Dinnertime July 6th, 1895 — The Three Broomsticks

Barnabas had settled himself at the end of the bar of The Three Broomsticks, a dead-eyed stare at a spot somewhere near his dinner plate, and nursed a glass of whiskey. The plan for today had gone to shit. He'd forgotten his cravat in America. His morning had been a right mess. His visit to his ex-beloved's grave had not turned out how he'd thought it would, and now here he was, having dinner in an incredibly public place because at this point, he didn't even care if people knew he was in town. That ship had sailed the moment he'd ventured out of Mrs. Stewart's boarding house.

And still, his pounding headache hadn't gone away. He could really use some coffee. The thought of another day of running into people he knew, being judged, and dealing with the whole... mourning business... without any coffee sounded less enticing than scooping his eyeballs out with his spoon. (That was saying something–Barnabas was quite attached to his eyeballs.)

He'd already asked multiple times. But nothing could stop him for reaching for the sleeve of someone who had just stepped through the staff door nearby. "Are you absolutely certain you don't have any coffee?" He croaked.

Apollonia Honeycutt

  

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Barnabas walks with a cane • Set by the lovely Lady • plot with me

Pollina was used to whining customers, and yet this one - his name escaped her, she swore she’d seen him around but he was a hard one to place - was relentless. He’d asked when he first sat down, and when Pollina responded that the coffee delivery had been delayed for the week, he’d looked glum but resigned. But then he’d asked one of the servers a second time. And then a third time. When her sleeve had been plucked a fourth time, Pollina had just about had enough, and she turned to the man again.

“For the last time, no we do not sir,” She answered with the rough patience she normally reserved for the tougher customers who didn’t seem to take no for an answer. “Our delivery was delayed for the week and we’re currently out. We should have more in the next few days though, and you’re welcome to come back if you’d like.” The man looked in rough shape, but for Apollonia that certainly wasn’t an excuse.

  

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If Barnabas were in his elder years, he would have harumphed at this point. However, he did still have his dignity (at least for the time being), so he refrained. She was fairly familiar - a year below him at Hogwarts, he thought. Her annoyance was obvious enough, though she wasn't exactly rude per say. She had a tone, though. One he was very familiar with receiving from women. It usually meant that they found him intimidating, and lost a bit of their composure because of it. Normally, Barnabas would have done the polite thing and overlooked it... but today had been far from normal.

"No need to be shrill," He told her with a glare and sank his head into his hands, elbows propped up on the bar, "I've the most awful head pain which I will apparently will have no relief from until 'the next few days'–and it's impolite to make it worse."

  

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Barnabas walks with a cane • Set by the lovely Lady • plot with me

Maybe another day Apollonia would have had the patience to deal with such a rude customer, but today was not that day. She took a step back so she went from being positioned at his elbow to straight in front of him, her hand propped on her hip and directed a withering glare at him, her blue eyes shooting daggers at him.

“Perhaps if you’d lead with that, sir,” She said, the word ‘sir’ revealing exactly how much respect she thought him worthy of. “I might have made an exception and found you some somewhere. I could have one of the waitresses bring you a particularly strong cup of tea if you would prefer that.” Spiked with a sneeze, if you continue onward with this sort of attitude. She added in her head.

  

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Barnabas Skeeter

His head snapped up as she suddenly appeared in front of him, gray gaze meeting hers for only a moment before her sharp glare had him focusing on his dinner plate. What was it with blonde women in Hogsmeade giving him an attitude today? And why did it make him feel like a dog with its tail between its legs? Baranbas would never admit that he felt a little bit afraid of them, but that didn't mean it wasn't true.

The suggestion of a strong tea wasn't bad. It might at least reduce the intensity of his headache, though likely not eliminate it entirely. Although, he was a bit confused as to her wording. He nodded miserably, "I'll have to settle for it. The strongest cup of tea you have, please." And then, with a frown and confused expression, "Are you not a waitress also?"

  

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Barnabas walks with a cane • Set by the lovely Lady • plot with me