Closed It's Not You, It's Me (But Also You)

[Professor Gabrielle Moncrieffe]

The last thing Gabrielle wanted was to be set up on a date. Not only did it reinforce the idea that she was sad and lonely and only had history books for company (which was true, but completely unnecessary to point out), but she had more important things to be doing. The History of Magic curriculum was in dire need of an upgrade, so she had been spending the school break preparing a proposal for the Ministry, as well as trying to fix up her lesson plans to make them engaging. Students who weren't so magically inclined liked History, others hated it. It all kept her busy and in far more pleasant work-Gabrielle mode, even when there weren't classes to be teaching. Non-work-Gabrielle was a different beast altogether.

Still, as she looked at one of her appalling microwave meals, she heaved a great sigh and decided it was best to at least go and say she had. Gabrielle was pretty lazy with her appearance most of the time, so she hadn't the slightest idea of how to put on makeup. Which meant she ended up with lips that were far too bright and horribly lined eyes, hastily blotted away with tissues and leaving slightly smudged remnants. There was little she could do with her hair, and she only had the one nice dress. Which strained a little as she put it on. The food at Hogwarts was far too good, she thought, desperately trying to make everything sit right as she wobbled in strappy heels and apparated near the destination. It was probably a good idea not to go in expecting the absolute worst, though Gabrielle didn't exactly have high hopes. She forced a smile anyway, a tiny part of her hoping she'd be proven wrong. Gabrielle was pretty much always right, though, so she doubted she would.

 

[Richard Madison]

Dating. It was something Richard hadn't put much thought towards since his divorce, preferring the ease of an uncomplicated one night stand, but when a friend had offered to set him up he figured there was hardly anything to lose. Worst case scenario, he'd be bored for an evening. So he had made his way over to the restaurant after work, ordering a drink as he waited for the woman and trying to remember what he had been told about her. Gabrielle, a history teacher, certainly not his usual type. Older than he was usually interested in, too. Not a great sign.

He kept one eye on the door as he was waiting, though when a woman approached his table he was dismayed to see that she definitely looked older than his type. But he was hardly going to start this off on the wrong foot, standing up with a smile and extending a hand to her. "Gabrielle, right? I'm Richard, good to meet you."

 

[Professor Gabrielle Moncrieffe]

Oh, this was 100% a bad idea, thought Gabrielle, grimly. Still, she kept a smile plastered on, at least trying to make a decent impression. Which she knew she'd probably already destroyed given how terrible she probably looked. Merlin, she knew she should've stayed home in her pyjamas. She hadn't been told too much about this man, beyond his name, and the sight of him didn't inspire her with too much confidence. "Yes, that's right," she responded, shaking his hand with an almost business-like grip, as though she was meeting one of her thesis supervisors at university again. "A pleasure to meet you, Richard," she added, politely enough. She felt absolutely too old to be going on a blind date. And the fact that he was here on one too didn't inspire a lot of confidence. If you needed to be set up on a date like this, she thought, judgementally, you were probably a bit desperate. Ignoring the obvious jab at herself there.

She took a seat with perhaps too noticeable a sigh of relief. Gabrielle never wore heels if she could help it. She very rarely had cause to dress up, and flats or sandals were much easier to get around in. Trying to maintain her work demeanour outside of work hours was hard, but she had to at least try to switch herself in to that mentality in order to maybe appear vaguely pleasant. "I'm afraid my information was rather lacking. What do you do?" Honestly, Gabrielle couldn't remember the last time she'd been on a date. She couldn't remember whether there was any specific small talk one should or shouldn't do. This seemed like a safe enough topic...for the moment.

 

[Richard Madison]

Richard kept his smile easy and professional, his handshake as businesslike as he would have given any of his colleagues. The evening may be a waste, but he definitely wasn't going to build a reputation for being rude. "Nice to meet you too." He smiled, returning to his seat as Gabrielle took her own. He looked up at her question, having already turned his attention to the menu. "Oh, I'm CEO of a large parchment company." He laughed lightly, quickly thinking of how many women he had impressed with that title. It was hard to tell whether she was just clueless or was trying to play some kind of game by pretending not to know. A woman as old as her had to be looking for a wealthy man to settle down with, and he wasn't going to play into that, though there was nothing wrong with some preening. "Nothing glamourous, but it does have the advantage of allowing us to have both magical and muggle branches, though. It's really like running two separate businesses, but profits have been well worth it." If nothing else, himself was by far Richard's favourite subject.

 

[Professor Gabrielle Moncrieffe]

((sorry its taken me so long ahh))

Gabrielle was trying very, very hard not to look bored. It wasn't easy, though. She wasn't especially astute when it came to her own interpersonal relations, apart from knowing that she wasn't the best at forming them. Parchment was at least somewhat interesting in a historical context. Perhaps that could at least carry a conversation before she inevitably never spoke to this man again. "Parchment, hm? Can't imagine you'd have very much of a market amongst muggles for it, though I suppose if you can find the niche..." she trailed off, idly tapping her fingernails against the table. It was probably (certainly) annoying. "Not to mention the difficulties I imagine you must have with appropriate use of animal skin in the manufacturing. Ethical preparation of vellum, if there is indeed such a thing." Apparently, this was her idea of a casual conversation. "Is it not fascinating that we as a society refuse to consign such things to history, rather handing these carefully created and thoroughly antiquated tools to eleven year olds who will drown them in inkblots and crude sketches of male anatomy?"

 

[Richard Madison]

((DITTO ))

The sooner this "date" was over, the better. Gabrielle wasn't even trying to look interested, a fatal mistake on her part. She should be grateful for an evening with someone so far out of her league. His mood only further soured as she started questioning and criticising what she should have been impressed by. "Oh Merlin, don't tell me you're one of those animal rights hippies." He groaned, not even bothering to try and be charming anymore. This whole thing was pointless. "Look, it's not my job to question why people use parchment, we just produce it. People were gonna kill those sheep anyway, it's not a big deal. If some stupid kid wants to draw d*cks all over their homework, so much the better for me, means they'll have to buy more. It's just business."