Plans (Open)

Chale slauntered through Diagon Alley and walked back into the Leaky Cauldron with all his groceries needed for the job he had gotten at Hogwarts. He was looking forward to starting there, and he was amused that he had managed to become Head of Slytherin. That suited him perfectly fine.

He sat down by the counter, putting his bag down and gave a nod to the bartender. "I'll have a butterbeer this time," he said calmly.

When he got it, he rose from the stool and sat down at a table in a corner, spreading out some parchment and fishing out his quill and ink. He was curious about the quill as it was new and he then started plotting the lessons in infiltration he would have.

As he had gotten pretty far in the year, he realized just how much he really missed Hogwarts. He let a small smirk appear on his face, and continued the planning.

Anabelle never thought it'd be so hard to figure out how to run a school. It bothered her greatly how it was hard to find new teachers. All of them had left, all of them as soon as she ascended as Headmistress. They had forgotten how she had worked alongside them faithfully and equally as determined.

Now she not only had to rebuild a whole school system, but had to take care of her sister who was not going to go to Hogwarts, and having to deal with the terrible Muggle situation. As she headed to the bar, the bartender looked at her sympathetically.

"Firewhiskey please" she said stressed out.

As the drink came to her she took a sip and sighed as the burning sensation went down her throat.

Chale looked up as he heard someone say 'Firewhiskey' by the bar. His eyebrows rose slowly. It was still pretty early. But when his eyes landed on the woman sitting there he was not only surprised to see that it was the Headmistress, but she looked beyond stressed.

Chale sighed. He wasn't the most social type in the world, but he figured he'd be rather foolish if he didn't even try to establish a friendly relationship to the headmistress. So, he rolled up his parchment and put his quill (which he was anything but pleased with, he would have to complain later) and ink bottle into his bag of merchandise. He then put a wandless charm at it, so no one would be able to touch it but him.

He walked over to the headmistress and sat down on a stool in his very stealthy way that was second nature to him. He didn't even know that she might not have noticed him.

"Rough day?" he asked and ordered another butterbeer; he had a nack for them.

Anabelle was going to glare at the man, but as soon as she figured out who it was she nodded. Honestly for her it wasn't early enough for firewhiskey when she was exhausted. She was on her last nerves, but she managed to be polite.

"Running a school is not easy" she replied softly. "What brings you here with....butterbeer?" she asked amused.

Chale gave a smile. "I'd be willing to bet on that, yes," he said calmly.

He then nodded. "Yeah, me and butterbeer go way back," he joked.

Then he shook his head. "Seriously, butterbeer is my addiction. I find it helps me think," he said with a shrug.

Anabelle laughed softly at the new Professor. She tried to remember his name, but it was escaping her mind. She remembered the last name vividly though.

"I can see that clearly Mr. Riddle" she said amused. "Afraid Butterbeer and I took out separate paths the moment I turned seventeen"

It was nice to have an adult conversation. She was sick of being surrounded by paintings that did nothing but complain.

Chale's smirk widened slightly. She was amusing. Though Chale was no where near offended by her statement, he did see some truth in it.

"Yes, well. Giving up butterbeer to me is like giving up firewhiskey to alcoholics," he said with a light shrug.

Then he frowned. "And, no, that was not a proclamation of me thinking you're an alcoholic. I honestly don't," he said, his smile returning.

"Oh, please, call me Chale," he said.

She seemed to like to talk to him. He could imagine her not having a lot of time to talk to others later, so it was understandable.

"Is the staff improving at Hogwarts?" he asked her curiously.

At first Anabelle lifted her brow, wondering if it was a jibe at her. Still she took no offense, but seeing him backtrack brought amusement to her. She smirked and let out a light chuckle.

"Calm down, you aren't getting a pink slip for that jibe" she teased.

Hearing him asking her to call him Chale she smiled.

"Well call me Anabelle then" she replied. "And yes. Sadly we have lost a lot of professors and are still looking for new positions. I am thinking that I might even have to take a few positions"

Chale chuckled. "Well, I'm glad," he said humorously.

He looked around the bar as some people walked in, people he'd never seen before. His thoughts drifted to the way muggles also came in here sometimes. He wondered what it was like to be one of them. A muggle. One who couldn't talk to snakes and be completely normal. He wasn't normal, and though it didn't bug him, he was curious.

"All right then, Anabelle," Chale said with a smile.

He had understood that the situation with the staff was a tad dire, and he had therefore taken on the responsibility of being the Head of Slytherin, though it hadn't been in his plans. He had of course gone with Slytherin as it was his ancestor and he had been in that house during his time at Hogwarts.

"I think I could be a substitute teacher for some classes should it be necessary, and if that be the case, you know where to find me," he said with a smile, taking a sip from his butterbeer.

"So, how long have you been headmistress at Hogwarts?" he asked her.