Some Of Them Want To Use You [Closed // Damien]

[Juliet Delia]

A sharp, resounding "CRACK" rang through the dirty, dark streets of Drear Alley. Juliet stopped momentarily, ensuring that the hood of her scarlet cloak still hid her identity. It had been a long time since she'd Apparated that far; not since the after this Minister's ball nearly 3 years before. She could not have cared less if someone had known it was her on any other day. She'd been gone from Austria for so long that most people probably wouldn't know it was her anyways. However, today her business is Drear Alley was to be conducted with the utmost care and secrecy; siren tears and acromantula venom weren't easy to find, and many knew that the potions they were used in were not for those with the best of intentions. Juliet tucked her hair away and pulled the hood further over her head to darken her face. Today was not the day to take unnecessary risks.

It had been almost 3 years since she had left Austria for Australia. Any plans she'd had for anything before she left had almost certainly been obliterated. She had seen it in her best interests at the time to get the hell away from everything, before something had happened to her. Both sides had worked missions. People went missing. People died. The screaming still haunted her on a regular basis. The thought of having everything that she loved taken away from her had terrified her, and so she did the only thing she could think of to save herself from that pain: she said goodbye, and left.

It had absolutely destroyed her to leave. The home she had left was truly in shambles at the time. Cen was in a coma, or something akin to it, Josh was laying low and taking care of Cen. And Damien had been.... Damien. The thought of that boy still plunged knives into her heart. It never had been clear exactly what they were to each other. All Juliet knew was that he had mattered to her. And now, she didn't even know who was alive and who wasn't.

Her time in Australia had been spent furthering her knowledge of all things potions. She studied under several potions masters while away, learning everything she could, and then disappearing without a trace. Juliet had been obsessive in her learning. She learned both sides of the potions world; she now had the ability to heal and destroy. And when she had finally become satisfied that she had learned all that she could while away, she made the decision to return home. It was not in her nature to give up on anything without a fight.

Which brought her to Drear Alley. Before returning home, she was adamant that she needed to create a proper stock for her potion making. Many of the ingredients she needed were hidden away in her bag, but she dared not to travel with ingredients like acromantula venom and siren tears. To be caught with those on your person while traveling long distance was to be asking for trouble. However, they were a necessary part of her stock, and so where better to make a sketchy Black Market deal?

She met with her contact behind one of the bars, trading him two Galleons worth of polyjuice and vertiaserum potions. Her items of purchase were certainly worth much more than that, but when she had suggested that she might accidentally slip some deadly nightshade into the polyjuice potion she was making for him, her contact was all too happy to acquiesce to her request.

Juliet walked back out onto the dirty main street of Drear Alley, looking for a safe, inconspicuous place to Apparate home from. She was all too curious what awaited her now that she had returned home. She wandered down the street, considering carefully what to do next.

[Damien Monroe]

He was hungover. That, attributed to the fact that a folded up sheet of paper was in his right pocket, was paving the way for a very bad day indeed. The top of his head felt like needles kept sticking into him. Every time he raised his hand to remove them he remembered that they were not actually there.
Of all days this would be the one Darren would decide to select him for his top secret mission. “But why can’t it be Moswen?” he had whined after being called for. “You know she loves doing these little things for you. She’s much better than it than I am anyway. Hell, you know she’d sit by your chair and fan you with one of those big palm tree branches if you asked her too.” It had been funny to Damien at the time considering Isis was Egyptian and her people were infamous for being slaves to the royals. Hieroglyphics he had seen before even showed the bastards on their hands and knees doing just that. Isis unfortunately did not find that funny. Before allowing Darren time to reconsider, her eyes had changed to that scary werewolf shade and she began growling. Normally, Damien would find a hot woman growling at him to be appealing. Isis’ growls were never of that nature. They were more along the lines of If-Darren-wasn’t-here-I’d-probably-claw-your-insides-out. Seeing what she could do in the midst of battle was enough proof to just leave the wench be.

So he had drudgingly accepted Darren’s task. What was written in the contents of the sheet was beyond him. All Damien had been told was to go to Drear Alley, find the wizard with one arm and the long scar that ran diagonally across his face, and give him the paper. From there, he was unsure of what was supposed to happen, but had no choice other than to play along until he was given some sign of his next path of action. All this serious stuff was of no interest to Damien. He would have much rather been partying, drinking his beloved sherry and celebrating good times with a platter full of éclairs with his best mates then playing errand boy for the Dark Lord. Since all of the wankers had appeared to have fallen off the face of the Earth though, he was stuck. Damien didn’t need friends to have a good time. As he had proved time and time again he was perfectly capable of entertaining himself. That was much harder to do when the Dark Lord looked to you as an aid.

