In With the New - Gid & Vin

Saturday, 7th of January, 1922
Hogsmeade Streets
10:30 PM

If there was one thing Oliver was good for, it was finding a place to get smashed. Arthur needn't feel guilty for that assessment however. Oliver himself had said so on many occasions. It was because of this that he was one of the first old "friends" Arthur contacted once he was back in the area. In other circumstances lying low would've been the preference, but with Arthur soon to be turning over a new leaf in his life, he needed on last hurrah. And so, here he was, trudging through the light rain in Hogsmeade with Oliver at his side. Arthur rubbed his hands together absentmindedly, occasionally flicking the rim of his hat as water gathered and dripped to his nose.

"Y'know, ya came back at a good time Arthur. Plenty o' people around the pubs and taverns nowadays. Most even wouldn't sniff at an ol' Langley coming back to town." Oliver chuckled, causing him to cough and sniff afterwards.

Arthur's brow twitched. "Artie. Call me Artie. Or Art. Whatever works, except Arthur. And definitely not Langley." He wouldn't say it aloud, but it felt... strange to hear Oliver call him Arthur. Maybe at one time Oliver would've been considered a close friend, but now...

"Alright Artie, whatever you want. Just don't get pissy if I forget while down a couple pints." Oliver let out another chuckle after throwing Arthur a half-cocked grin.Arthur didn't respond, training his eyes back on the cobbled street to avoid any puddles. The silence between the two was filled with the pattering of rain on their hats and shoulders. For a while, he thought the silence would last until they made it to wherever Oliver was routing to. This of course was incorrect.

"Any interesting tales to tell of your time away? Gill told me he remembered you were heading off to start makin' spells or something or other. You ever get around to that?"

The question was innocent enough, but it caused a flurry of less than pleasant memories to resurface in Arthur's head. Memories of an ambitious fool that didn't see failure as an option. Memories of sleeping in a freezing hostel, clutching his last few possessions close to make them impossible to steal. Oliver couldn't know what he went through. Either that, or he was being very polite, which he wasn't known to be. Arthur had already heard word from a few past acquaintances that learned he was back. He much preferred Oliver's obliviousness to the ridicule disguised as concern he received from the rest.

"Are we any closer to this 'secret' spot you were jawing about?" Arthur asked, ignoring the question asked while silently praying that Oliver left it be. Thankfully, Oliver nodded.

"Right here actually. Can finally get out this pissin' rain."

He lead Arthur to the front of a clothing shop, Blackwood & Sons. Something about the name scratched the inside of his brain, but Arthur let it pass. He just cast a dubious glance towards Oliver, who was grinning stupidly all the while.

"Trust me Artie, ya gotta trust me. Oh, also..." Oliver leaned closer, the smell of drink already on his breath wafting past Arthur. "Keep this as a secret if you will. We'd both get our hides skinned if everybody started talkin' about this here." Arthur simply responded with a nod. Whatever Oliver was about to show him, he had no interest in talking about it. As long as it led to him getting his fix. At the nod, Oliver proceeded to lead him through to the shop, waving his wand as he did so. Occasional taps on the door preceded their entry, ending up with them standing in front of a nondescript closet in the dim interior of the closed store. A final few taps from Oliver's wand with one more stupid grin thrown Arthur's way, and the door was opened.

To Oliver's credit, Arthur was blown away. The juxtaposition of the cold and dark from outside set against the sudden warmth and light from the very much lively club downstairs caused his eyes to widen. As they made their way down the stairs, they were greeted by the welcoming interior of a club and bar, complete with booths, stools, a lounge, and plenty of clientele enjoying a variety of drinks and cigars. The place was not packed, but it seemed busy enough. Some larger groups were deciding to stand with their drinks to avoid the claustrophobic booths, their chatter blending in with the soft music playing in the background. It was then that Oliver brushed past Arthur, waving and exclaiming at a group sitting in a corner table.

Now's my chance.

He wove his way through a couple of small crowds, intentionally ducking his head as he did so to avoid Oliver's confused searching gaze. As lovely as they are sure to be, Arthur was in no interest to meet Oliver's group of friends. And as nice and beautiful the interior of the club was, there was one destination that was set for him. Approaching the bar, Arthur took off his hat and smoothed down his hair, looking across as he did so.

"Whatever's your most cost effective, if you please."

It was a Saturday night, which meant that Lavinia Blackwood was working behind the bar at Blackwood & Son’s. Some people, her girl friends in particular, thought she was crazy to enjoy her work, but she really liked it. She got to meet people and stay out of the house. Which, during the school year, wasn't that big of a deal. But now that Gideon had a fiancee and step-daughter-to-be, Vin didn’t particularly enjoy feeling like the third wheel.

They never made her feel that way, of course… except for that first time she had met Roisin and found the two in a rather compromising position on the couch in the townhome she shared with her brother.

Still, despite how uncomfortable that made her, she was thrilled that he was finally getting on with his life. Since becoming a widower, the light had left his eyes. But now that he was in love, it was back. He looked happy.

The clientele that came into the speakeasy were typically the same people over and over again; they had their regulars who came in every night, and every once in a while they’d get someone new. Like the man standing in front of her, his hat in his hand.

"Whatever's your most cost effective, if you please."

Lavinia smiled, nodded, and got to work making a drink for him. ”I hope you like gin and lime,” she commented as she poured some gin, simple syrup, and fresh lime juice into a shaker.

”First time here?” she asked as she shook up the ingredients in the shaker. Then she took the top off, and poured the liquid into a chilled glass. ”That’s a gimlet,” she said when she sat it down in front of him.

Gideon had the night off. Blessed be. Typically on a Saturday night he would be minding the castle, making sure the students respected the rules and went to bed on time.

News flash. They rarely respected the rules and never went to bed ontime. Tonight, however, he had business to attend to of the family variety. After meeting with his father and eldest brother Weston, to go over the books, he decided to go down for a drink.

They had a few short weeks before the end of the fiscal year, and so far they were looking at a stellar year. And that was just from the legal side of things.

Walking into the pub, built in secret below the clothing store that bore the family name, sat a speakeasy filled with paying patrons, music and cigar smoke. It smelled like home if he was being honest.

"Whatever's your most cost effective, if you please."

Vin, his baby sister was pouring drinks at the bar tonight. Seeing her made his smile stretch wider. ”I hope you like gin and lime.”

What the fuck? A Gimlet? Gideon shuddered at the thought, he hated Gin with a passion.

Gideon took off his jacket, folding it up and put it in a safe space behind the bar, then started rolling up his sleeves and removing his tie.

”First time here? That’s a gimlet,” she said, handing over the drink. “Hello love, doing alright?” He said, kissing his baby sister on the temple. By muscle memory, he went about the process of making his favorite, an old fashioned. Rye Whisky, sugar cube (which they smoked in house to add flavor), Angostura bitters and finished with a curled orange peel.

Looking at the newcomer sitting at the bar, Gideon waited to see what he thought of the Gimlet. What a man drinks says a lot about a person. “If you hate that as much as I do, I’ll make you something better on the house. Really Vin, a Gimlet.”

He said, his lips tipping up in a smirk, giving his sister a wink. She had no idea he was stopping by today, he didn’t either to be honest. Even though he was part owner in the business, he still loved getting his hands dirty when he could.