Josh's Place

Tristan Drage

Tristan Drage

Missing
 
Messages
1,386
OOC First Name
Amanda
Blood Status
Pure Blood
Relationship Status
Widow
Age
August 9, 1978 (76)
A bead of sweat trailed down Tristan's temple as he apparated to Josh's place in New Zealand, inviting himself inside and waiting for his old friend to appear. And immediately started to look around for some parchment; there were two letters he had to send: one for confirmation of some information, and the other to sabotage one that he despised.
 
Josh arrived just a few seconds after Tristan. He locked the door to the place from the inside with a quick flick of the wand, and drew the blinds shut with another. "What the HELL was that guy doing there? Were we set up? And what are you looking for?" Josh added, suddenly chuckling at his friend's search of his place. "Stop tearing the place up. I will find what you need."
 
Tristan whipped around to look at Josh, his ice blue eyes cold. "Someone knew something," he muttered, digging through the drawers.

As Josh asked what he was looking for, he grunted, "Parchment... ink.. a quill maybe.." And continued to forage, even though it was kind of rude. He was being very obsessive in his rage at the moment.
 
"Okay. Calm down." With a flick of Josh's wand, parchment and quill flew to the desktop. With another flick, a bottle of ink flew to join them. "There. Want a drink?" Josh asked as he walked over to the bar in the corner, pouring himself a large glass of firewhiskey.
 
Tristan shook his head. "If you have a glass of water, I'll gladly take it." Hurriedly snatching the parchment and quill from the desktop, using the hovering charm to bring the bottle of ink to the coffee table along with them. "I have a few letters to write," he grunted, taking a seat down on the couch, and then looking up to Josh, his expression drawn. "I don't think you should stick around here much longer, chap; if the ministry knew where we were today, they'll figure out soon where you are taking residence." With that said, he dipped the quill in ink, his hand shaking as he tried to think of what to write, a dark smudge blotting the paper.
 
Josh nodded and got Tristan a glass of water. "I was just thinking the same thing. I have been here too long anyways. Maybe I will head off to the States to find a place. California is always a good place to blend in." He gave him the glass, then crossed back to the bar to retrieve his own glass. Moving to the chair, he sat and took a long drink, savoring the warm liquid. "Who are you writing to? Can I help?"
 
Tristan's hands were shaking as he took the water, spilling a few drops of it over the parchment, but regaining control over himself, he set it down on the table, putting his head in his hands. "The States are nice; I've only really been to the Midwest, but it wasn't too bad. You would be recognized less easily there," he said, picking up the quill once more and putting his quill to the paper.

He took a deep breath, and explained, "To the Daily Prophet."
 
Josh almost choked on his whiskey. "The Prophet? What are you writing to that rag for?" Then a realization hit Josh and made him sit up. "Wait. That guy is undercover at the school isn't he? You are gonna out him. Brilliant!" He sat back in the chair and smiled.
 
Tristan took a long draught of his water, sighing deeply as the cool liquid slipped down his throat, exterminating the dryness and calming him considerably. He continued to hold the quill over the parchment, and he nodded. "Yeah, I figured as much. I mean, you normally know the names of Aurors, and you'd think that his efforts would be more publicized, considering his role in Stark Manor and at the school. I"m pretty sure he's trying to keep it from the world." He grinned maliciously, starting to write. "I say we do the chap a favor and give him his fifteen minutes of fame, don't you think?"

Starting to write, he attempted to word the letter as best as he could, trying to make it sound as enticing as possible.
To the Daily Prophet,
I've noticed that you seem to be dry on ideas lately, and I am offering a story about a certain undercover Ministry worker. 
If you are interested, meet me in the Leaky Cauldron tomorrow afternoon.  Come alone; otherwise, you will lose the story opportunity.
Sincerely,
The Source
Click to expand...

"How does that look?" he inquired of Josh, figuring that he needed to get this to his owl, Alexander.
 
Josh read over the letter and handed it back to Tristan. "Sounds good man. Need some back up for that meeting tomorrow?" He sat down in his chair and took another long drink. "Oh, and if you want to borrow my owl, he is in the bedroom over there." He made a motion towards the hallway leading to his room.
 
"I might need some back up," Tristan muttered, "In case anything goes wrong; I don't feel like getting picked up by the Ministry." With a grim expression, he sealed the envelope, moving into the room where the owl was. Tying the letter around the owl's leg, he told the owl the name of a recipient, opening the window so it could soar to its destination.

Sighing, he shut the window, thinking that if the owl returned soon, he might consider sending a letter to his daughter. Even if she didn't reply, he would feel a lot better about it.

He smiled grimly as he sat down on the couch, picking up his glass of water. He grimaced as his back cracked, and he grumbled to Josh, "Damn, I think I am getting to old for this; hopefully I'll get Far's genes and keep these stupid wrinkles at bay." He sighed as he took a sip of his water, thinking in disdain that his dark hair was starting to pepper with gray. Thankfully, he wasn't starting to bald; that was a blessing in itself.
 
