An Unexpected Guest

[Carolyn Porter]

RESERVED
THOMAS DAVIES

A door opened. A bell rang. A silence fell.

Standing in the doorway just inside the Leaky Cauldron was the Mistress of Magic, Carolyn Porter. A hazel gaze pierced anyone who was still looking at her since her entrance; those who had been looking quickly looked away and went back to doing what they had previously been doing. But the noise level remained moderately low. The usual 1:17 appearance of Carolyn Porter on a Thursday afternoon was common. And everyone knew that if she was in there, they needed to adjust themselves to fit her personal preferences. Carolyn Porter did not take any tomfoolery and would not allow high levels of noise while she ate.

Like clockwork, the shopkeeper on duty that afternoon came and took her traveling cloak, which was wet from the outside ran. Carolyn brushed some of her hair back from her face and fixed it since the wind had blown and messed it up. Once she felt that her hair was in order, she pulled a soft cloth from her pocket and removed her glasses, cleaning them quickly. She replaced the glasses upon her face and neatly tucked the cloth into her pocket. The shopkeeper quickly hung her cloak, nodded his head, and hurried to get her usual order: a scorching hot coffee, a glass of water, an yellow apple, and a lightly sugared croissant. This was her usual lunchtime break order. And those who worked at the Leaky Cauldron knew this well. And if anything went wrong… well, then it was the chopping board for them.

Glancing once more around the pub, Carolyn stepped in a bit further and felt the warmth of the inside air hit against her face. She blinked very little and did not speak a word to anyone. She turned to move in the direction of her usual table, one that she specified be reserved for her between the hours of one a two. But sitting there at the table was a young man with jet black hair. She glanced around momentarily in search of someone who worked there. And, sure enough, one of the employees hurried over to her and started uttering sorry apologies in her ear, saying that he could have him move to another table. She lifted her hand and waved it. He silenced himself immediately.

"I can handle this." And with her simple four words, she walked over to the table that she considered her own for one hour of the day, five days of the week. Her tall heeled shoes clicked heavily against the floor, and stopped only when she had reached the table. Standing there before the table was Carolyn, the woman that many hated. But also the woman that many envied as well. She cleared her throat, making her presence known, and then looked at the young man with a majestic sort of gaze, once that showed she had power in the world.

"Is there a reason as to why you are sitting at my table?" Her voice was cool and airy, demanding and important-sounding. Despite the fact that there was much more talking going on in the background, her voice seemed to be the only one speaking, possibly because she was the only one who mattered in the entire pub, with the exception of the shopkeepers, perhaps. Her voice filled the air again after only a few seconds of silence. "Everyone knows that I reserve this table specifically for myself between the hours of one and two."

[/font][/blockquote]

[Thomas Davies]

The only real reason he came to Diagon Alley was to pick up a few things at Quality Quidditch Supplies. He wasn't planning on staying there for that long, he found that whenever he was in Diagon Alley for too long he ended up spending more than he planned on. There was always something fascinating in this place he couldn't help but buy something that caught his eye whenever he just came here and browsed the small stores.

But before going to Quality Quidditch Supplies, he figured he should get some food first. He had ordered a butterbeer and just a small ploughman's lunch and that was it for now, he was in a good mood so he figured maybe after he finished this off he'd get something a bit stronger than this. He just needed a few more things before returning home and that was about it, so really he could just sit back and enjoy his drink and food before hanging around the quidditch store for a bit. He loved going in there, he would gladly live in there if he could. That place was like a heaven on earth for him.

Since he wasn't really going anywhere important, he had on just muggle clothing today. Just plain slim fitting jeans that had once been too long for him but now the bottoms were a bit frayed and tattered. The faded black t-shirt he was wearing was covered by his thick black jacket that he had on top, it was rather chilly today though he had managed with just the jacket and nothing else. Nothing too amazing, and yet he still looked decent according to himself. Most guys seemed to think that rolling out of bed and putting on whatever was on the floor was alright, oh no it was just horrible. His hair was messy like usual, but he was just going to pretend like it was supposed to be like that for now. After all if he started messing with it now than people would know that he had made a mistake. So he just tried to smile as best as he could at a few people who obviously didn't find his style very appealing.

