[At just that moment, the barkeep returns with two full glasses, a plain water with a lemon wedge for Javert and some stupidly strong alcoholic concoction for Phil. Javert slides the necessary galleons and sickles toward the man and sends him on his way.]

By the way, [adds Javert abruptly.] Keep your goods under charm and key. The ones in your office and classroom.

[mr_professional]

[Traced back to his what? Eh, whatever. Something to keep in mind, but Phil isn't going to push that one any further. He's still working at getting a feel for Javert, and that means prodding around a little more, not going too far down one path of conversation unless it seems fruitful. Right now, everything just feels a little unsafe and a whole lot uncertain.

At least there's more booze. Thank Christ for that.] Much appreciate. [He raises the glass to Javert before taking a drink. Not too fucking bad.]

I keep my rooms pretty well-protected. [Very well-protected, and partly to keep Javert--among others--from snooping around.] There any reason in particular you're bringing this up?

And why're you teaching Divination if you don't give a rat's ass? I mean, what do, the kids just sit around while you stare at 'em for an hour? [Not that Phil cares a whole lot; he's just a little bit curious, and it's another way of putting together a clearer picture of this guy.]

[inseine]

Children have sticky fingers. [Javert shoots back wryly.] And you have shiny recreational toys they want. I warn you, lock and charm. Double-bag it.

[He sips the water and pushes it aside, his nostrils flaring with a low, derisive snort.]

Yes. You've caught me, [he murmurs.] Divination practice is a waste of time. So why not watch the clock tick for my full hour?

[Javert positively skewers Philip with a hard stare, raising his voice and his chin for an abrupt and terribly inadequate explanation,]

No, that is not what I teach. I don't encourage idleness. I would go mad.

[mr_professional]

What, you mean the magazines? [Phil raises his eyebrows, unconcerned, even moderately amused, though he keeps a straight face.] I'm sure they've got plenty to go around. Sure their fingers are sticky, too. [Of course there was the weed, along with the rest of the drugs, the guns, and a well-hidden collection of papers and assorted objects that no one on the planet's allowed to see, but so what? And what the fuck does Javert know about it, anyway? Probably nothing beyond what he might suspect, and suspicions don't count for shit in a court of law.

The guy had better not have something more than suspicions, anyway. Just to be safe, it might be best to finesse the defense further still.

Jesus, though, that sudden stare, sudden defensiveness, whatever the hell it is when Javert starts talking about what he doesn't teach. All right, all right. Something's going on there, though Phil can't say what.

Phil blinks, but otherwise keeps his expression controlled. Doesn't even respond with, 'You aren't nuts already?'. He could've though. He very easily could have.] All right. So what do you teach?

[inseine]

Practical application.

[Javert bats an eyebrow at Phil's insistence about magazines--got some Playwitch in your cupboard, Phil?--but says nothing else on the matter. He isn't fooled, but he has nothing else to bank on than his inklings. And besides, if Phil does not take heed, all of his unsavory habits will be blown open by the students sooner or later. Javert is sure of that.]

I am unconvinced that all magical folk possess the Eye, [he drawls.] Why waste time forcing the matter to the whole class? I warn them, rather. I give them the minimum, they learn the methods and discover the lack of precision themselves. Then they must learn to recognize a decent Seer from a hack. It is my opinion that occlumency and legilimency falls under my umbrella. Defense against mind-readers is a critical skill, I think. For advanced students.

Legilimency, however! [He sips his water, bending closer to his conversation partner over the table with a tricky, icy smirk.] You know how dangerous it is! That is an ugly mess. I will not teach it outside of private tutelage. And only for specific purpose.