1994-10-15: Snowballing Encounter


Crane_icon.gif Elizabeth_icon.gif

Scene Title Snowballing Encounter
Synopsis When searching through books, Crane literally runs into Elizabeth, sending her tumbling. And one situation leads to another, and then another.
Location Hogsmeade, Scrivenshaft's Quills and Three Broomsticks
Date October 15, 1994
Watch For Elizabeth frustrating Crane unintentionally. Smirks, sarcasm, and witty remarks. Bargaining. And then, a first kiss.
Logger Elizabeth

Hogsmeade, Scrivenshaft's Quills

Scrivenshaft's is suitably filled with quills. They're all organized by size and thickness, covering almost an entire wall in just feathery writing utensils. The shop also carries stationary and parchment to put those quills to work. There's decorative paper and parchment for every day use for sale, in less order but still easy to sort through. Ink is kept behind the counter in large vats. Scrivenshaft gladly siphons off any color imaginable into the smaller glass containers for traveling.

The bell to the door rings as it opens, allowing a brief wind of the coming October air before the boots of a young girl steps in, tapping against the rug as the door rings again when it closes behind her. With a breath, Elizabeth reaches up to push back the soft wool scarf over her shoulder over the dark gray sweater, absently pushing up her wire, round-rimmed glasses over her nose. Her sky blue eyes behind her glasses narrow slightly, glancing passively over the store's wares. Her hand at her side once again, brushing alongside her pleated skirt as she turns into the first row of merchandise.

Not far behind Elizabeth is someone else with dark hair and cool blue eyes; Crane catches the door just a half-second before it can slam shut, the sound of the bell going off double-time as he pushes it open again and steps inside. Looking somewhat exasperated, he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his robes and begins to pace very slowly down the first aisle he comes across. He doesn't bother to push the long coal-black bangs from in front of his eyes, instead simply peering through them as his gaze flits from the title of one book to the next. So absorbed is he in this behavior that he fails to notice that he's on a gradual crash-course with the Ravenclaw girl.

As nature intended, the impact into the girl happens within moments, causing her to stumble and fall forwards, rolling to land on her side as her glasses skid across the worn wood floor. All happening within mere moments of each other. Elizabeth's sky blue eyes blink for a moment with some surprise, only to wince slightly and reaching back to rub at the hip she landed on, "Bloody hell…" she grumbles to herself, though her expression instantly scrunches as she looks around for her glasses. The raven-haired girl only sighs to herself, reaching down to pull her wand from her boot as she flicks her wrist, "Accio glasses." she commands clearly, her circular glasses flying from their spot on the floor to her hand. Slipping her wand into her boot again, she lifts a brow at her glasses, tucking her fingers through her sweater as she calmly wipes her glasses off.

Nearly losing his own balance, Crane teeters on the edge of one foot for a moment before righting himself with a slight 'Oof!', his attention immediately locking onto the person he's just bumped into. For a few seconds a scowl tugs at his lips, and he looks as if he might snap something at the girl in spite of the fact that he was the one who ran into her - but eventually he offers a hand to help her up. "Oops. Sorry, I was a bit zoned out, there," He intones drily, one brow arching a little as he observes her. Kneeling down, he reaches out with the hand he's not already offering to her and sets a single digit on the bridge of the glasses, his lips forming into a soft smirk. "You should consider losing those. You're cuter without them."

Elizabeth arches a brow the moment the boy presses his fingertip against the bridge of her round-rimmed glasses. She pauses a moment before lifting her left hand, she slowly pushes his finger away with the back of her fingers, releasing a calm breath as she raises her glasses to slip them over her ears along the bridge of her slender nose. "Apology accepted, though it is not a usual occurrence. With slender rows of merchandise with little room to wander through it is bound to happen eventually." she answers idly, her sky blue eyes focusing through her glasses to look up at Crane for the first time. At least in focus. There is a subtle pause before she lifts a brow at him. "Though I must admit, not entirely an original line. But I suppose it is better than the usual juvenile names of 'four eyes' and so forth." Shifting her weight, she pulls her feet underneath her before standing to her feet once more, releasing a light sigh. "Dweedle. Elizabeth Dweedle." she states impassively.

The matter-of-fact attitude Elizabeth seems to embody is registered, digested, and - as with most things - quickly laughed at, by Crane. He takes a moment to lean back, since it's clear she's not going to accept his help anyway, and snigger to himself. "And not an entirely original response, either. I've been rejected in much more interesting ways." He stands up properly and stretches, smirking a little once more at her name and tentatively offering a hand to her. "Bloody doozy of a name, isn't it? But my first one isn't much better, so - Crane. Call me Crane." Whether or not she takes the hand, he'll quickly drop it to his side, and then pause considering for a few moments before continuing. "Still, that name sounds a bit familiar. Isn't there a bookstore or something named Dweedle's?"

Elizabeth gives him an odd look, as if genuinely confused. "'Rejected'? I think I would need a bit more clarification on that topic if you are wanting to pursue that subject further." she answers before moving on, watching him idly as he stands and smirks at her name, though this doesn't seem to surprise her in the least. The raven-haired girl lifts a brow at his hand, debating for a moment before reaching for his hand and shaking it. "'Doozy', quite….." she says slowly. "Personally, I fancy it. I find it fascinating how unique it is." Liz lowers her chin in a nod to him, "Crane then. A pleasure. Well, with the exception of the collision of course." she takes back her hand, about to turn and look over the books in their row before she pauses. For the second time in mere moments, she gives him an odd look, wondering before she lowers her chin in a nod again, "Yes, Dweedle's Wheedles." she answers easily, "It is my father's bookstore. We live right above it." It was at that moment Elizabeth blinks at herself, frowning slightly. She had never bothered to tell anyone before about where she lives.

"Er…" Crane just looks mildly confused in his own right at the girl's response, both of his brows shooting up for a few seconds as he tries to figure out whether she's being serious or just even more sarcastic than him. It looks as if he's on the verge of ignoring any further topics of conversation and going back to his own search, one of his hands coming to rest on the spine of a dusty old book as he turns away - but the sound of her voice causes him to release it and glance back over at her again. "Oh… yeah. I think I've been in there once or twice," He admits almost sheepishly. And Crane's usual facade is anything /but/ sheepish. Within seconds his usual cool demeanor returns, and he smirks at her, leaning against the same shelf of books he'd just intended to start browsing a second ago so that he can meet her eyes with his own. "That's in Diagon, right? Isn't it a bit… hectic, to live right in the middle of town like that?"