He hadn't even noticed the woman until she was right in front of him. Looking up at her, he gave her a bit of a confused look but he stayed quiet for a moment. "Excuse me?" he asked wondering what the bloody hell this woman was getting at. What did she mean her table? He had just come in here and they had told him to sit anywhere and there he sat. Taking a sip of his butterbeer and looking up at her as he did his best to not smirk or show any emotion that showed how much he thought this was a joke. "I don't see your name on it. And nobody told me that this table was reserved." He wasn't quite sure what this woman was getting at but she looked rather familiar to him. But never did he really read the Daily Prophet to really know about what was going on in the world.

He was confused by this woman though he tried not to show it. He didn't want to move after this woman had just gone up to him and demanded a reason why he was here. It was rather silly, who really cared about a table? So unless she absolutely wanted this spot, than he wasn't about to move at all.

[Carolyn Porter]

Oh, how Carolyn Porter hated people like this! First is that that vampire girl in Madam Puddifoot's, now it was this man with jet-black hair. She had never felt so inferior in her entire life. They had show such a great amount of rude behavior and a disrespectful manner that appalled her. She was still trying to stifle her amazement, though, at the audacity they had to actually speak out against her. It made her laugh on the inside of her head, sarcastically of course, and it made her shake her head in slight disappointment.

Everyone talked about how the young adults of this new generation were supposed to be the best. They were supposed to be the ones who would make things great someday. They would bring everyone out of possible depressions and get rid of the pureblood mania. But Carolyn could not see any of that happening. If the new generation didn't even have respect or manners learned in the home, how were they supposed change things? How were they supposed to be "great" and make a different? The only thing Carolyn could do was laugh at the thought of these people and their assumptions of the new generation. She didn't laugh aloud, though. Now was now the time for that.

As the young man spoke, Carolyn's postured stiffened a bit. She straightened her back and neck and allowed herself to stand there in a very familiar posture, one that she used almost all the time. Her arms were crossed stiffly over her body, her legs were situated close to each other, he heeled shoes almost touching. Her back was perfectly straight, and her head was turned slightly to the side, but her eyes were still looking at the young man. Her posture appeared to have been molded like a mannequin, just quite a bit more hostile.

When the man finished speaking, Carolyn loosened her arms from across her chest and put them on her hips, shaking her head in disagreement with what he had to say. And, inevitably, she opened her own mouth and spoke what she had to say.

"My name should not have to be on the table because everyone knows that this is where I sit when I come in here between the hours of one and two." Carolyn's voice was a bit louder than it had been before. A few people sitting near the table turned their heads and gazed at her. She looked at them, glared a bit, and then turned her attention to this young man. Her hazel eyes looked at him intensely. She sarcastically looked at her watch. "And it is 1:21 now. Here you are, wasting my time when I could be sitting down enjoying my lunch." She sighed heavily, like she was really in that much of a hurry. If she wanted to, she could take three hours for lunch and no one would say anything. But Carolyn was professional about things like that. She wanted to take minimal time to eat and get back at a decent enough time to get more work done.

At the mention of having been told to sit anywhere, Carolyn rolled her eyes in agitation. Did she really need to remind the shopkeepers that her table must remain clean and clear at all times during the hour she requests unless otherwise instructed? How hard was it for people to follow instructions? With a sigh, the older woman responded to what the younger man had said. "Well, this means that somebody is not doing his job." Her voice carried a singsong sort of tune about it. Despite the singsong voice she had used, she was still quite agitated and angered that this man was putting up such a fuss instead of just listening. Was she the Mistress of Magic or not? "Everyone in here knows very well that I come in here every day of the week, with the exception of Saturday and Sunday, at the same time. It amazes me, the incompetence of some people." The incompetence to which she was referring was that of the shopkeepers. They had failed to make sure her table was clear when she arrived.

[Thomas Davies]

Most of the time he tried to show respect to his elders, that's the way he had been taught by his mother. But sometimes he felt as if they needed to earn the respect instead of just having to handed to them. Of course whenever he was at Hogwarts he did respect the older teachers even if he didn't exactly agree with them all the time. Though being on the teacher's good side was always good, he was new at the school as a teacher so he had yet to master his job. Therefore any questions or anything like that he would ask to some teacher, and he didn't want to have to ask some teacher who hated him. So he just tried to be as nice and pleasant as possible towards them.

He didn't see why he had to be pleasant to a woman who was just nagging him to get some table. Taking a sip of his butterbeer, he looked up at her wondering what he could do to get this woman away from him. Though she was going a good job at annoying him, he was not about to start being too rude and say exactly what was on his mind. Even if the older generation seemed to have high expectations for them and all that, he didn't see why he should be one of the role models or whatever. But he was a teacher, so he supposed he should, though even when he was teaching he was hard the role model type.

