Boggart in the Basement [Nika]

[Maestro]

“Oi, Master-O, can you stop? Y’ve been banging on that thing for hours now.”

“I’m not banging, I’m playing, and it’s what your boss pays me for.” Ah, Simon the afternoon bartender. The human equivalent of a never-ending hangover; no wonder he was the afternoon bartender. If he came ‘round at night, the customers would all leave. His fingers continued lazily along the keys, composing as he went along.

“We don’t even pay you!”

“And stop calling me Master-O, it’s Maestro. If you keep mispronouncing it I’ll have to start calling you See-mon, and I just know how you’ll love that.” He cackled and ducked away from the bar rag that that hurtled towards his head as Simon disappeared into the back room. He called out louder, his taunting taking on a melody to match his playing, “How about a drink, See-mon? Is Madam Pixie still behind the bar?”

“No, you’ll have to grab another bottle from the basement if you want it.”

Maestro sighed theatrically, ending his noodling on the piano with a sudden staccato chord. “You ask too much of me, See-mon! Too much!” The musician spun up from his piano bench, crossing the barroom to the closet near the entrance. He whipped out his wand and lit it with a quick Lumos, kicking open the basement door. To his horror, the light at the tip of his wand was immediately greeted by the grinning visage of a bespectacled man in a scraggly goatee. His toothy maw opened to shriek at Maestro before he panicked and slammed the door in the man’s face.

“Gah!” Maestro scrambled backwards, his jump tossing his wand from his hand several steps away. In his panic he barreled into an entering patron. He quickly righted himself, grasping the person he’d run into a little too tightly in his fear. “Sorry, I’m just - what - who - SIMON!” He heard a cackle come from the back room behind the bar, and he scowled. “What the fuck, Simon?!”

“Oh, is the boggart still down there? Didn’t know, when I went down there earlier I thought it was just you.”

Maestro grumbled, dusting himself off and nodding apologetically in acknowledgement to their new guest. “Simon, we have a guest! And you owe her a free drink! Sorry, madam.” Maestro bowed to greet her, picking up his dropped wand in the process. “Excuse my miscreant coworker.”

[Janika Baumgartner]

Nika felt like dancing.

In the week since her life had ended and restarted with the bizarre twist of fate known as 'The Flux', she hadn't had much to feel like dancing over. Her wife had moved on, her estate had been shut, her house elves had died, the Ministry had seized her bank account (though thankfully the Goblins didn't much care for the Ministry, and had assisted her in regaining it), and as far as she knew, she was still considered dead since she hadn't come forward in an official capacity.

But here she was, a smile plastered on her face that for anyone else would have seemd contented, but for her was akin to outright laughing with glee. She was finally, finally going to get this blasted leg fixed. She thumped awkwardly along on the mostly useless lump of metal, smile firmly fixed as her eyes flitted from shop to shop. She was never really one for shopping, a fact that Helen lamented loudly and often, but her sudden good mood had her wanting to treat herself. So she turned and strode into the first decent looking shop she could find on the main drag and spent a solid hour, 45 minutes more than she'd ever spent in a shop, perusing their wares.

She resumed her jaunty stroll down Hogsmeade's main street dressed in her purchase, a stunningly soft and supple dragon-hide trench coat that was inlaid with numerous protective enchantments. It had cost her a pretty Galleon, but she had inherited a fortune and so far hadn't found anything to spend it on. Might as well buy herself something nice.

She was just preparing to apparate back to the manor when she heard the pleasing sound of someone improvising on a paino coming from inside a bar. "The Three Broomsticks" the sign above the door proudly proclaimed in paint that was just peeling enough to look rustic without being shabby. She hesitated, her hips twisted in preparation for her departure, then shrugged in a "what the hell?" sort of manner as she straightened her posture and made her way inside the bar-

-And directly into a person. She hissed in discomfort as she stumbled back onto her prosthetic, the magic devoid strap digging into her thigh at the added weight of the man righting himself. And then he was apologising, shouting angrily at someone in the back of the bar.

She smiled politely as he addressed her, the discomfort in her leg already fading. A boggart. That could prove interesting.

"Nein, no apologies necessary," she said, waving her hand dismissively, "But a drink sounds wunderbar." She raised her voice in the direction of the back room. "I will have your finest schnapps please, Herr Simon."

She turned back to her new acquaintance and held out a hand. "I am Nika. I believe I heard something about a boggart?"

[Maestro]

"Nein, no apologies necessary," she said, waving her hand dismissively, "But a drink sounds wunderbar." She raised her voice in the direction of the back room. "I will have your finest schnapps please, Herr Simon."

Maestro perked up at the sound of the woman's voice: German! Maestro had a soft spot for the German people. In Paris, he had known several spiky-yet-oddly-lovable germans who played in the night clubs; one band in particular played music something like muggle German techno music, but entirely analog on Magical Multi-Flutes. It sounded like a confusing waterfall of windy dance beats, but Maestro was always into it. He was sure this woman probably wasn't into techno-flute, but her accent made him immediately want to treat her like an old friend.

She turned back to her new acquaintance and held out a hand. "I am Nika. I believe I heard something about a boggart?"

"Greetings Nika," Maestro took her hand and kissed it like a gentleman, bowing his head. "Again, I'm very sorry about knocking you off-balance there. Simon left me a little surprise in our basement. You can call me Maestro." He tapped behind him with his wand on the basement door, and the basement tapped back.

With Simon still a no-show behind the bar, Maestro jumped over and improvised. "Our finest Schnapps, you say? What type, specifically? I'd say our Peach is our best, especially in the summer months. On the rocks, or by itself?" With a bit of frantic searching Maestro found the glasses and the right bottle, assembling as to his new friend's specifications.

In his searching for Nika he found the bottle of his own craving under the bar. "Ugh, Simon! There was a bottle of absinthe under here the whole time!" He got not reply. He poured himself a glass, tumbling back over the bar to sit with Nika. When he picked up his glass to take a sip, he jumped as the basement door opened and slammed again: the boggart making itself known. "What's the spell for getting rid of boggarts, again? I was rubbish in Defense Against the Dark Arts."