Erik wasn't particularly pleased by the results of round one either. He would donate to Hogwarts and pretend to be an obedient school Governor when appearances dictated, but...he vould not cheer for that school. If they were to win this competition, to win this money back, and solve all their financial problems...

All his work would be for nothing. He just couldn't allow it.

So after the competition was over, he wandered off by himself. He wound up in the Hog's Head, people watching from a table in the corner with a drink in his hand. Naturally he had to go greet the old acquaintance of his who walked in.

"Shevchenko," Erik murmured as he closed the gap between their tables. He sat down uninvited with his drink and gave the man a thin smile. "Good to see you...here." Interesting to see him here, actually. How had he managed to secure himself a position as a judge? Erik wanted to know.

Looking up from the table, Fedir's posture relaxed subtly when he saw the man standing before him. "Vinteren," he replied as his lips turned up in a faint smile. "Has been long time. Good see you here as vell"

He rose from his seat to give his old friend a handshake - but the black dragonhide gloves did not come off. "What do you haff there?" he asked, indicating the drink in Vinteren's hand.

It had indeed been a long time. Erik returned the simple handshake- Fedir always with the gloves -and resumed his seat. "It's someving vhe bartender makes," he shrugged in reply. "He's a good, quiet man." Meaning, someone somewhat trustworthy...not like that floozy treasurer at the other pub here.

"So you're a judge in this competition," Vinteren cut straight to the chase. Maybe he'd caught someone's curiosity bug. "Congratulations." He took a sip of his whatever drink.

Mystery drink. How adventurous. Fedir nodded his head at the beverage but made no move to get one for himself. All in due time and he was not sure that beverage x was what his pallet was calling for. "Hood to know." About the bartender.

"You seemed surprised," he chuckled as he took his seat once again. "Been on Board for several years. I was asked by president to come and represent Eastern Europe section. So I come. I watch. I judge."

Yes, good to know. This was the pub to come to, if Fedir was catching Erik's subtle drift.

"Vell, a person can certainly change from his university days." He chuckled softly too. "And?" Erik encouraged him with a slight bump from the hand by his drink. "How did Durmstrang do so poorly, vith you as a judge?" He chuckled again as though that were a joke but his deep blue eyes held no mirth....really, vhy vere they not in first? Shevchenko Shevchenko Shevchenko.

Fedir couldn't help but smirk. "Ja, but some things stay same." He eyed the glass with the mystery beverage briefly. "It vas unfortunate. Did not expect such poor showing from them. But I vould not worry," he replied as he smirk grew a little more. "Certain measures vill be taken so things different next round." Things that did not directly involve him. He needed to keep his position on the board for certain reasons so his hands needed to stay as clean as possible.

Let others do the dirty work and take the fall.

"Hogvarts did vell though. Should you not be pleased, governor?" he continued with a knowing chuckle.

He vould not worry? Shevchenko always was the overconfident one. But okay, Erik vould try to not worry too. Easier said vhan done.

"Ha," the blonde man replied, picking up his glass again and draining the drink in one quick gulp. "Pleased is about vhe farthest thing I feel for that school."

Fedir covered his mouth with one of his gloved hands to muffle his laugh. Vinteren was a bold one, saying such things where others could potentially over hear. But that has also been one of the things that the Ukrainian had always liked about Vinteren.

"Vant another?" he asked with a nod towards Vinteren's empty glass. "I need something myself. Drinks on me. You tell me all about this love you have for Hogvarts."

Not literally since he was staying in Hogsmeade on the Board's galleon.

Fedir was chuckling, he could tell. That also told Erik that he should probably...talk less, and let the Ukranian tell him some things now. It was only polite to take turns.

Another? "Vell...if you are buying.." he wouldn't turn him down.

Potions HW 1-Post 4
 

Having downed his aging potion, Cutty now could easily pass for an of age wizard. He would've preferred to have been older. Older, like maybe with a long, long beard. It made he jealous that all who'd gone to Professor Flamsteed's class had gotten one for practically just showing up. Maybe there could've been a potion just for beard-growing, for now he'd work with what he had accomplished. He did wonder however if this was the intended age of the potion or if more advanced and experienced witches and wizards could get their aging potions to truly give them wrinkles and weathered features.


The man-boy bellied up to the bar and spoke full of certainly, "I'll have a fire-whiskey!" His voice was all hella deep and it served as a pleasant surprise to the boy. He even sounded older!

Samuel Huxley had owned this pub for many, many years. And he had learned quite a few lessons standing behind that bar, seeing many of-age students and adults pass through, as well as students that were not of-age that attempted to slip under his radar by using aging potions.

Due to his many years of practice, he was very good at reading people. Samuel Huxley was not stupid.

Now there were two options with this guy, because everyone who knew the Hog's Head didn't strut in like he just did. They didn't talk like that, either. Sam knew his bar. Option one: he was not from around here. If he was, he would know that that kind of behavior was suspicious. Option two: he was a youngster, attempting to be 'cool'. More often than not, option two rang true.

Wiping a glass with a rag, Sam stared the man down for a moment. He wanted a firewhiskey, eh? "Sure," he said, setting the glass on the counter. He pulled a bottle labeled "firewhiskey" up, popped the lid off and poured the warm-colored liquid into the boy man's cup. If the stranger knew anything about firewhiskey, he'd know that this drink was most definitely not firewhiskey, but in fact, some sort of watered down, smokey-flavored, nasty crap that he only used on special occasions. This was a special occasion.