He could see a few people looking towards them, really why was this such a big deal? This woman seemed to act as if she owned the place. Well he wasn't about to put up with that at all. "Maybe you should have come a bit earlier then? I only came here about five minutes ago. And you know what they say, the early bird get the worm." He said with a smirk as he looked up at her. How he hated that phrase but it certainly worked for him right now. Though if he had come later he wouldn't have to deal with this woman. He glared back up at her and did his best to just stand his ground and not give in. Though he could tell her posture had changed, she looked much more hostile than before, but he supposed if he stood up he could easily do the same. However he was much more comfortable sitting here just enjoying his butterbeer. He'd just let her try and be as menacing as she could and just observe. However he wasn't sure how long he'd last before getting very rude to this woman.

He glanced around to see where the employees were, they must be hiding from the wrath of this woman. Why was she so important? Were all the regulars so uptight about where they sat? As much as he really didn't want to be nice to this woman, he figured the only way to get her to shut up was to just let her win. Well...he was going to compromise anyways. With a deep sigh, he asked,"Would you like to join me?" He honestly didn't want to deal with this woman but if it would stop this fighting and he could just get his food and eat than whatever he'd be fine with her. Just as long as she'd stop talking about this bloody table. He didn't see what was so good about it anyways, what made it any different than the others?

Taking another sip of his butterbeer, he continued to look up at her as he did his best to just take all the negative thoughts out of his mind and just do his best to just ignore her words and just push past all of that. However it was easier said than done.

[Carolyn Porter]

Carolyn wasn't the least bit impressed with the young man's behavior. Her ex-husbands had all been quite rude and disrespectful, at least after the divorces. Daniel was the only one that was rude in their marriage, but they were both the same way towards each other. But this young man--he was just awful, a disgrace to other men. His behavior and attitude was more than enough to scare away a woman who may have thought he was good looking.

When asked to sit, Carolyn could tell that it was only an attempt to be civil and polite. She didn't feel any better about his attitude, but she didn't say anything. She merely sighed very faintly to herself. Her eyes glared at him from behind her glasses.

"No, I would not like to join you," she told him with an utterly disgusted tone of voice. Her head moved in a strange sort of motion as she spoke, sending the front of her hair down into her face, shielding part of her eyes. She looked upwards towards the ceiling, an unnoticeable eye roll, and then brushed her hair form her face. When her eyes fell upon the man once again, she sighed a bit heavily. Her breath could not be heard, but her chest rose and fell at such levels that it was apparent she had yawned. "But I am not going to find another table because you are being stubborn about the entire situation."

With the last of her words, Carolyn pulled one of the chairs from under the table and lowered herself into it. Her movements, though harsh and rough, were elegant and seemingly gentle. She situated herself comfortably in the seat and crossed one leg over the other, fixing her skirt so that it covered the whole of her thighs up to her knee. She cleared her throat and gazed around in search of the shopkeeper who had gone to get her food and drink.

When she saw him walking towards her table, she raised a brow at him but said nothing as he placed what she had ordered on the table. Carolyn reached out and placed her index and middle fingers against the outside of the ceramic cup and let them linger. "This coffee isn't hot enough," she said to him, offering the cup back to him. He bowed his head in apology and then nodded.

"Anything else, Carolyn?"

[/I] he asked her. He looked at the young man sitting across the table from her. "Is this gentleman bothering you? I can have him removed if you want."

"No. Leave him." She lifted her glass of water to her lips and sipped lightly. Room temperature, just how she liked it. She glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw the shopkeeper still standing there. She closed her eyes for a moment as she replaced the glass atop the table. Why did they wait for her to say something before they went to do what she asked? "That's all." The shopkeeper hurried to warm her coffee, bringing it back only a few seconds later. Carolyn didn't bother saying thank you.

Silently, the woman lifted her cup of coffee to her lips and sips carefully from it. She swallowed and carefully tore a small piece of her croissant, putting it into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed, sipping her water afterwards to wash down the slight bit of sugar.

