- Messages
- 17
- OOC First Name
- Claire
- Age
- 6/2002
There was nothing particularly unordinary about the street on which The Hippogriff's Head stood. To Muggles, the rustic wizarding tavern appeared to be little more than a disused old house between two shops. Nobody ever seemed to notice it was there, nor question its derelict structure, which was probably because it was charmed to be that way. There were many pubs like these scattered around the state of New York, but only this one saw Nathaniel Lagowski as a regular visitor. He was greeted with familiar smiles as he apparated into the dimly lit corner with a sharp 'crack'. Both the staff and fellow frequenters knew his face well, though he rarely conversed with the shadier folk who hung around in the booths near the back door.
The pub was fairly quiet today, which Nathaniel assumed had something to do with the approaching school term - that or the Quidditch game being held a few cities away. Smaller games were often wagered on by hopeful witches and wizards from neighbouring states, and it didn't do well to trust someone else to correctly relay the results. As such, what customers the bar lacked, the nearby Quidditch pitch was undoubtedly making up for.
Nathaniel sat himself down between two empty stools and ordered himself a butterbeer. Usually he might have opted for something stronger, but rumour had it that his brother Rick was in trouble with the Muggle press, and Nathan wouldn't have been surprised if Stella turned up on his doorstep at any minute for an indefinite stay. He sighed into his glass, but then smiled at the thought of seeing his twins again. Those terrors. He sure had missed them.
The pub was fairly quiet today, which Nathaniel assumed had something to do with the approaching school term - that or the Quidditch game being held a few cities away. Smaller games were often wagered on by hopeful witches and wizards from neighbouring states, and it didn't do well to trust someone else to correctly relay the results. As such, what customers the bar lacked, the nearby Quidditch pitch was undoubtedly making up for.
Nathaniel sat himself down between two empty stools and ordered himself a butterbeer. Usually he might have opted for something stronger, but rumour had it that his brother Rick was in trouble with the Muggle press, and Nathan wouldn't have been surprised if Stella turned up on his doorstep at any minute for an indefinite stay. He sighed into his glass, but then smiled at the thought of seeing his twins again. Those terrors. He sure had missed them.