Due to the absence of nearly everyone in his life and in the DeathEater group, he had found himself Darren’s errand boy for awhile now. Every time he had been called it was Monroe this Monroe that. Monroe go to London because my legs hurt. Monroe go out hunting with Isis. Monroe, I can’t have alcoholics as followers. The Dark Lord had a ridiculous amount of expectations to live up to. If it hadn’t been for his former friends’ departure, Damien was sure he would have never been given the responsibility that Darren expected of him. Mostly because Damien would never give himself responsibilities. Who in their right mind would trust a womanizer who drank every night? “Not me,” he said, pouting to himself as he left Darren’s office with the note in his pocket. Maybe the reason for Darren’s inactivity had been due to secretly losing his mind.

He found himself on Drear Alley, fitting in with every foul smelling witch and wizard that passed him. Well, except for the smelling part. He had been forced to wear a dark hood to hide his features. Damien had to suppress a laugh at Darren’s request. Every damn witch and wizard in this country knew Damien Monroe’s name. He was sure he had partied with all of them at some point anyway. Perhaps due in great part to his arrogance Damien was sure that he would be recognized by someone during his journey. He was not one to be so easily forgotten. So far he had been successful, but the day was still young. Actually, he was quite tempted to lower the hood and just walk around in circles seeing how long it would take for someone to shout his name. Then he’d be able to stick it to Darren that he was not the best for carrying secret messages.

Damien began walking the long winding street in search of the mysterious wizard. He was tempted to just start yelling, “Yoohoo! Wizards with scars on their faces!” but the thought of what might come to greet him was enough to push the idea from his mind. He wasn’t about to let his stunning face be butchered out of jealousy from those not as good looking. Damien had been walking for what felt like an hour when a familiar face appeared out of nowhere. He had to blink twice to make sure his eyes weren’t fooling him, but upon discovering that after the second blink the face was still there he was sure of it. A grin spread across his face as he made his way through the crowd and to the cute face. “Hey there cupcake,” he greeted the diminutive girl, “fancy seeing you around these parts.”

[Juliet Delia]

Juliet kept her pace as she strode down the street. You truly could find all manner of witch and wizard in Drear Alley. Some people looked as if they downright belonged in the place -- dirty, tattered robes, crooked teeth, and scarred like they had somehow managed to get into a fight, with a Norwegian Ridgeback, lost, but somehow managed to live to tell the tale. Other people clearly did not belong in Drear Alley, regardless of their attempts to blend in with the common folk. If Juliet had learned one thing in the world of Black Market trading and sketchy dark alleys, it was this: don't try to blend in, just don't draw any attention to yourself. No attention drawn means no blood drawn. Everyone goes home happy.

She patted the tiny bag that held her prized items in her pocket from the day. Juliet was quite pleased that she had managed to get her hands on these items with little to no trouble at all. That could be considered a good thing or a bad thing, depending on which way one decided to look at it. Good thing: she had the ingredients she needed, and a source that she could go back to. Bad thing: was the deal almost too easy, and was he really trustworthy? Juliet shook her head and ignored the thoughts. She had what she needed, and that was it. She could deal with other problems if and when the time came, and that was that.

Slipping into a small alley between two shops, Juliet pulled the bag out of her cloak and emptied the contents into her hands. Two vials the length of her hand fell into her waiting palm. The siren tears were clear, as tears often are, but emitted a faint blue glow. They were used in various potions, most of them nasty ones. They could be used to cause intense despair in the drinker, often as a result of the belief that they had been scorned, or were in unrequited love. The acromantula venom, on the other hand, was a nasty green colour, and was rather thick in consistency. On its own, it was a potent and but slow-acting poison. In combination with other ingredients, one could cause any number of unimaginable agonies before it finally caused death. Unpleasant ingredients? Yes. But useful? Infinitely.

Juliet dropped the two vials back into the bag before tucking it back into her cloak. She pulled the hood back over her head and walked back onto the cobblestones of the alley roads. After a few blocks, she had gotten away from the majority of the hustle and bustle of Drear Alley. The court she now stood in was inhabited by maybe 20 witches and wizards. A much more reasonable place to Apparate home from. Juliet moved off to the side and began to relax herself. She had passed her Apparating test with ease, but with all the things on her mind, the last thing she wanted to have to experience was splinching herself.