"So, what lowly occupation do you possess? I have not seen you in the Ministry, so I can only assume you that you work elsewhere. Where is it? Another shop here in Diagon Alley? Hogsmeade, perhaps?" The woman looked at the man over her glasses and blinked a few times, waiting for him to answer her question.[/size][/font][/blockquote]

[Thomas Davies]

He did his best to ignore her tone of voice, really he was getting more and more tempted to just get up and leave. More and more this woman was getting on his nerves, he just sort of wished he could say something rude. But at the same time he felt a little bit intimidated by her and the thought of saying something rude just sounded like a terrible idea.

Doing his best to think happy thoughts, yes that would get him through this. Maybe he should have asked them to just give him his food to go so he didn't have to listen to this woman for that much longer. Oh he was being stubborn? Well he was being stubborn but really if it had not been for her rude demanding of why he was in her spot, than he might have been more polite and moved.

Taking another sip of his butterbeer as he watched her sit down, he always used drinking as an excuse not to talk. It was a good one and if he had to deal with this woman for that much longer he'd definitely be needing something stronger to drink than butterbeer.

Watching and trying not to be so amazed by the service she was getting. Never had he seen the employees here work so fast. Here he was and he hadn't even gotten his own food yet and she had gotten everything already. And the waiter..he couldn't believe. Who was this woman? Thom did his best to just keep his mouth shut and and observe more than anything else. Though as the waiter said that he could be removed, he gave him a bit of a suspicious look, removed? For what? She was the one that was bothering him!

Lowly occupation?! What the bloody hell was this old bat and what made her so high and mighty compared to everyone else. He did his best to just let it go though as he said as politely as he could without any trace of resentment in his voice,"I'm the new flying instructor at Hogwarts." When she had spoke she mentioned something about not seeing him at the Ministry. Well than was she one of those stuffy Ministry workers? He tried to figure out just by her looks which department she might work for. "And who are you?" he asked rather flatly, if it wasn't for the fact that this woman was acting as if she owned the place, he probably wouldn't have cared.

[Carolyn Porter]

Carolyn glanced out the window and then looked back at her croissant, apple, water, and coffee. She took a small piece of the croissant and placed it inside her mouth. She chewed slowly, her jaw moving as if she were speaking. She swallowed, sipped her water, and then spoke as she heard him tell her of his occupation. Just as I thought, a lowly occupation, she thought to herself with a mental shake of the head.

"Flying instructor," she repeated in a simple breath. She had inhaled before speaking, which was supposed to be a sigh, but she had spoken, thus allowing her words to be a bit airy. "Hm." She wiped her eyes under her glasses and blinked a few times, looking at him. "What am I supposed to do with that? Do you have a name? I'm sure you do. Or do you expect me to call you Mr. Flying Instructor?" Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, especially during the last sentence of her series of sentences.

"Well, it is at least nice to know that you are doing something worthwhile. Educating children who are in desperate need of it. But flying? Many may enjoy it, but with apparition and the Floo Network, when will flying really be of use in most of the students' lives? Some may grow and become famous Quidditch players, sure. But who else will use it aside from those few?" She had barely paused in the midst of her speaking. The pauses she had made were very short. She just continued talking and let her voice carry on until it finished what she had to say and what was in her mind.

"And who are you?"

Carolyn had been in the midst of sipping her coffee when the question was posed. She felt a sudden jump in her throat, which almost caused her to spit her coffee everywhere. But she hadn't. She managed to keep it in her mouth and let it travel down her esophagus into her stomach. She wiped her lips off with a napkin that was upon the table and looked at him.

"Who--who am I?" She repeated, humored. "I will pretend that you did not just ask me who I am," she told him in her same cold, airy, and flat tone of voice. Carolyn sat up a bit more straight in her seat. Her back looked like it would snap in half if she continued to arch it in such a way. She leaned forwards off her seat and rested her arms on the edge of the table. She sighed.

Her eyes, which had previously been staring out the window, fell upon the man. She held such a heavy gaze that anyone would feel the need to break contact, especially if she didn't blink for a long period of time. And she wasn't blinking. Or at least she hadn't blinked until she opened her mouth to speak.

"I cannot believe that you haven't the vaguest idea as to who I am. I have been in the Ministry for years now," she said, not bothering to pause between sentences. She took a breath. "And in my position for a fairly decent interval of time. My name is Carolyn Porter, and I am the Mistress of Magic." She looked at him with a slight look in her eyes, disappointed and a bit angered at the fact that he did not know who she was. Surely he read the Daily Prophet/ Her picture was in there often, as was her name.