The unusual, fleeting occurrence of a frown appears again, confused as Elizabeth ponders for a brief moment. "That is odd… I usually remember customers…" she murmurs to herself, the confusion deepening slightly, oblivious of his unusual demeanor before the smirk returns and he leans against the shelf. Her sky blue eyes behind her glasses glance up at him, her calm expression returning as she shrugs a shoulder. "Correct, though if you are used to the environment, people can adapt to any living situation if need be." she answers easily, "I have always lived there, I am used to the people. However, my father's bookstore is in lower Diagon Alley. There is a notable difference in foot traffic between the main Alley and the lower Alley."

Shrugging his shoulders lightly, Crane snickers and glances down at the floor, his lips still curled into a mildly cynical smirk. "So? Maybe I'm just not noteworthy," He theorizes, although it sounds more bemused than self-deprecating. Eventually he stares back up at her and shakes his head slowly. "Well, I guess a person can get used to anything." The dark-haired boy lifts himself away from the wall, moving to stand slightly behind the Ravenclaw girl so that he can lean - over her shoulder, seemingly oblivious to how close that brings him to her - to gaze at the books she was browsing. "So, you live in a bookstore, but you spend your Hogsmeade weekend in /here/, of all places. Must be a pretty interesting novel you're looking for if you can't just get it back home, hm?"

Elizabeth frowns some again at his comment, confused, "No, that is not it. I have an eidetic memory, which is why it is strange I do not remember you." after a moment she lifts a brow, pondering out loud to herself. "It is possible that I was not in the store when you had shopped there, however rare of an occurrence that may be." She lifts a shoulder in dismissal, seeming to not to think that the topic isn't worth further pursuit. The moment he leans in to look over her shoulder, glancing over the subjects she had been perusing, she arches a brow at him. The dark haired girl lifts a hand to cough once, crossing her arms as she glances over to the books themselves. "I live /above/ a bookstore." she corrects easily, seeming to either ignore how close he is or oblivious to it. "I am always looking for new books of all topics. There is only so much room in a bookstore; limiting the amount of possible merchandise we have available to the public. And it is the public that every business keeps in mind when considering their wares." Elizabeth pauses for a moment before also admitting to herself. "Fictional works have their appeal as well, but still."

Slowly, Crane leans back, his expression kept carefully blank as he regards the Ravenclaw girl carefully once more. This time, it's with more of an element of… estimation. One set of his fingers clenches into a fist for half a second, and then slowly relaxes, and he sighs. "Like talking to 'Data' from that Muggle space charade," He remarks, more to himself than her - he's relatively certain she won't understand the reference, and even if she does, the likelihood that she'll understand the humor seems even more remote. "Do you realize," He begins again, this time far less sarcastically, "that you have approximately the same amount of charisma as a waterlogged skunk, when you address someone so… banally, like that?" The smirk returns again, and the Slytherin reaches down with one set of long digits; they lightly encircle her wrist, and he takes a step back, although he doesn't tug her or anything like that - merely tries to lift her arm in a way that would be indicative of the fact that he wants her to follow. "I love a good read, but clearly, you are in dire need of… /not/ being around books. Feel up to a Butterbeer, Lizzie-girl?"

Elizabeth arches a brow at his Muggle reference. Indeed, their world holds little interest to her, so this is one of the instances she doesn't understand the reference. "How did I address you then? I believe I have been offering enjoyable conversation thus far and have answered any inquires you posed, despite how we ran into one another. Literally in this particular situation." With a light exhale, she lifts a hand to push up her circular glasses over her nose. "'Charisma'." As his fingers reach down to wrap around her wrist, she blinks with some surprise at him, looking at his fingers for a moment before her sky blue eyes flick upwards to his, giving him an odd look. After a moment, she sighs, "Elizabeth." she instantly corrects, "Certainly. However, you will answer a question I have then."

The two seem to have come to a sort of impasse. Crane arches a brow in return, mirroring her expression for an instant, before he manages a reply. "Yeaaah, well… informational and enjoyable are sometimes two different beasts," He deadpans, shaking his head once again and just sniggering slightly at her apparent confusion. "You've still got the 'cute' thing going for you, at least." When she accepts, he seems more surprised than not, his pale blue eyes widening just a tiche before, with a sardonic grin, he begins to turn in the direction of the exit - but quickly reverts to his original position with a mildly suspicious mien in the face of this unknown condition. "…bloody… fine, I'll bite."

Elizabeth arches a brow at him as he turns to walk to the store's exit, her slender wrist still clasped within his fingers, though it is his reaction and suspicion that earns a light, amused smile. The corner of her full lips barely tugging. "Agreed then." she simply states, turning to walk past him towards the door, though she pauses long enough to look down at his fingers with a calculating glance. "Although I have no issues with personal boundaries, I think it would be in your best interest to release my hand. It is guaranteed that we will run into other students and I do not want you to feel embarrassed if you are caught in a situation you are uncomfortable with."

"That wasn't a question," Crane drawls, obviously aware of the fact that she knows it wasn't - it's voiced more as a semi-snarky complaint. However, as she begins to walk away, he follows her, stopping when she does to glance down at his fingers. "I'm not sure whether that means 'I've got a boyfriend who'll trounce you' or what, but… it's your game," He says, releasing her wrist and taking the opportunity, since she's standing in place, to step ahead of her and open the door. Which also happens to provide him with an opportunity to glance up and down the street for a moment, although the reason for it is unclear; momentarily he glances back in her direction and half-smiles. "Ladies first, then."

"Of course it wasn't." Elizabeth answers matter-of-factly, ignoring his obvious statement. "That's because I said I would ask it at the Three Broomsticks, once we have our Butterbeer." His response regarding him holding her wrist earns a sigh, as if trying to mentally steer herself before shaking her head, "No, I don't have a boyfriend that will 'trounce' you. I merely said it out of your best interest, though now I'm wondering why I bothered originally." The door chimes when he opens the door and the raven-haired girl gives him a skeptical look before it is opened fully and he allows her to walk ahead of him. "And you questioned my intentions." Giving the shopkeeper a nod, Liz turns and walks through the door past Crane, continuing to Three Broomsticks without a pause to wait for Crane to follow.