Suddenly, a familiar voice made its way to her ears. “Hey there cupcake, fancy seeing you around these parts.” Juliet looked up, and her mouth dropped wide open. She could not believe who she was seeing. "Damien bloody Monroe!" she squeaked, trying very hard to keep her surprise and delight under control. It was so nice to finally see someone she knew. A friendly face was especially welcome, considering where she was.

Juliet threw her arms around his neck, unable to contain her excitement. She pressed her lips to his cheek before drawing back and looking him up and down. "You, sir," she drawled with a grin, "have not changed in the very slightest." She looked around the court warily before grabbing his hand and dragging him into a nearby dingy tea shop. The old witch at the counter looked up momentarily at the pair, looked them up and down, and then walked into the back room. The door that closed behind her thumped noisily against the wooden frame. And then they were alone.

Pulling out her wand, Juliet pointing it at a set of rather dusty armchairs. "Scourgify, tergio," she muttered. The dingy armchairs were suddenly transformed, clean and like new. She took a seat, pulling back her hood and fixing her hair. "So, how have you been, darling? It's been..." Juliet stopped, pursing her lips before looking up at Damien with a small smile. "Well, it's been a while."


][ Sorry about the wait, duckling. I had an exam that was eating my soul the last few days. ][

[Damien Monroe]

[ Don’t worry about it. This one is crap so let's pretend this has never happened.]

Damien dug his hands into his pockets and grinned sheepishly as the girl reacted to his arrival. Exactly how he had expected. Then again, all of their reactions for normally the same. It was just the effect he had on women. Years had passed but change he did not. From everyone’s departures to arrivals, Damien and his egocentric nature were still as dominant as ever. He also still loved his sherry and he still loved his éclairs. And somehow, he always managed to get females to get them for him. The image of a platter full of éclairs in front of him suddenly appeared as a mirage at the side of Juliet. He could feel his stomach rumbling. How long had it been since he last ate? He was pretty sure it had been longer than an hour. Damien’s eyes quickly looked around him. Was there any place in this blasted alley to get some damn food?

The effect éclairs had on him was outstanding. So much in fact that if it hadn’t been for Juliet’s arms wrapping around him, he probably would have forgotten that she was even there. The feel of her lips against his cheek brought him even more so to reality. “Now that’s a greeting,” he complimented as she retracted from him. ”You sir, have not changed in the very slightest.” Damien shrugged his shoulders. “The only out of many I suppose. Did you really think you’d come back and find me in one of those damn business suits? Don’t get me wrong, I’d look smoking in one of them, but that’s not my style.” He shifted his weight to one leg causing the edge of the note to poke him. Damien groaned. This stupid errand was going to be the death of him. Maybe he could convince Juliet to do it. She didn’t have to know what it was or who it was for. If he promised her some smooching time later there would be no way she could say no.

He didn’t get the chance to ask. Her hand grabbed his and she began pulling. “Hold up love! If you want to make out all you have to do is ask! You know I’m game!” She ignored him. Wherever it was that she was taking him Juliet was set in her ways. Her grip on his hand was so tight that he couldn’t escape if he wanted to. Not that he minded. If he was going anywhere he’d rather be stuck with Juliet. She continued to pull him until she reached the front door of a tea shop. “Oh what?” he complained, trying to weigh himself down to the ground. It was to no avail. That petite little witch dragged him in. Damien smirked at the old hag watching the counter, but his charm did not have any effect on her. He wasn’t too devastated. If his charm worked on anyone it was going to be the girl who had brought him here.

Damien took a seat as Juliet cleaned off a set of armchairs for them. “Thanks for that,” he said gratefully, “I didn’t want whatever was on there to stain my pants.” He shimmied around until he got himself comfortable which was considerably difficult given the amount of wear and tear on the things. The chairs must have been at least a hundred years old. “So, how have you been darling? It’s been…Well, it’s been awhile.” That was an understatement. The last time he had seen Juliet Delia had been years ago. He hadn’t even known she was gone until he had gone to her estate one day and noticed everything locked up. Damien had banged on the windows for about thirty minutes before giving up. He returned to her estate several times in the weeks after but endured the same results. She had just left. The two had only begun knowing each other before she had left so her departure had been disappointing.