When she had first been appointed, the paper had done an interview with her, in which she had answered some questions. They had also done follow-up stories about her, her children, and all three of her ex-husbands. She hadn't changed much in the past six years; her hair was still in the same style and coloring. Her glasses were the same. Her attire hadn't changed. How could he not know who she was? She was actually in the paper earlier that morning!

[Thomas Davies]

Finishing off his butterbeer, he set it down on the table and waited for the waiter to come back over as he asked him for a refill. Thom shook his head and ordered a beer instead. When asked what kind, he shook his head saying quickly,"Anything I don't care. What is strong." Probably not a good way to show how she wasn't getting to him. He didn't care though, if he was going to get through this than he needed something strong than butterbeer.

Doing his best to just ignore her her sarcasm..how annoying. Really he couldn't stand this, but he was just thinking about getting his food and just finishing it off and leaving as fast as he could. "Thomas Davies." He said simply, how he hated this woman more and more by the second.

"Some people don't enjoy the Floo Network, and not everyone can Apparate or want to either." There were loads of reasons why flying was a good thing to learn at an early age. Though he did want to become a famous Quidditch player, dear god this woman was beginning to sound more and more like his mother. How annoying, he really really couldn't stand this woman the more he sat here with her.

He looked over and tried to figure out who this woman was. She seemed to act important but he didn't know exactly where he might have seen her. But more and more he sat here he really was starting not to care. "Why? Should I know who you are?" He asked, really starting to wonder who he was dealing with. She seemed to act as if he should know who she was. But he didn't know what to think of her. As much as he tried to remember where he might of seen her, the more he doubted himself. No, it wasn't the Daily Prophet...he didn't read it that often. Occasionally he glanced at it but that was only when he was terribly bored.

She was the Mistress of Magic? His first instinct was to apologize for the way he had acted towards her. But he stopped himself before he could say anything. He didn't need to apologize for anything, she was the one who had started all this. And just because she was important didn't mean that she could be allowed to treat people rudely.

"I thought you looked familiar," he smiled, though he was more amused by her than anything else. The way she seemed to just be so astonished that he had no idea who she was. Oops? Oh well, maybe he should pick up the Daily Prophet more often. "So that's why everyone seems to be thinking you're something special." He smirked, well he didn't think she was at all.

[Carolyn Porter]

A faint scoff escaped the older woman's lips when the young man requested a strong alcoholic drink. She tilted her head to the side slightly and shook it some. Her husbands had told her so many times that she drove people to drink. And she was really starting to believe them. Taking her glass of water in one hand, she lifted it from the table and held it. She did not sip from it immediately. Looking at her watch, she let a faint laugh escape her lips. She then looked at him, amusement in her eyes.

"It's a bit early in the day to be drinking, don't you think?" Carolyn shrugged her shoulders a bit and leaned back against the seat. She grinned a bit as she brought the glass closer to her body. "I feel obliged. Cheers." She raised her glass up and pretended to cheer his glass. She then sipped lightly from it, looking at the man over her glasses as she drank. She swallowed and placed the glass back on the table. "Maybe my ex-husbands were right." She grinned a bit slyly and bit down on her lower lip.

He gave his name. Carolyn nodded but gave no response. She had never heard of him until now, and there was no point in pretending like she had. Blinking a few times, he turned her head and gazed out the window into the street.

People were walking by in the usual lunchtime manner. They were trying their hardest to get from one place to another, many of them trying to find a place to escape the cold. Sighing to herself, Carolyn couldn't help but wish she had such freedom to walk around and do what she pleased. Being the Mistress of Magic had its pros and cons, one of the cons being that she was always busy and tended to have to put things off that she wanted or needed to do for herself or her daughters. And maybe she was self-centered in the fact that she was always working. But her daughters got the good end of it when it all came down to it. They got to spend a lot of her money on whatever it was their hearts desired.

He talked about her identity. He asked if he should know who she was. She wanted to say something so bad, but she had refrained from saying anything at all, simply because he said that he could recall her from somewhere. She nodded her head, pleased that he had realized, but closed her eyes when he said what he had to say next. She really was not appreciating his words, probably because they were so similar to her own.

"Oh, they don't think I'm special." She paused. She pursed her lips and blinked a few times, swallowing her saliva a bit heavily. "They know I am." It was obvious that Carolyn thought highly of herself, and she made it obvious that other people should think highly of her. But she knew she wouldn't receive that from everyone. If she received it from everyone, she'd be surprised.