Hogsmeade, High Street

This is High Street, the main thoroughfare of Hogsmeade, lined to either side with interesting shops. The post office is to one side, near Gladrags Wizardwear, with all manner of owls waiting patiently on their perches outside and hundreds more within. A few storefronts down from the post office is Zonko's Joke Shop. Clouds of colored smoke billow forth from its doors with regularity, occasionally accompanied by loud explosions, and loads of laughter. On the other side of the road is a tiny inn with a wooden sign hung over its entry that reads "Three Broomsticks". A window in the inn's front show's a crowded room with lots of tables. In addition to all the stores, several roads converge here. Two of them look well-traveled, signs proclaiming them to lead to Hogsmeade Station or towards the wrought iron gates of Hogwarts. Up ahead, however, one narrow lane doesn't seem to get much use, grass sprouting in the middle of its path. Farther still, down past Dervish and Banges, another winding track leads off into the wild countryside surrounding the village, towards the rocky foothills of the mountain in whose shadow Hogsmeade lays.

The Fifth Year's pale lips twist down a bit in the face of her astuteness. He still hadn't bothered to push his bangs away from his face up until now, although at this point he raises a set of long fingers to do so. "Right. And what best interests would those be, just out of curiosity?" At this point his usual sarcasm is creeping back into his voice unabated, asked with a genuine vitriolic edge - although, as she starts to outpace him, he turns and takes several long strides to catch up, ignoring the door slamming itself shut behind him. It's not hard to do, considering how tall he is. "No, but I didn't think you'd appreciate being ribbed by my Housemates if they were about and saw you with me." After rolling his eyes, he keeps his gaze pinned on the street ahead of them.

"Exactly. Curiosity." Elizabeth agrees with him, as if he had answered his own question, though she does arch a brow and gives Crane a sideways glance. "I already told you. I care little of personal space. This includes images or reputations, though apparently you are. At least to some degree." Her sky blue eyes glances forward again, shaking her head, "If I am not liked because of who I am, I don't care what others think. But that doesn't mean I will disregard your thoughts about yourself. How am I to know if you do or don't care about being teased by other people." Liz just shrugs a shoulder passively, their steps keeping pace with one another.

The traces of annoyance that had been beginning to surface on Crane's face disappear, replaced by an extremely amused expression. And, shortly after Elizabeth finishes speaking, a burst of laughter. "Wait a moment, you're worried about /me/ being… teased?" The tall, dark-haired Slytherin shakes his head, then reaches down with his hand to take the Ravenclaw girl's once again, though he keeps his eyes pinned to the cobblestone street ahead of them. "Not bloody likely, and if it were - I'm hardly going to have an emotional breakdown about it." No, it's more likely that he'd deliberately give one to whatever unfortunate student annoyed him, although he doesn't submit that fact to the discussion.

As he bursts into laughter, Elizabeth just sighs, "No, not worried. Yet again I find myself wondering why I bothered originally, but at least I took you into deliberation regardless how absurd you clearly find it to be. Next time I will know that the polite consideration is not needed." As he reaches for her hand again, she lifts a brow, her sky blue eyes narrowing behind her glasses some as she glances down at her hand. Finding that indeed, his own had taken hers so casually. His fingers actually warms her some as they walk through the cool October air, their breaths steaming from their lips. Liz glances back up again, watching the roads in front of them as they pass by other students, taking their time getting to Three Broomsticks. "You are a strange boy." she states out loud. "I'm trying to determine your reasoning behind your actions, though it seems to allude me."

"Your concern is… touching, really," Crane says drily, the statement obviously more sarcastic than heartfelt. His chilly blue eyes swivel to take in her face briefly before he locks his gaze on the street once more, automatically changing his course a bit as they navigate their way to the inn. Her very blunt estimation of his character causes him to smirk and arch a single dark brow. "My motivations are perfectly normal ones - I'm taking a girl out for a mug of Butterbeer. No need to attribute my actions to anything else and overcomplicate matters. As for my being strange, well. The pot and the kettle…" Despite his slightly unkind words, he interlaces his fingers with hers and grins. "Almost there." And, indeed, it would seem that the Three Broomsticks is dead ahead now, perhaps another half a 'block' away, if the little Hogsmeade side streets could properly be called blocks.

"At least there was concern. But if you can do without I have no qualms with that as well." Elizabeth answers to his dry statement, and as she lifts her free hand to the bridge of her nose, her slender fingers easily pushes the rim of her glasses upwards slightly as she feels his eyes linger on her for a fleeting moment. "One's motive or 'motivation' is their reasoning for following through an action or behaving a certain way. What you just stated is your future actions and circumstance. As I said, I am trying to figure out your motives." She lightly lifts a brow, the corner of her lips subtly tugging with something of amusement. "And I never said I was not strange. I acknowledge that I am above average in certain ways and below average in others." The moment he laces his fingers through hers, Liz's sky blue eyes flick to their hands, frowning some with confusion as he grins to himself. She returns it with an odd look before releasing a breath and shaking her head to herself. "Either a variable has shifted or I am more unfamiliar with social customs than I originally thought." A dark brow barely quirks. "I may ask more questions than initially intended."

The dictionary-definition explanation gets a slight scowl from Crane again, who turns to regard her with a hint of incredulity. Clearly, he is not used to being corrected. "Oh, very well. My apologies to your colleagues Merriam and Webster. My motive, then, is that I want to take a pretty girl out for a Butterbeer." He speaks flatly, paying more attention to the oncoming doorway of the hotel-cum-tavern than what he's actually saying; once they're within an appropriate distance he reaches out with his free hand and opens it, stepping back a bit as he does so. Either he doesn't consider that this Muggle reference may go over her head once more, or doesn't care - and anyway, there's a certain degree of intermixing when it comes to Muggle and Wizard literature, so she may 'get it' after all. At any rate, he doesn't release her hand in the process of securing the entryway for them, and motions for her to precede him with an inclination of his head toward the interior. "I only agreed to /one/ question, so I'm not giving you any guarantees I'll answer the others." Almost challengingly, he produces an impish smile. "Unless you care to bargain for more, when it comes to that."

The raven-haired girl just shakes her head, the end of her French braid over one shoulder as the midnight blue ribbon tied around the end drifts over her sweater. "Again, 'want' is vague and has no clarity." She states evenly. Elizabeth lifts a brow at him as he then opens the door for her, holding it with a motion of his head towards the open doorway. The challenge in his voice earns a flick of her gaze from it to his eyes, narrowing as he smirks with something mischievous. She is about to answer when a customer steps into the doorway, forcing her to step sideways to Crane's side as the man grunts and pushes past them. Pulling her fingers from his, her sky blue eyes behind her circular glances look back to him, firming. "Very well. But we will discuss this once we get a table." Liz takes turns to pass through the doorway without a glance back at him, the heat of the tavern causing her glasses to steam up almost instantly. She makes a light face at this, pulling her glasses off to carefully wipe them clean with the hem of her dark gray sweater.