“I’ve been the same. I’ve been drinking, eating, partying, drinking some more, eating some more, partying some more and…well you get the picture.” His life may have sounded sad to some, but to Damien it was the perfect way to spend one’s time. It was doubtful if he’d ever really grow up. He leaned forward in his chair and propped his elbows on his knees. “But you my dear,” he started, putting his hands into another “where have YOU been?”

[Juliet Delia]

][ Squeezing in a post during my mini-hiatus. Need a break from life! ][

"Now that's a greeting!" The smirk on Damien's face was one that only he was capable of producing. The spacey look in his eyes positively screamed "My ego rarely fits through regularly sized doorways". The man was convinced of his ability to woo the ladies, and in a lot of ways, she had to agree. There was no one who knew his name that didn't know about his conquests in sampling the finest of the female species. Being able to woo women with a mere chuckle was practically part of his job description. Juliet chuckled under her breath as she grinned and looked up at the man before her from beneath her lashes. Only a few years before, she had been one of those women, positively dazzled gaga by his charms, good looks, and his, well... particular set of bedroom-based skills. Time had changed her, and although she would not consider herself naive enough for Damien to render her a giggling, blushing mess, the man was still a hot piece of ass, and she knew that buried beneath that massive ego of his was a sweet and even affectionate young man, and she would do terrible, terrible things to him.

“The only out of many I suppose. Did you really think you’d come back and find me in one of those damn business suits? Don’t get me wrong, I’d look smoking in one of them, but that’s not my style.” Juliet laughed, a toothy, sly grin spreading across her lips. "Well if I remember right, you do look scrumptious when you get cleaned up." She bit the corner of her lip as her eyes traveled over Damien's body again. She'd bet her entire fortune that all the sherry and eclairs had not done any damage to the body she remembered. Juliet cocked an eyebrow as she smirked, "I do recall having explicit plans to eat you up after the Minister's Ball a few years ago..." Suggestive? Yes. Did she care? Not a bit. Being in Australia alone had been a growing experience for her. More than anything, she realized that life was far too short to do anything but enjoy it. And at this moment, Merlin was she enjoying it.

As Juliet dragged Damien towards the tea shop, she rolled her eyes at him. “Hold up love! If you want to make out all you have to do is ask! You know I’m game!” There were many ways she could have replied, but she knew that it was in everyone's best interest that she simply ignored the comment. Cheeky bugger.

Juliet settled into her seat. For being as old as her, in the very least, the chair was delightfully comfortable. Much nicer than what she had become accustomed to in the last few years. She grinned as Damien vaguely describe his life over the last few years. Exactly as she had imagined him living. The boy had never been the type to, well, do anything but that. He lived life for the fun of it. She had only seen his serious side once in the short time that she had known him. It definitely existed, although it was definitely buried under everything else that made Damien Monroe who he was. She casually flicked her wand while listening intently. A tray with two cups, a teapot, and a small bottle of sherry floated over, and she absently poured the tea into the cups. Only a small amount of sherry was poured into her own cup before she looked up at Damien. "One shot or two?"

She sipped her tea, the warmth of the liquid and the alcohol running through her entire body. For a creepy little teashop in one of the sketchiest parts of Drear Alley, the tea wasn't half bad. She choked, however, as Damien posed his question to her, "But you my dear, where have YOU been?” Topics that are unavoidable and mildly awkward include...

"Australia, believe it or not," she said with a small smile. "I went a little bonkers with studying potions while I was away, and after learning as much as I could about, well, basically everything I could, I ended up back at home." The vials in Juliet's cloak clanked together softly as she shifted in her seat. It was probably best to leave those things out of the conversation, as well as her massive home stockpile, unless it was brought up. "I'm actually working at St. Everdine's as a Healer, right now. Just started."

[Damien Monroe]

The thing that Damien loved the most about meeting with girls is that they always catered to him. Whether it was his ego or by magically making a bottle of sherry appear out of thin air, he loved it. His selfishness always came into the picture though. It was nice enough that the ladies bestowed such gifts upon him, but his addiction to sherry caused him to be greedy. If people didn’t understand that by now, then that was their own fault. He chose not to say anything to Juliet though. He hadn’t seen her in so long that he didn’t want to ruin their reunion by rudely telling her to give him the bottle. Holding up two fingers, Damien wiggled them at her. “You should know better than to ask me silly questions like that,” he said, watching her as she tilted the bottle a little more into the tea mug. “You can keep going if you’d like.” Inclining his head in appreciation, he took the mug from her once she finished. He brought the mug to his nose and moved it around, taking in the aroma of the sherry mixed with the tea leaves. Damien had never drunk tea with sherry in it before, but now seemed a better time than any to start. Besides, he doubted that anything mixed with sherry would be terrible. Sherry was the nectar of the gods. It couldn’t spoil anything.

