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The silverware twirled lazily on the rich and dark, within the creamy oat milk Nova's not so nimble fingers. Creating small ripples along the surface as the witch's puckered lips blew on the foamy liquid.
He was late.
She never supposed a man of such honor to be unpunctual, seeing that he was considered the most famous and also the greatest Auror of all time.
Sighing she leaned her back on the rigid chair. The coffee shop was in the town square. Around the edges were food vendors, giving the middle of the civic a sort of marketplace atmosphere. It looked rather archaic yet perfect.
"Black" the usual gruff voice interrupted her silent haven of thoughts.
"Moody" she sighed, her eyes idly going to the man who had accompanied her on the other side of the round table, slowly she voiced her thoughts "I didn't deem you as tardy"
"He got caught up," another voice chimed.
She instantly recognized that voice. It was a rather hoarse yet soothing and it was perkily painted with a faint nasal quality; arching her brows with astonishment and confusion, she blurted, "Cruz"
"Snape" he smiled softly as he took the other seat, with the same confusion as the witch engrossing his face.
"That's not-," she tittered softly to cover the irritation that caused her heart hearing her being associated with that name, "That's uh not my name"
"Right" the brown-haired man tilted his chin up in realization, remembering his very last conversation with the witch. With a tilt of an eyebrow he commented, "So I take it, you're still having an identity crisis"
"I am not having an identity crisis" she playfully scoffed at the man.
"Sure" he sniggered feigning acceptance of her words, his eyes meeting hers to reciprocate the friskiness and neither seemed to want to break the contact as if competing who would be the one to budge. And soon this trance was broken by Moody's clear of the throat.
"I see that you've met" Alastor declared, his fake eye planted on Cruz. Before he could continue Nova chimes in,
"I'm sorry but why have you called us here?" she questions, impatience tainting her voice, "I have a kid to tend to, you know?"
"A what?" Iago's head instantly snaps towards the witch, but the other two seemed to blatantly ignore his words as they continued the conversation.
"Moody, will you answer me?" she piqued impatiently.
"I will if you let me speak!"
As if on cue a fourth person piped in the conversation, "Sorry I'm late I got-, well hello there", a rather feminine voice interrupted her sentence as her eyesight fell on Nova, a tint of flirtatiousness etching the end of her sentence.