Hogsmeade, Three Broomsticks

The interior of Three Broomsticks Inn is usually very crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky. Flagons and tankards of mulled mead, Butterbeer, red currant rum, and other sorts of drinks are poured and served from the polished wooden bar opposite the door by the curvaceous hostess, Madam Rosmerta. A long mirror covers the wall behind the bar, reflecting even the images of patrons tucked into the most shadowy corners. In one corner next to the bar is a large stone fireplace, with a cozy fire burning in it almost all the time. Stools line the bar, and also surround the many tables in the pub in groups of two or four.

The Slytherin glances up at the man who pushes past them with a mildly distasteful grimace, and once the girl's hand slips away from his, begins to move into the tavern behind her. He pulls ahead of her when she stops to wipe her glasses off, glancing back at her briefly and then turning to a nearby table. "You know, you could probably charm those to keep from fogging up like that," He drones idly, not looking at her as he speaks. When she's nearly finished he turns to observe her, another smirk tugging at his pale lips. "Or, better yet, leave them off." But he spends no time clarifying that request, instead walking over to the aforementioned table and pulling out a chair - first one for her, then for himself, before sitting down and folding one leg over the other nonchalantly.

Elizabeth wrinkles her nose lightly before slipping on her round-rimmed glasses again, looking around briefly to find Crane already pulling out a chair at an empty table then taking a seat across from her, with a comfortable and arrogant posture. At least to her it seems like. She lifts a brow at his pose, then at her own chair that he had pulled out, pondering briefly before lowering herself into the seat facing him. "True." she agrees out loud. "It is a simple spell. I imagine I just enjoy it more not being so." Liz answers, thoughtful as if never having considered it before. Lightly shrugging a shoulder, her sky blue eyes glance up behind her glasses at him again, lifting a brow, "It would be impossible to do so without avoiding bothersome obstacles like people, chairs, doors, bookshelves. Though I suppose that did not stop you in the least." The corner of her lips barely tugs.

"I… see," Crane says skeptically, clearly not quite understanding the reasoning behind her explanation. He makes no more of it, though, because her jibe catches him by surprise. Arching his brows, he grins at her and then feigns utter disbelief. "Was that /humor/? No, I must be imagining things, right?" The approach of Madam Rosmerta causes him to focus his attention on the proprietress of the business, and the boy orders two mugs of Butterbeer, remaining in his carelessly-relaxed posture all the while. When she shuffles off to fetch them, he turns his cool gaze back on Elizabeth and watches her with an almost quizzical air, his eyes coming to rest on the blue ribbon she's wearing. "Let me guess - Ravenclaw?"

"Or an observation of what has already occurred in order to redirect attention on my near-sightedness to your one-time clumsiness." Elizabeth lifts a brow at him as he grins at her. "Though it is possible you have an overactive imagination. You do seem to have something of an opinion about yourself, after all." Her sky blue eyes glance through her glasses at Madam Rosmerta as she takes Crane's order and disappears again with it, her eyes returning to him again as he watches her thoughtfully. At his question, she pauses for a moment, debating before answering easily, "I think it would be rather unfair of me to confirm this, seeing as you are intending on charging me for additional questions after the first initial inquiry."

Crane just stares at her for a few seconds in reply, too distracted to say anything in return when Rosmerta reappears with their drinks and sets them on the table before moving on to her next customer. The dark-haired boy picks his up and takes a slow sip, gazing over its lip at Elizabeth through half-lidded eyes. "And you seem to take pleasure in dissecting the English language as if it were a still-wriggling flobberworm." After making this sardonic remark, he sets the mug back down and frowns at her blunt refusal to answer his question. "All right, fair enough. Since we're already on the subject of your inquiry," The Slytherin begins, interlacing his fingers over his lap and locking a coolly inquisitive pair of eyes on hers. "What, exactly, is it?"

Elizabeth lifts a brow at Crane as he stares at her, unsure if this is an accomplishment to leave him speechless for a full minute. As their drinks appear, she wraps her hands around the base, the heated liquid of the Butterbeer warming her hands some before she lifts it to take a drink for a moment or so. Pulling it away from her lips, she quickly licks the remaining froth from her lips, enjoying the taste before her eyes lift to look up at her companion again. She lifts a brow passively as he laces his fingers together, resting them in his lap, as if he was going to tackle a great mystery and was mentally preparing himself for it. Setting her glass on the table between them again, Liz leans back in her seat some, her eyes flicking to the door for a thoughtful moment before sighing to herself. "Why." she states the word by itself. "For some reason, you wanted to ask me here. 'Pulling me away from books', as you had stated. But you met me only a bit ago. Why would you care if I stayed in my books or not. People always have reasons for what they do and usually they are self serving, very seldom are actions irrational. And you have a reason beyond just 'wanting to take a pretty girl out for a Butterbeer'. There is a deeper reason than that." Elizabeth lifts a brow slightly as she glances back to him. "I have another inquiry regarding you. I think I am willing to barter for it, considering I am curious enough. However, it depends on what you want in return." She shrugs a shoulder idly. "I do not have much money on me. And also, I will not do your homework for you if that will be proposed as well."

"Are you accusing me of bumping into you /on purpose/?" Crane asks in return, although he doesn't sound as if he's making the accusation seriously - he seems to realize that she won't be derailed that easily. Instead, he leans back further in his seat, taking a few moments to carefully construct his reply. "You seem like someone who is very uninterested in - well - typical things. You're obviously very intelligent and either choose to ignore your feelings most of the time, or aren't aware of them." He slips, momentarily, into a tone of voice that probably isn't entirely unlike her own - quite matter-of-fact and calculating. But now unfolds his legs and leans closer to her, close enough so that he can speak in a low whisper, his lips parting a mischievous smile as he does, though he doesn't seem entirely aware he's smiling at all. "I wanted to know if I could make you blush and react emotionally, if there was a regular girl under that… antiseptic facade you put up." Returning to his original position, he picks up his Butterbeer again and sips it slowly before speaking again. "I'll have to hear the question before I'm prepared to say what I'll want in return."