[Thomas Davies]

Was that a scoff he heard from this wretched woman? Another thing she was disapproving of? He was starting to get used to it as he sat there with her. Had they met on better terms he would have been a lot more pleasant and perhaps put some effort in trying to make a good impression. However he really couldn't care less what she thought of him right now.

"Well somewhere in the world it's Happy Hour." he said sarcastically, dear god, did this woman ever have something negative to say?! As the waiter came back with his drink, he smiled thankfully at the waiter and then looked back at this horrible woman. As he heard her mention her ex-husbands..he had to wonder how many of them she had. Those poor men, had they just divorced her or had they taken the other way out of getting away from her? That was terrible to think but he couldn't help it as he sat there with her.

Even when it was quiet he still hated being with her. Taking a sip of his beer, he then set it down on the table. This was quite refreshing, but he would only have to have one since he still needed to get through Diagon Alley in order to do some shopping. And there was no way he could do that while having far too many beers. Even if this woman was irritating his soul right now, he still did his best to just keep it all inside and just think of happy thoughts.

Where was his food? It seemed that most of the employees were more intent on making sure that everything was suitable for her than about anything else. Honestly, this was quite pathetic. Well if it meant he had less time here he'd just forget the sandwich and pay for the drinks and leave. It just meant less time dealing with this woman. It was probably better that way, then he wouldn't feel tempted to say something or do something he knew he'd regret. The sooner he got out of here the better it was for the both of them.

Looking at this woman and then looking around at the employees they seemed to be more scared of her than anything else. Who in their right mind would think that she was special? He didn't see it at all, he didn't see it at all but whatever. "They really think that?! Are you serious?" he asked somewhat amazed by this. How stupid must they be.

[Carolyn Porter]

"Happy hour,"

[/b] she repeated with a slight start to a laugh. "That's what Marshall used to say whenever he'd have a drink in the middle of the day. He'd say that somewhere in the world, some guy was sitting around drinking a few drinks, having a bit of fun. And in that same place, some woman was having fun, too." She paused momentarily and looked down into her coffee cup. She blinked a few times and sighed to herself.

Marshall had always been the one she thought she could count on. She had taken it slow with him, made him pine for her. They had been engaged for three years before marrying. And when they married, it had lasted for quite a few years. She had his children. And then things fell apart when she started working more and more time. She blinked a few times and swallowed. Now that she was sitting here with another man, one that she knew she was annoying, she realized that maybe she was the reason for her husbands' drinking.

"I used to ask him if we could be the same, if we could have the same fun. But he always told me no." Her voice was quiet, like she didn't want anyone to hear, not even the man she was telling. Carolyn pushed her glasses onto her face and looked up at the young man across the table. She knew that she probably sounded pathetic, talking about one of her ex-husbands in such a way. She glanced around. People were talking amongst themselves. The shopkeepers were taking orders and filling them. She looked at Thomas Davies. Her face softened slightly, but only just. Was she really that bad? Did she really drive people to insanity? Make them drink? She didn't want to think about it.

He seemed surprised when she said that people knew she was special, that he should be treated like royalty. A lot of people treated her like royalty, or at least tried to. She knew that she probably didn't deserve what was given to her, nor did she deserve the way she was treated by a lot of people. But she took it because she could, because she knew that she would at least be respected by those who served her. She couldn't expect to be respect from anyone else.

"The people here seem to think something of me," she told him with a nod of her head in the direction of the shopkeepers walking from one place to another, filling orders. "You may not think much of me, but they do." For the first time since they became acquainted, Carolyn allowed a faint smile to pass across her face, her lips curving upwards. "But at least people think something of me. I walk in, and I get serviced immediately. You, you've been here for, what, ten minutes now? And you haven't been serviced yet." She sucked her teeth some and chuckled a bit as she was about to take a sip of her water. "And you have the nerve to tell me I'm not special." She shook her head and sipped her water. He certainly did have some audacity.[/size][/font][/blockquote]

[Thomas Davies]

As she began to speak about whom he assumed was her ex-husband, he was a bit curious about this woman. The way she spoke made him somewhat what to listen to her, but then again at the same time he shouldn't be intrigued by this woman at all. Though he couldn't help but smile slightly at that saying, yes it was quite true. How he loved those drinking sayings, they were always good for whenever somebody tried to question the time for a drink.

