Three Sticks and Stones


 * 4202677468 5d67324469 o.jpg Brigham Allistair Potter - 26 years old /Blood traitor / Bound to the Three Broomsticks as bartender /Play by: Ryan Kennedy
 * Aria Clare Hart - 24 years old/ Works at Three Broomsticks/ Play by: Kendra Spears

It was all Brigham Potter could do to keep his mouth shut. He was bound to the Three Broomsticks, embarrassingly restricted in his magic, for that mouth. It was a lesson telling him to keep it closed, to keep his head down, to forget about any such thing as La Blanche or the fact that his father was murdered.

And, even if he wanted to--which he sorely did--what could he do now for either of those things? He had a short radius around the Sticks in which he could walk unless given permission by Madam Bromilda, and she was on just as tight of a leash as he was. If she didn't keep him confined to the bar, make sure that he was asleep in one of the rooms upstairs at night, it would be her neck on the line too. And he just couldn't do that to Bromilda. Plus, if he so much as breathed a word about an uprising against the Rouge, it was likely that his next form of punishment would be death.

Brig pushed hard against the broom he was sweeping the floor with, attempting to clean the best he could before the tavern reopened in a few hours. He realized that he was pushing too hard, letting too much of his anger seep into his work, but he couldn't stop. He didn't stop, either, until the head of the broom snapped free from the handle. It cracked and toppled, heavy, to the floor. For a long moment, Brigham only stared at it. He could use his magic to repair it, but it drove him mad that that was about all his magic could do now.

Moving stiffly--almost mechanically--Brigham bent and retrieved the broken broom head and carried it behind the bar, to the storage closet. He stepped inside, finding a corner to tuck away the broken broom for someone to fix who didn't risk humiliation.

"Potter, where-- Oh, there you are."

Brigham turned at the sound of Aria Hart's voice. She was also employed at the Sticks, though her commitment to the tavern wasn't the forced kind. She stood in the open doorway, looking--as always--as if she hated the mere sight of him, which was a shame, considering that Brigham found her almost painfully attractive. Perhaps it was painful, because he knew that she despised him. Even before all of the blood traitor business--back in Hogwarts even--Aria had made her disdain for him evident. She would often prattle on about him having some sort of ridiculously large ego and being an arrogant ass.

"Looking for me, sweetheart?" He smirked.

He could practically hear her gritting her teeth. "Just making sure you hadn't tried to escape. Also looking for the mop."

Stepping into the closet with him, Aria was careful not to touch him as she moved past him, but, when she turned back, the mop in hand, their bodies brushed. One moment she was trying to keep her space, and the next she was pressed up against him. Brigham felt the heat instantaneously, but the last thing he expected was for Aria to kiss him.

Outside the closet, the tavern was empty, Madam Bromilda still being tucked into bed. Inside the closet, the world was turning on its head. Brigham knew that she had kissed him first, but he wasn't sure who had reached for the other first. He only knew that his heart was racing, his hands shaking. They were half undressed before Aria's mouth went suddenly still on his.

Though he should have expected it, Brigham wasn't prepared when she shoved him, and he toppled against the shelf behind him, one of his arms still caught in the sleeve of his shirt.

"Do you think I'm crazy, Potter?

Well, yes, he sort of did, at that moment in time. One minute she was kissing him, and the next she was shoving him off. If he remembered correctly, the entire thing had been her idea. He decided to lie anyway.

"Of course not. What do you mean?"

He could see her chest heaving, though she'd managed to stay considerably more dressed than he had, which only proved to him that she had been undressing him faster.

"You're a blood traitor," she hissed, and then, angrier, "Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face. This won't ever happen again."

The grin did fade at her hateful reminder of what he was to the community: a blood traitor. Did she really find him that filthy when she had only just been snogging him? Brigham said nothing as she whirled and stomped out of the closet, but he watched her go. His life was admittedly in enough turmoil, but he was already imagining that it was taking a turn for an even more complicated road.

He had a feeling that he wasn't going to get the taste of Aria off of his lips very soon, and he was already wanting more..