Elizabeth releases a light sigh at his first question, as if he was accusing her, though is ignores it completely, regardless if he was joking around or not. Though as he speaks and leans forward, she arches a brow at Crane and his answer, somehow doubtful. She watches him for a silent moment before lifting her mug, taking a few drinks from it again before pulling it away from her lips and setting it on the table once more. "Making girls blush does not seem to be all that much of a difficult task for you, so forgive me if I am still somewhat skeptical of your answer. Second, I also do not see the reasoning behind achieving such a reaction from girls. Other than smug satisfaction. Third, you said wanted in past tense, so now I am curious if you have decided not to pursue this reaction any further. Fourth,…" she lifts a brow at him. "I have only been honest and forward with my answers when you presented inquiries. Why do you think I have a facade?" she speaks the word with a practiced French accent. Her sky blue eyes idly watch him as he drinks, listening to him before releasing another slow breath. "Normal social etiquette of courting is for boys and girls to hold hands with their fingers laced together, if I am correct. And having met you not long ago, why would you be forward with such an action openly? Did you wish to establish some kind of visual statement with doing so in public?"

Crane frowns at being… interrogated so thoroughly, and although he keeps his reaction to her words to a minimum, he still looks somewhat irritated as he picks up his mug again and focuses on drinking the hot liquid therein. After taking several slow sips, he lowers it to the table and sighs. "I'm afraid you'll either have to accept the fact that I /like/ feeling smug satisfaction, or…" He pauses briefly, clearly hesitating, his cool blue eyes flitting away from her face while he does. Eventually they return. "…that I was simply interested in you and wanted to get to know you better." He shrugs indifferently, smirking a little at the first of the two questions she poses. "If you want me to tell you why I think you have a facade, I hope you're prepared to barter for that, too." But it's the second that he devotes most of his attention to, setting an elbow on the table and scooting his chair closer to hers. His bangs are hanging across the front of his face again, but he ignores them. "Sure, I'll tell you why. The price is a kiss. And not some bloody kiss on the cheek - an actual kiss." The mug of Butterbeer is raised to his lips again as he awaits her answer, then deposited back from whence it came.

Elizabeth lifts a brow, not skeptical, but silently thoughtful as he seems to hesitate for a moment in his answer. She briefly taps her fingertips on the side of her own mug, though after a moment the corner of her full lips subtly tugs and she shrugs a shoulder. "I can believe the first easily, I am just unsure why it does. Again, it does not seem all that much of a challenge for you, considering." After a moment, she frowns lightly to herself, the confusion linger for a brief moment before her attention refocuses on him again. The subtle smile barely tugging on her lips once more, "That I do believe. The reasoning behind it is still a mystery, but it is honest." Her sky blue eyes behind her glasses narrow at him for a moment in thought, tilting her head slightly as she ponders. Though the moment passes soon enough as she returns to his smirk, frowning slightly as he proposes another barter for her other question as well. Liz releases a light breath of a sigh, lifting the glass to her lips to take a drink of it, lowering it after a moment to rest on the table once more. When he scoots his chair closer to her, she gives him a slight frown, her expression deepening at him as he sets his price. The look lingers for a silent moment or so, lifting a brow at him. "And you will answer in detail? Not just a flippant answer?" she assures out loud. Elizabeth frowns to herself again, "I am not sure of the parameters of this agreement is acceptable, as I am not sure if I want you to be my first kiss." The frown shifts as she turns her mental puzzle over. "Then again, I have not considered who I wished to be my first kiss to be with. I suppose it would not matter if such an interaction occurred. However, would you want the same payment for the facade inquiry or some other payment in answer?"

Satisfied that she seems to have accepted his answer at least in part, Crane half-smiles, observing her quietly as she considers the bargain he offers her. He doesn't seem to be in any great hurry, going so far as to sip idly on his drink once again and, for a moment, turning to regard the other occupants of the busy little inn before settling his gaze on her once more. "No, I won't answer flippantly. But I'd want the kiss first, since it would be very easy to get an answer from me and then back out." At her slight dilemma, he arches a brow, but does not offer any advice - after all, any advice he offered would be immediately suspect, and besides, it's really for her to decide. "Hm…" The Slytherin raps a set of long digits on the table. "I think… the same payment would be suitable, I suppose. Unless you'd like to offer something else instead."

Elizabeth lightly lifts a brow in thought, though her eyes linger on the surface of the mug for several quiet moments. She slowly releases a breath through her small nose, "The thought of demanding an answer first never crossed my mind." she answers easily. "Yet I am not sure what else to offer you that you would want or do not have, to be fair." The brow arches, "Though I am sure you would not want the same payment repeatedly." After a few quiet moments, she releases a slow breath, shaking her head at herself as she lightly pushes her mug out of her hand and straightens her back. Her fingers reach up to her glasses, pulling them from her head as her sky blue eyes return her attention back to Crane sitting next to her, shifting her weight in her seat towards him. Trying not to hesitate, Liz's slender fingers reach up to brush his dark bangs away from his face, opening it up a bit more to her as her hand gently cradles the side of her face. Slowly leaning forward, her face nears his before her soft lips tilt towards his, closing her eyes after she feels the warm, soft texture of his lips against hers as it lingers for several quiet moments. The noise of the inn around them continuing as time seems to stand still for those moments. Though eventually the quiet passes, lingering in the air before Elizabeth gently breaks the kiss and leans back, her eyes opening to look up into his. She seems to be more conscious for a moment or so, watching him as her lips briefly press together, lifting a brow, "Was that to your expectations?" she murmurs, sounding genuinely curious.

Tilting his head thoughtfully to one side, Crane considers a response briefly, but doesn't have time to finish his line of thought; he's interrupted by her moving closer, and when her lips brush against his own, he closes his own cool blue eyes shut without really intending to. One of his arms reaches out to encircle her shoulders and pull her slightly closer for the duration of the kiss; eventually his fingers trail through her hair and then down her back. Once she leans back away from him, though, he allows his hand to drop idly back to his lap again. Slowly, his eyes open up once more, and he offers her a wry smirk in response to her inquiry. "It was more than sufficient. Actually, it was quite nice, and contrary to your belief, I wouldn't mind demanding the same payment repeatedly at all." Chuckling wryly to himself, he folds one leg over the other again and settles into a relaxed position once more. "But I might just think of something else. Anyhow, as for my part of the bargain…" He picks up his Butterbeer from the table, takes a sip, and then holds it on his lap in both hands. "I wasn't trying to make any sort of visual statement - at least not insofar as other students are concerned. I don't particularly care about that," He says slowly, watching her face as if to gauge her reaction as he goes. "But I also already told you I was trying to make you blush, or at least embarrassed - or to figure out if you like it or not." His shoulders lift in a slight shrug. "Obviously, since I didn't get much of a reaction, and I still don't know the latter, it didn't work."