He had yet to have any true love or anything like that, sure there had been loads of girls in his life but never one he could say was ever even close to being love. At least he didn't think so, shouldn't he know when he was in love or not? Surely if he had broken up with a girl he would have at least had some sort of regret or something like a sense of loss? But no, there was nothing, he couldn't even imagine ever talking about his exes in a sort of reminiscent way or anything like that.

As she spoke quieter, he had to listen closely to hear what she was saying. Hmm well he wondered why he said no. Though he didn't say anything, he knew better than to comment about that sort of stuff. Even if this woman was terribly annoying he would not stoop so low as to make snide comments about that sort of stuff.

How anyone seemed to think that this woman was anything more than terrible was beyond him. Sure she was the Mistress of Magic but that didn't make her better than anybody else. Just the thought of all these people doing anything they could to serve her made him really question their state of mind. Never in his life would he ever do this sort of that for anybody especially if they were so rude about it. She may have been high up in the wizarding world but there was no way in hell he would be giving her loads and loads of respect.

"Honestly I think they're more scared of you than anything else." He glanced at one of the waiters and then back at her. Yes, to him she was absolutely nothing but some woman who seriously needed to get over herself. Thom couldn't help but laugh as she said he had some nerve to tell her that she wasn't special. Oh he could do much worse than that, he was sure that anybody listening in on their conversation might think of him as a complete idiot to be talking to some Mistress of Magic like this, but he could care less. "Well Ms. Porter...was it? I don't know how on earth anybody finds you to be anything of importance." Now he was definitely pushing his luck, but he wasn't about to back down from this woman.

[Carolyn Porter]

For everything Carolyn Porter had to say, it seemed that Thomas Davies had a comeback or something to say in return. Everything he said was nothing less than an insult, something used to degrade her. As much as she tried not to let it bother her, it did not work. Things he was saying to her and about her were really making her feel awful on the inside, not to mention inferior. But she did not let the evidence of the effects of his words appear on her face. She just sat there with a more hostile expression.

The first thing he said really did not bother her. She was not bothered by the fact that people only respected her because she put the fear of Merlin into them. She knew that people were scared of her. That was one of the reasons she did the things she did. But it seemed like people were less scared of her than she thought. And this man made things apparent by the way he was acting and speaking to her. She swallowed some and suddenly felt like she wasn't scary enough, like she wasn't doing her job correctly. She blinked a few times and moved her cup slightly across the table, watching the liquid within it move around.

"Fear is a very important tool to have when you are in a position like mine. It helps make sure people agree with the things you say, helps enforce laws." She fell silent. Aside from that, though, why did she want her own people to be scared of her? Maybe it made her feel powerful. But then that would make her power-hungry, demanding, overpowering. She swallowed. That made her feel a bit bad. Maybe her children were right. Maybe her husbands were right. Maybe she really did need to lay off the work some, lay off the demanding behavior, stop being such a bitch. She sighed a bit.

When Thomas spoke and said that he could not find a reason as to why so many people thought of her as important, her face fell some. She did not realize it for a moment. But when she did, it was probably too late. She quickly tried to fix it, though, and make it seem like she was not affected. But her face was too heavily changed to allow it to be ignored. She just hoped he didn't realize it. Then he would know what to use against her, a tool he could use.

"So now you decide to show me a fingernail length of respect?" she asked him, her voice agitated by the fact that he had called her Carolyn. She sighed some. "Carolyn. You can call me Carolyn." Even though she was the Mistress of Magic, she preferred being called by her first name by those who were adults, even if they were younger than her. She swallowed some and brushed the front part of her hair out of her eyes.

"To be honest, it doesn't really matter to me whether or not you think I am a person of great importance. Who are you to tell me whether or not I am important? Who are you to tell me anything, really? As long as I know who I am and what I am, I don't think anything anyone else says should matter." Her posture straightened again, and her back arched to the point that it appeared like it would break if she bent it anymore. She licked her lips some, as they had gone dry, and blinked a bit.

She spoke again, this time her voice more silent than before. "I don't even know why I try to hold a conversation with anyone anymore. Everything I say either goes ignored, or someone thinks up some smart remark, or no one understands." She threw her hands up in the air some. She felt like giving up on trying to talk to people. She felt like giving up on a lot of things. But her life was just far too fun for her to give up on now. Conversations like this were what made her life interesting. So she'd just continue doing it, just to keep her life a little bit interesting.

