It was really quite ironic.

Fate, it seemed, brandished a rather sadistic trait, determined as it was to repeatedly force him into random encounters with the fellow Slytherin student. For yes; though the sight was poor in the crowded room, he had no doubts concerning her factual identity. Alannah Morgan. Generic, obnoxious bookworm with a disturbing tendency to pop out of nowhere at inappropriate times. Had the circumstances been different, he would, of course, not care the least of whether she stuck around or went to god knows where She was a nuisance he didnt have to acknowledge, a lingering presence that seemed to be everywhere he went and still did nothing to bother him. That was, nothing save existing, but that was hardly an offence for which the girl herself was to blame. Still, it seemed almost as if the girl had a crush on him and had taken up the unconventional method of stalking her beloved Though, given the mutual hatred that had flourished during last years potions session, one could easily rule out that option.

Perhaps it was merely a random twist of fate that planted the girl so close to him at such a critical point. Perhaps it was circumstance that brought them together, nothing but similar mentalities (if that was at all possible) and mutual interests that continuously plotted against them. In other words, perhaps it was nothing but sheer and pure chance, and as such the presence of Morgan was perhaps as insignificant as, say, the presence of the drunken wino in the far right corner. She could have her own reasons for paying the sleazy joint a visit, he wouldnt put it past her; It could be some dubious deal, some random love-affair, or god knows what else that any respectable pureblood could be expected to dabble in when out of sight from the public. It could be all of that, all of that and so much more.. And still, he couldnt help but doubt the reliability of that explanation.

If it had been someone else, anyone, he would have discarded the notion with a shrug of his shoulders. After all, your Typical Tyke of Slytherin didnt care enough to investigate the Head Boys personal affairs; especially not when keeping their proverbial hands so full of their own. Indeed, private matters was precisely that; private, and more often than not this was properly respected. As long as one didnt interfere with others business, the said others had an inclination to grant you the very same courtesy. Granted, there were exceptions defining that rule, but then again even the likes of McShane and his rag-tag band of self-righteous Gryffindors had assumed a rather low profile as of late. Presumably that was but yet another proof that strengthened the previous statement, as ignoring McShanes provocations (on account of having his thoughts elsewhere) had proven effective in ridding himself of that nuisance. If but for the moment. That was, however, quite beside the point; the point being that - while he most likely would have ignored the presence of anyone else the appearance of Alannah seemed a little too convenient.

Perhaps it was merely a fit of paranoia; some sort of manifestation of the dread and seething worry that it was only natural to experience prior to similar engagements (that was, if what he was about to do was even comparable to anything). It did, however, seem rather suspicious; and especially so when, as previously mentioned, the subject apparently had invented the disturbing habit of showing up around him at every opportunity. As if she was keeping an eye on him, for whatever the purpose. Of course, Charles was properly used to being scrutinized by now, as the public version of his ordeal with Marlene McKinnon and the ministry had led to a number of raised eyebrows and speculations from the general student body. However, such speculations had been suitably dropped eternities ago. As the gossip front moved to other atrocities and his presumed innocence where established, few put any weight at whatever unfortunate trials he had been forced through during the previous summer. It was all dead and buried, so to speak; forgotten pieces of the past that no one cared to remember. All in all, naught but one of many memories from a summer holiday that was better left forgotten.

Still, Morgan persisted. Perhaps it was paranoia; perhaps it was sheer idiocy, but the more he thought of it the more he thought he begun to recall Alannah Morgan being around him a lot more than usual. Merlin, he had barely seen the girl before his sixth year at Hogwarts; while, during the last few months, a part of him noticed her everywhere. Oh, perhaps it was his imagination pulling his leg; perhaps it had always been like that, perhaps she had always been there, and he had merely failed to put any weight at the unremarkable girl prior to their first meeting. Perhaps.. No. It was only a notion, but nevertheless her presence was ultimately distressing. Unnerving. And, however ironic the statement (given what sort of quest he himself was about to embark on), she was definitively up to something.

Despite the hustles and bustles of the rest of the establishment, he couldnt take his eyes off her.

Suffice it to say all things of significance that previously occupied his thoughts was wiped away from his mind, erased at the realization that his escapades where already discovered. As such, in what previously had been a chaos of fear, excitement and anticipation, there was now only one consistent train of thought and that being narrowed down to the root of the unexpected complication. His eyes were positively drawn to it. Consequentally, he needed to do something about it; though given his situation, his options were hopelessly limited. As was his time, the clock steadily ticking further and further toward the designated hour. He needed to take action, so to speak, but the crowded surroundings rendered the more appealing alternatives out of the question. And, unfortunately, she didnt seem about to make it easier for him by leaving. Pity that, as otherwise there was always the Obliviate..

"Anything else?"

The barmaids voice brought him back to reality. Concentrated on Morgan, he had barely noticed that the former was no longer lingering about the latter. Confusion followed, but lasted no more than a second. Though maintaining his scrutiny of Morgan, he allowed his gaze to flicker to the barmaid for a moment. Better take advantage of the opportunity; and besides, he could definitively need another drink. Supposedly it was the least he could do, at the moment..

"Another Ogden's, please, He stated, removing a galleon from his pockets and placing it upon the counter. It should be more than enough to cover the expenses, no doubt. Coming from a wealthy family, money was never a problem. Besides, he craved the alcohol, craved its soothing effects, however determined he was to limit his intake to controllable levels. Though, yes, perhaps that was the proper way to go about it.. Pausing for a second, driven by a rather vague impulse, he suddenly repeated the procedure and added another three galleons, eyes flicking back to the barmaid yet again. As said, money was never a problem. Or.. Make that two, while youre at it. And bring that girl here, would you?,

He was quite certain that the barmaid would know precisely of whom he spoke, but nevertheless he triggered a nod in her direction. Just to be on the safe side.