Elizabeth blinks with some surprise as she leans back in her chair, frowning slightly as she reaches up to the side of her head just above her neck, where his fingers had brushed through her ebony hair, slightly mussing her precise French braid. The confusion lingers for a moment as she thinks to herself, her sky blue eyes glancing up to him before flicking to the table and reaching out for her glasses. She smoothly slides them on, her eyes adjusting from blurry figures as they become focused. Leaning back in her chair again, she lifts a brow, for once not quite knowing what to think. She glances up at him as he becomes relaxed in his chair, crossing his legs as he continues on to answer her question. Releasing a breath, a brow arches as she absently reaches over her shoulder, pulling the braid over her sweatered shoulder as she undoes the deep blue ribbon. Laying it on the table, her slender fingers work at undoing her braid, loosening her long, raven hair until her fingers brush through silken waves. "'Blushing'." she glances to him, "You are determined to make me blush, still? You think it would bring you that much satisfaction, or are you just that curious?" Liz releases another breath, her fingers wrapping around the handle of her mug as she holds it in her lap, frowning some in thought. "Is this just a game then…"

"Ah," Crane breathes quite suddenly, sitting up now and moving closer to the Ravenclaw girl. "Now you're misinterpreting what I said. You asked me why I held your hand… that doesn't mean it's the only reason I came here with you," He says, watching her put her hair down. A bit of a smile drifts on to his lips, and he tilts his head to one side. Then, with as little forethought as he'd given the action earlier, he reaches out and takes the hand she's not using to hold her drink in his. "That looks better." For a moment he turns his attention from her to drink the Butterbeer in silence, before suddenly setting it down and smirking. "All right. I've thought of my condition to answering your second question, then." Releasing her hand, he brings his own up and brushes his bangs aside once more, this time tucking them behind an ear to keep them from straying in front of his face. "A date, next Hogsmeade weekend."

Elizabeth lightly lifts a brow at him, "You had stated that you brought me here to 'pull me away from books', to use your words. The reasoning behind arriving here and holding my hand as we traveled could very well be two different reasons, though the thought that there was more than one reason to coming here never crossed my mind until now." she watches him with light skepticism, though it soon fades from her expression. Her eyes glance through her glasses down at her hand as he takes it, the side of his hand resting partly against her lap as his fingers hold hers. Liz blinks at it for a moment, uncertain as she looks back up at his eyes, a quiet moment passing, "Your mood has shifted…" she observes out loud, only to frown again as she compliments her hair being down, giving the hair that is over her shoulder an odd look. "I never have liked my braids messed up, and leaving it loose requires more attention than I like to care to give on such a physical attribute." The Ravenclaw girl answers him as he thinks quietly to himself. When he sets it down on the table, Elizabeth glances up at him, unsure what he would say next. She blinks at he states of coming to a decision, giving him an odd look as he pulls his hand from hers to sweep his fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his face. Her full lips part slightly, followed by a light frown before a brow lifts, "A date is a significantly larger price compared to a kiss. Besides, do you think I am so eager to find why you think I have a facade that I will accept any price you offer?" Her eyes narrow at him, thinking for a moment. "If I accept, I want to set a couple of parameters to even the price so that it is acceptable by both parties."

Crane listens to her reason things out patiently, but eventually he merely sits back and shakes his head. "Or you're just over-examining everything," He suggests with a sigh. His Butterbeer is picked up once more, but it's almost gone by now, and after rethinking the matter he sets it back down and pushes it away. Lukewarm, the stuff doesn't taste nearly as good. His expression becomes slightly cooler when she verbally examines his second deal, and he scooches his chair away from her - enough to give him room to set his feet on a separate seat and lean back, his hands settling on his chest. "Actually, you're right. It /is/ a significantly larger price, so - since we're merely negotiating, I'll take another kiss. A kiss is physically enjoyable, but I'm not particularly interested in a date if the desire's not mutual." Waving a hand dismissively, he closes his eyes for a moment. "Anyway - go ahead and name your additional conditions. Not that I'm necessarily likely to agree to them, but I'm curious."

Elizabeth presses her lips together slightly, also never having considered that she may over-exanimate everything in order to understand better. She glances to his chair as it sides slightly, allowing him to stretch a bit better as he leans back in his chair. Frowning slightly as she listens, his eyes close and he waves a hand, as if dismissing a topic altogether. Lifting a brow, she glances to her own mug, the Butterbeer almost gone as she releases a slow breath, reaching up to set her mug next to his on the table. "No sarcasm, no belittling." she answers easily. "I like you better when you are honest." she shrugs a shoulder. "And I did not say no. I only stated out loud my observation of the significant difference a date is compared to a kiss. It /is/ part of negotiations to offer alternative parameters that both parties can agree upon. Compromise."

The Slytherin boy remains quite still, listening to what she has to say and then, slowly, opening his eyes. "All right," He says, smirking just a bit once more - although he speaks without the chilly undertones he had a moment ago, now. "Name your parameters, then." He pronounces that word carefully, obviously not being exceptionally familiar with it - not that he doesn't understand it, but it's certainly not something he's heard used in common speech very often. He sets his feet back on the floor, sitting up a little - although his posture could still hardly be called 'proper'. "Then again, doesn't a first date usually come /before/ a first kiss? At least, that seems to be the common trope, not that I really pay attention to such things. So we apparently are moving in backwards order, here."

Elizabeth narrows her eyes at him slightly, seeing that he had clearly misunderstood her. "I just did." she says a bit flatly, her brow furrowing slightly with a gentle frown as she purses her lips together for a moment. Pulling her eyes from his, she looks to their empty Butterbeer mugs. "During the date, if we both agree to the terms, I do not want you to be sarcastic or belittling. You can smirk and joke around all you want; I just do not want you being negative. It is rather undesirable." Releasing a breath, she just shrugs a shoulder in indifference. "The modern courting customs are from the first date to the first kiss, continuing on in several more dates as time progresses, either ending with the result of separation or lifelong commitment. Yes, we started off backwards I suppose, though there was reasoning behind it. Reason being: I am far too curious for my own good." She almost sighs again. Almost.

That request seems to have caught Crane off guard; he'd obviously thought she was just making some off-handed comment about his behavior, not actually asking he not be sarcastic. He stares at her for a good long while, clearly on the fence about the matter. "Then I decline," He finally says, the reply both stubborn and… perhaps somewhat amused, in an almost-offended way. "If you want to go on a date with Prince Charming, go find a Gryffindor, I suppose. Belittling I suppose I could do, but sarcasm is…" With a light shrug, he matches her gaze and smirks. "…me. After all, would /you/ agree if I asked you to stop talking the way you do and be more like…" He glances around the inn, finds a Hufflepuff girl who is in the process of giggling excitedly to her friends, and raises a single digit to point at her. "That?"