[Thomas Davies]

He was hardly scared of this woman, what was she going to do to him anyways? He wasn't doing anything wrong except for being truthful. Though she was a bit intimidating just because he didn't know what the bloody hell would come out of her mouth next. Well whatever it would be, he would make sure to have something to say back. If he didn't have anything to say, wouldn't that be a sign of vulnerability?

"Isn't a leader supposed to be loved by everyone? Wouldn't that be the best way to have people follow you instead of scaring the hell out of them." The poor employees of this place, having to deal with her for so long, really he hoped they got a large tip from her. And if they didn't, well he hoped they did what supposedly pissed off waiters did and did something to the food.

As she said that he could call her Carolyn, well...he'd just keep on calling her Ms. Porter just to be as distant from her as possible. Besides he didn't want to do anything she asked him to do. He didn't want to have anything to do with this woman. Perhaps he was going a bit far and maybe first impressions weren't all they seemed but still he wasn't in the mood to start attempting to be nice with this woman.

"Well everyone else must matter, right? They are the ones who put you up on that pedestal and gave you all the power. If everyone just ignored you than you'd be just like everybody else." Hopefully he was making some sense, whenever he got angry he seemed to not think as much about what he was saying. It all just sort of came out and if it made sense than that was good and if it didn't...well...he wasn't sure what to do about that.

He didn't know why anyone ever tried to have a conversation with her. After the way she was talking to him, he wondered just how many other people had to endure this torture on a daily basis. Those poor poor souls, he wondered what she said to them. They must not have too much courage to speak out against her, he felt bad for them but thank god he didn't work for her or anything so he could say whatever the hell he wanted to her and not have to worry. Taking another sip of his beer and then setting it down, he sighed and then said,"Perhaps more people would have a decent conversation with you if you weren't so terribly demanding." It was more of a comment than trying to defy her or anything, he was just sort of saying whatever was on his mind.

[Carolyn Porter]

He spoke of leaders and how they were loved. He spoke of the people who put her up on the pedestal. She sighed heavily at his words and shook her head. He had a point in his words, but she could also find a point in them, changing it to make it fit her even better.

"Maybe," she told him with a shrug of her shoulders. "Who said I'm not loved by everyone? Hatred is just a negative form of love. And if everyone hates me, then I am loved." She grinned, feeling triumphant. In her mind, she felt that she had a point. She could always find ways to turn things that other people said around and make them work for her.

"I don't care what people think about me. The only thing that matters is what people think about my ideas and the things I do for the magical community. I come across as rude, disrespectful, a bitch. People think I don't care. They think I only care about myself. While this may be true in many cases, I do what is in the best interest for the people, not myself." She swirled the clear liquid around in her cup and watched it move. She breathed a bit and looked at him over her glasses, tilting her head to the side and shrugging one shoulder. "No one realizes that, though. But that's okay. They don't have to know all my secrets." She winked and then placed her glass atop the table. She never did drink all of her water when she ordered it, but she did always finish her coffee.

"Demanding? How hard is it to hold a decent conversation? I shouldn't even have to ask. But here I am asking people for intelligent conversation. But, funnily enough, it all comes down to this: arguments." She sighed and shook her head. This was true. All of her conversations tended to go up in smoke. She never was able to have a decent conversation. It had been the same with all of her marriages. Conversations were based upon petty arguments, ones that could have been avoided, prevented.

"You know, I need to get back to the Ministry." She took her cup of coffee and finished it off. She then took the last bite of her croissant, swallowed a small sip of water, leaving the glass still half full. She grabbed the yellow apple in her hand and stood to her feet, pushing the chair back under the table. She let her gaze linger upon the young man for a few moments. "Have a nice afternoon."

Then she turned and found the man that had taken her cloak and served her during her entire amount of time there. He hurried to get it. When he brought it back, she handed him what appeared to be a fairly large amount of money. "Keep the extra." The extra would serve as his tip. Her meal and drinks could only have been a few galleons at most, but she handed him far more than was needed. She always gave a fairly high tip to the person that waited on her. It was only courteous for her to give a large amount of money, especially when she demanded so much of the people there.

He took the money from her and helped her into her cloak. She nodded her head n thanks and then glanced back at the table where the man was still sitting. She then turned her head to look back at the shopkeeper. "And serve him. He's been waiting for a while now." And with those final words, she turned and left the Leaky Cauldron.