"Not a problem," Josh responded from his chair. "You know I will watch your back, even if it is getting old." He chuckled as he teased his friend, knowing that he was the older of the pair. "Do you know who we are meeting tomorrow?"
 
Tristan shook his head jokingly, muttering, "Alright, smartass. It's kind of a scary thing though, when your kid just keeps getting older and older."

Adjusting his leg to cross it over his knee, he replied about the inquiry of the person they were meeting, "I can't really tell you for sure, but I can say one thing; if I know the Daily Prophet, it'll of course be a sleazeball looking to get any incriminating story. Revealing our auror bud's little secret should be nice for them, since all they process is crud anyway."
 
"Yeah, your kid getting older," Josh repeated sadly. He started thinking of Blake and the dissappearing act that Cloe had pulled with him. He drained his glass and then spoke again. "Well, this will be a step up from the normal drivel they print. Can't wait to see how it all goes down."
 
Tristan was about to comment on kid's, but noticed that it had seemed to irk Josh in some way, and he reflected that after Cloe leaving, it was probably not the best time to discuss his own family life, no matter how torn and scattered it may be. "I just wish I could see the look on King's face when he reads it," he replied, smirking, wondering if King would figure him out as the source. "It would seriously make my day."
 
"Yeah, that would be the icing on the cake to see his face," Josh replied. "So, tomorrow, are we going as us or are we in need of potions?"
 
"We're going to the Leaky Cauldron," Tristan replied, nervous even though he knew he would be fine, a bit unsettled by the day's episode with King, "So we'll definitely need to wear disguises. In any case, both of our faces are on that very paper, so we'll need to Polyjuice. If I know journalists, they're not going to care who or what their source of information is as long as they get a good story." He drained his water glass, sitting back a bit in the chair and making himself comfortable.
 
Josh nodded at the words from Tristan. "Understood. I really don't relish a trip back to Azkaban. Do you have access to the juice or do I need to find some?"
 
"I have access," Tristan said with a smirk, "I am sure that I could lend you some." He considered himself lucky that Morgase was such an excellent potions maker. "Hopefully, that journalist shows up; it'd be nice to get King back for those four other incidents I had with him."
 
"Great. I will steal some clothes then to use. You may want to make sure we have extra so we can maintain our disguise. Remember back in school when that guy was polyjuicing himself the whole year as our Defence teacher? May not be a bad idea to try to pull some thing like that ourselves tomorrow. Just to make sure we have enough time for you to get what you desire." Josh replied. He was happy to be getting some revenge on that dolt from the school. He had just gotten comfortable in this apartment and was not happy that one encounter would put his security in jeopardy.
 
Tristan smirked, and added, "Yeah, I remember that. Barty Crouch portraying as Mad-Eye? Didn't he keep the old bugger in a trunk?" He sat back, fighting the impulse to prop his feet up on the table. "That batty old auror was a damned martyr back at the offices; never really understood why. He died trying to protect that Potter boy, but I never researched much on that situation. I always thought that kid was a git; fancied himself as Dumbledore's favorite boy." He chuckled, continuing, "Barty, or Barty as Mad-Eye, I should say, wasn't half bad as a Defence Teacher, though."
 
"Yeah. That Potter kid was always a git. I couldn't stand him. Thought it was funny though when he started hanging out with that Loony chick. Always thought they made the perfect couple. Loony and Loonier." Josh replied with a chuckle. He stood and walked over to the window. Noting that dark was falling, he opened the blinds again slightly. "Looks rather quiet out there. Good."
 
((We weren't there the year Snape was in charge.... we graduated a year or two before him...))

"Yeah, the Lovegoods were an interesting sort, although Luna was alright to talk to if you were in need of a crazy conversation," Tristan murmured, "Printing that rubbish paper. What was it the paper was mostly about, Crumple Horned Snorcack's or something? I always wondered if Luna's dear old dad pulled that stuff out of his rear end or if he just listened to children's tales." He shook his head, grinning. "Potter and Lovegood would have made a good couple; I always thought Potter was a drama queen. My scar! My scar!" He had loved mocking kids that were in other houses.
 
(((Oops. Edited.)))


"Yeah. He was fun to mock. And that dolt of a redhead he hung out with," Josh added as an afterthought. He was still watching the activity in the street below, or rather, lack of. "Okay, now it is just a bit too quiet out there. Maybe I am just on edge, but it just does not seem right." He turned to look at Tristan. "We definitely should not walk out of the apartment at all as ourselves. I may be paranoid, but I am thinking that would probably be safest."
 
Tristan looked to Josh, his ears perking up. "Weasley, was it?" he muttered, chuckling. "I remember him puking slugs. That was hilarious."

He frowned. "Do you have any other way of exit? Could we just Apparate out of here? Are you going to leave your things behind?"
 
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