Elizabeth arches a skeptical brow as she glances over at the Hufflepuff girls, watching them for a moment as they erupt with giggles as a few Gryffindor boys grin and talk to them casually. She ponders for a moment passively before her sky blue eyes shift back to Crane, lifting a brow again. "I think it depends on if you like giggling buffoons. Giggling I could accomplish I think, though the buffoon part would be a bit more difficult." The corner of her full lips barely tugs, clearly her attempt at a joke again. "And Prince Charming is a fictional character and unrealistic ideals of a perfect man. No one is perfect. Nor would I ask something of you that you could not part with." She lightly presses her lips together, "Would you consider no negativity in this case? Or perhaps-" Liz frowns in thought, glancing over her shoulder as she ponders to herself, murmuring, "Hm, maybe a place with solitude then…"

The Ravenclaw girl's description of the Hufflepuff makes Crane snicker despite the fact that he's trying to convey seriousness at the moment. "Okay." He taps a finger on his chin thoughtfully and nods once. "No negativity. You'll have to cut me a little slack, though, as I'm used to… speaking my mind," He says, sounding a little apologetic as he does. It occurs to him that Madam Rosmerta will probably want to be paid for the drinks, so he fishes about in the pocket of the slacks he's wearing until he manages to find an appropriate amount of change, which he sets on the table - it's enough to cover both the drinks, of course. "So, that leaves me to explain my 'facade' comment, then. Originally I'd thought you were purposefully trying to seem… cold and scientific," He says, frowning a little as he does. "But the more I talk to you the more I think I was mistaken, and that's just how you communicate."

Elizabeth lightly lifts a brow at Crane for a quiet moment, the corner of her full lips barely tugging as she shrugs a shoulder. "Speak your mind. I do, though most of the time I get blank looks or somehow end up scaring others into fleeing." She purses her lips lightly to give the empty Butterbeer glasses a skeptical glance. "My own housemates as well. Very strange…" she murmurs to herself, "I should probably investigate further into that…" Liz releases a slow breath as she leans back into her chair, her sky blue eyes looking back up to his own icy blue orbs. After a moment, her expression softens, giving him a light, genuine smile for the first time. "I," she purses her lips, shifting her thoughts as she starts again with another topic, "Do you want to do something in particular on our date? Besides reliving the moment of our collision I mean, that was a rather painful and unpleasant incident."

Crane looks as if he's on the verge of saying something, but decides at the last moment not to. "Perhaps it's because sometimes you're a little /too/ straightforward. People aren't used to that," He suggests, obviously using some measure of self-restraint when he does. Whatever he'd been about to say, it's probably safe to bet it had been sarcasm-laced. When she smiles, he watches her for a moment without saying anything, and then lets his gaze settle blankly on the table for a time. "Frankly, I hadn't thought that far ahead. We could…" He spends a few minutes thinking, and then frowns, the corners of his pale lips curling down in annoyance. Come to think of it, there's very little to do in Hogsmeade. "On second thought, perhaps we should consider the school instead. We could attend a Quidditch game together. Or," He continues quickly, probably wisely suspecting that she isn't much of a sports person. "Have a picnic of sorts by the lake. Unless you're really set on Hogsmeade… there's always Puddifoot's." This last suggestion is obviously a joke, and he smirks.

Elizabeth lightly lifts a brow, giving the suggestion only a moment's thought before shrugging a shoulder, "It could be, though it is the norm for people to be uncomfortable around what is strange and unusual to them. Muggles act the same way with magic, I have been told. But that could have very well have been the sole opinion of one person, so it is difficult to determine on just one account." Her eyes watch him for a moment before pressing her lips together, frowning just slightly in confusion at herself. When Crane speaks again, she blinks, looking back up at him. "Oh. Quidditch. If I recall the Professor Dumbledore spoke that there would be no Quidditch games this year because of the Triwizard Tournament. I am not sure if there are any games that will be occurring next Hogsmeade weekend if that is the case." Liz tries to offer. "Though, there are a couple of weeks until then, so there is no particular need for haste. I was just curious," At the suggestion of Puddifoot's, she blinks, certainly caught off guard by that for a moment before the corner of her lips tugs, a brow lifting. "So you really /do/ fancy the giggling buffoon then."

"Ah… that's right," Crane says somewhat lamentably, his lips curling down even further as he remembers the announcement. "Go figure, I've never been much of a Quidditch buff, and the one time I think the bloody sport might be useful… I suppose I'll just have to figure something out later, then." He rolls his eyes at himself and snickers, then pushes his chair back from the edge of the little table and stands slowly. "It's probably getting pretty close to being time to get back to the school," He says, not sounding particularly eager to leave, but other students seem to be doing just that. The Hufflepuff girl is given another glance, and he smirks wryly. "Can't deny that type doesn't have its uses, but… some of the creatures Hagrid raises are better conversationalists." He laughs quietly to himself, and extends his hand - this time offering it to her rather than simply taking hers. "Well. Shall we?"

Elizabeth gives the front door of Three Broomsticks a brief glance, watching some of the other students leave excitedly, though not without another Hufflepuff girl bursting into giggles as a boy wags his eyebrows at her. She lifts a brow as she looks back to him, his hand extended to her. With a soft exhale, she reaches for her deep blue ribbon, pulling it between her slender neck and her long raven waves as she wraps the ribbon around it into a bow, holding it out of her face for now. After adjusting her scarf over her shoulder again, Liz reaches up to take his hand, standing to her feet as she gives him a sideways glance, "Certainly, so long as we do not follow too closely to those ahead of us. I do not want to catch watch that girl has." the corner of her lips barely tugs.

Crane, too, stops to observe the other students going about their business, sniggering softly to himself at the sight of the boy's flirting. He takes the Ravenclaw's hand when she stands and starts in the direction of the door slowly, turning to give her a surprised stare at her remark. "And I thought you were asking /me/ not to be so sarcastic," He says, winking one icy blue eye at her and then devoting his attention to navigating through the densely packed tables. No need to run into anyone or anything else this evening. "I think you may have caught what /I/ have instead, Elizabeth. And by the way, I hope you know I'm going to come up with something to call you besides Elizabeth. It sounds so…" He narrows his eyes in thought and purses his lips distastefully. "…proper."

