Kate's Challenge

Tom the Bartender – Romilda Vane – Compass – Knickerbockers

Tom stepped out onto the muggle street outside of his pub the Leaky Cauldron. He had business to do with one Romilda Vane, and for some reason, she insisted on meeting him in a muggle café instead of the Leaky Cauldron which would be much more convenient for him. What poor Tom didn't know was that this plan made the plotline much more convenient for the author because she needed him in muggle clothes to fulfill requirements of a challenge. Because of Romilda's and the author's insistence, Tom had been forced to pull together an outfit of muggle clothes.

His outfit consisted of bright green Wellies, a gold button-down shirt, and an obnoxiously purple pair of knickerbockers that were about three sizes too big for him held up by a studded black belt. Muggles along the street gawked and giggled as he passed by. Tom's face turned a deep red. Stupid muggles. Despite normally respecting muggles, Tom could not help but wish that he could just whip out his wand and curse a couple of them.

After an embarrassing ten minute walk, Tom slipped into Versailles, a French-themed café several blocks away from The Leaky Cauldron and peered around for Romilda. She had not arrived yet, so Tom took a seat in a booth by the window. A slim, blonde waitress with an amused look on her face approached his table.

"What can I get you?" she asked, looking as if she was trying to hold in a laugh.

"Er – a roast beef sandwich and a cuppa tea," Tom muttered, sinking down in the booth, self-consciously crossing his arms over his golden shirt.

"Are you sure you aren't interested in any of the house specials?" the waitress chirped. "What you picked isn't exactly French, and we are a French café, you know. Although, I would not be surprised if you didn't know." She eyed his ensemble and let out a small giggle.

"No." He snapped. "Just a roast beef sandwich and tea." He glared at her until she skittered off to the kitchen.

He sat at the table glowering until she reappeared with his meal several minutes later. He had eaten three-fourths of his sandwich before the flighty Romilda blew through the door. She looked much more put together than he did in a pair of cream slacks, a black v-neck sweater, and four-inch high black boots. A small smirk spread across her lips as she caught sight of Tom after pushing her Gucci sunglasses up onto her head.

"Interesting knickerbockers Tom." She sat down and plunked her heavy black bag down onto the table. "You have the information I want?"

Tom pulled a notebook out of the pocket of his knickerbockers. "Here you go Miss Vane," Tom said gruffly. "That notebook has every detail about Mr. Cormac McClaggen that I could gather from listening to conversations around Diagon Alley. I got particularly lucky last Tuesday; he spent half the day drinking in my own pub and spewed out a ridiculous amount of information about himself."

As she flipped through the notebook, her smile grew bigger and bigger. "This is absolutely perfect. I thought I would never get over Harry marrying that Ginny Weasley…and then I met Cormac." She giggled. "He is sooo perfect and dreamy. This information will do wonders in creating the perfect relationship. Thank you!"

"And – and did you really bring what I requested?" He looked hopefully at her bag.

"Of course, we made a deal. My Great Aunt Marianne had no need for some silly old compass." Carelessly she pulled an elegant golden compass engraved with a double H out of her bottomless bag. "Here. Take it."

He beamed, taking it from her and practically caressing compass. He plunked his muggle money down on the table and stood up; he wanted to use it as soon as possible. "Good luck with Cormac, Miss Vane."

"Why did you want that silly old thing anyway?" she asked, standing back up as well.

"Well, you see Miss Vane, I was a Hufflepuff in school. It was very embarrassing because I was absolutely awful at Hufflepuffy things. Helga Hufflepuff's compass will improve me as it will guide me to have the key trait of a Hufflepuff."

"Oh. And what is that exactly?"

"Hufflepuffs are particularly good finders."

At the moment the waitress appeared next to them, a confused look on her face. "What the hell is a Hufflepuff?"

The End.