Elizabeth lifts a brow as she gives him a sideways glance, "If you remember correctly, those were parameters that was set for the date in order to make your price more reasonable, considering." She pauses for a moment, turning to face him as her free hand reaches up to lightly tap the tip of her index finger on his nose. "And you also said that you there was not a way that you could be anything but sarcastic, which I allowed in our compromising." Liz lifts a brow at him for a moment, the smile barely hinting at her lips as she shrugs a shoulder. "Hm. I suppose if I caught an illness from you then, I will have to re-evaluate the kissing concept in the future. A pity. It was a rather interesting experience." she answers passively. Turning, they continue their way through the front door of Three Broomsticks, the crowd of students some ways ahead of them now. At the mention of a nickname, she ponders for a moment. "Hm, very well. I will just have to do a quick research to discover your first name."

Hogsmeade, High Street

This is High Street, the main thoroughfare of Hogsmeade, lined to either side with interesting shops. The post office is to one side, near Gladrags Wizardwear, with all manner of owls waiting patiently on their perches outside and hundreds more within. A few storefronts down from the post office is Zonko's Joke Shop. Clouds of colored smoke billow forth from its doors with regularity, occasionally accompanied by loud explosions, and loads of laughter. On the other side of the road is a tiny inn with a wooden sign hung over its entry that reads "Three Broomsticks". A window in the inn's front show's a crowded room with lots of tables. In addition to all the stores, several roads converge here. Two of them look well-traveled, signs proclaiming them to lead to Hogsmeade Station or towards the wrought iron gates of Hogwarts. Up ahead, however, one narrow lane doesn't seem to get much use, grass sprouting in the middle of its path. Farther still, down past Dervish and Banges, another winding track leads off into the wild countryside surrounding the village, towards the rocky foothills of the mountain in whose shadow Hogsmeade lays.

"No, I remember. I was being…" Sarcastic. Crane doesn't bother to finish his sentence, instead merely smirking a little to himself as she taps him on the nose. His gaze flits over to meet hers for an instant, and his shoulders lift in a light shrug. "Well… if you really feel that's necessary, I suppose you'll do what you have to. Although one would think that after your first time, you'd want further testing of the subject," He derides impishly, slipping through the door next to her and stretching a bit once they get into the cooler air outside. At her threat, he turns to her and frowns contemplatively. "For all intents and purposes, Crane is my name. If you really want to know the ridiculous forename my parents gave me…"

Elizabeth gives him a sideways glance as his sentence falters, a brow lifting to further hint at her amusement, though she doesn't comment any further on it. As they walk through the door, the raven-haired girl subtly glances over her shoulder at him for a brief moment before returning to the steps in front of them, taking them down before reaching the road itself to start the walk back to Hogwarts. "Hm, this is true. Though in order to get accurate data in the experimental process of kissing, one also must gather data from a wide range of subjects. This insures that all data gathered is accurate in supporting the findings of the conducted experiment. However…" she says the word slowly. "I would think that kissing a wide range of boys would be socially, emotionally, and morally unacceptable." Liz shrugs a shoulder as they continue side by side. At the mention of his name, she gives him a sideways glance, some of her amusement at his reaction showing as the corner of her full lips tugs. "I do not /need/ to know at this point in time. You can divulge it to me whenever you are comfortable, if you do. However, if you must call me by a shorter name, I think Liz might be acceptable."

Crane arches a brow slightly at her description of making the experiment more 'accurate', although he doesn't add anything. He wouldn't exactly be telling the truth if he said he /hadn't/ kissed lots of girls, for one thing. "I see," Is his succinct reply, punctuated by his lips quirking up at one corner into a sort of half-grin. He doesn't seem to mind the curious stares they're probably getting from other students who are also in the process of walking back to the school grounds, ignoring them with the sort of cool disinterest that he typically displays towards anyone who he /isn't/ devoting his immediate attention to. "It's Gavin," The Slytherin relinquishes slowly, scowling a little at having to utter the moniker aloud. "But I'm instituting a rule here and now that each time you call me /that/, you owe me another kiss. Non-negotiable, I'm afraid."

If there are stares from other students, Elizabeth hadn't noticed, or didn't think it was important enough to pay attention to. When he gives her his name, her expression remains passive, quiet for a moment as she lowers her chin in understanding. "Agreed then." she answers, though is silent after as they continue to walk hand in hand up the path to the castle of Hogwarts itself. "Gavin." The Ravenclaw girl utters the name, controlled enough that the other students wouldn't catch the name. A moment passes, giving him a sideways glance. "I like your first name."

There's a slight twinge in Crane's facial features as the Ravenclaw girl repeats his name; after a few seconds he reaches out with his free hand and sets it on her waist to stop her, then leans over and quickly presses his lips to hers. It's quite brief (if rather more fierce than the first one), and then he steps away and begins moving forward again, paying no heed to the whispers and giggles from other students that ensue. "I may have to consider imposing a slightly harsher punishment, in that case."

Elizabeth blinks with some surprise as his other hand comes to reach around her waist, stopping her easily as he leans down to brush his lips against hers, firmer and quicker than the last before he break the kiss and continues forward again. His hand tugs on her for a moment as her surprised expression shifts darker for a moment, pulling her to walk with him once again as others start to whisper and giggle. She releases a sigh, shaking her head. "You said, and I quote: you owe me another kiss. To owe mean that I am in obligated to you for that one kiss, repaid at any time." she lifts a brow. "You did not set any guidelines to when reimbursement must be compensated. You really must be clearer when issuing regulations in regards to your first name." Liz tilts her head enough to give him a skeptical glance, doubtful of his words. "'Punishment', hm? You think there is a harsher punishment than your original?"

"If you go into debt with Gringott's they don't /ask/ to repossess your house. They just take it," Crane drawls. He continues slowly up the path to the school as it begins to climb more steeply uphill, glancing up at the looming fortifications of the castle that are fast approaching them. "I'm merely operating on the same principle." After that, he remains silent for the most part, although at her question he snickers quietly to himself. "We'll see."

"That does not mean that they will not allow payment plans to eventually pay off one's debt." Elizabeth rolls her eyes, shaking her head as the path grows steadily steeper, the lights of the castle glowing with the murmur of students and teachers that inhabit it. She gives him another skeptical sideways glance as they approach the Great Hall, "Hm. Then there isn't then." Once they are inside, the warmth envelopes them from the cool October air. She pulls her hand from his, though turns to face him, "Next Hogsmeade Friday then. Meet here after class?"

Ignoring that line of argument, Crane stops to consider briefly before nodding. "Next Friday. See you then," He says, winking one blue eye at her before turning on his heel to start off in the direction of the dungeons. Dodging other students who are on their way to their individual common rooms and hang-out spots, he slips down the torchlit stairway and disappears from sight.

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