He lowered the mug down to his lips and took a long sip from it. As he expected, perfection. Damien closed his eyes and lean his head back, allowing the flavor to sink in as it flowed down the back of his throat. “Brilliant,” he told her. “You keep this up kitten and I might reward you for introducing me to new things.” Looking at her, he threw her a wink. The last rendezvous the two had found themselves in had been years ago, but he had remembered what a devil she was in between the sheets. A smirk appeared on his face as he recalled their last meeting. He loved girls who played innocent but then unleashed their inner freak behind closed doors. Juliet had been one. Damien had been pleasantly surprised as soon as he had seen what was waiting for him underneath that towel. His eyes roamed her petite figure. Nothing had changed which was good. Damien didn’t like change. He contemplated bringing her back to his room at the Dragon Scales Inn after taking care of business here. He didn’t think she’d refuse the offer. It was hard to not grab her and just apparate to Somerset, but he forced himself to be patient. Juliet was one of the few girls he actually had respect for. He didn’t want her to think he only cared about one thing after not seeing her for so long. He owed that much to her.

He settled back into his chair and crossed one leg over his knee as he listened to Juliet. His face showed his surprise when she told him he had been to Australian. Damien loved Australian women. They had such cute accents that sounded even better when they were moaning his name. “I can tell. You’ve got the color to prove it. Then again, maybe you mixed up one of those new potions you’re talking about to do it, eh?” Her potion-making was intriguing because he couldn’t understand why a witch as attractive as her would spend her time behind a cauldron instead of doing anything else. Also, why she felt the need to do it overseas instead of here. “What’d you head out there for?” he asked her, taking another drink from his mug. “Why couldn’t you just stay here and do it? Does it really matter what your surroundings are? Potion-making is potion-making, right?” Damien realized his question was probably stupid, but Juliet shouldn’t have expected anything less. If it didn’t involve alcohol, peanut butter and chocolate éclairs or women, he knew nothing about anything.

More dirty thoughts filled his mind when she revealed her new profession. He imagined Juliet in some tight, cute little nurse’s outfit with a stethoscope around her neck. Oh the games that could come from such an outfit. Damien had no problem with playing a patient who needed to get taken care of. Shaking his head to bring himself back to reality he took a long breath and drank over half of the tea left in his mug. “Do they make you wear those nice little nurse outfits?” His curiosity had gotten the best out of him. “Because if they do, I think you should model one of them for me. Just to make sure you look professional of course.” He gave her another wink. “I must tell you Juliet, it’s fantastic that I’ll have my own nurse at my beck and call. No worries though love, I’ll make sure you get paid for your services.” Damien knew he always said too much, but he didn’t care. Girls found his cockiness and smooth-talking attractive. He was just playing to their needs.

[Juliet Delia]

Juliet chuckled to herself as she saw Damien's eyes positively light up at the sight of the sherry bottle on the tea tray. Clearly, like the rest of him thus far, his tastes in alcohol had not changed. Not a particular shock to her; Damien simply didn't seem like the type to change his tastes or habits without a damn good reason to. Stuck in his ways, one might be inclined to say. And considering the man was definitely long past having "bad experiences with alcohol", there was really no reason for him to ever change his love for sherry. It certainly made things very simple for those around him offering alcohol. “You should know better than to ask me silly questions like that, you can keep going if you’d like.” A smirk crept across Juliet's lips as she continued to tip the contents of the bottle into his cup. Not changed in the slightest.

She passed the cup to Damien who seemed to eye the concoction warily before settling on the fact that he couldn't let good sherry go to waste. A snort almost made it past her lips at the look of pure pleasure on Damien's face as he took a sip of his tea. “Brilliant. You keep this up kitten and I might reward you for introducing me to new things.” Juliet lowered her head and shook her head, laughing. She looked up at Damien from under her lashed and grinned. "Once the Ladies Man, always the Ladies Man, I see. You naughty thing, you," she chided playfully, clucking her tongue.

For as long as she had even known his name, she knew that Damien Monroe was most likely the biggest flirt and connoisseur of women on the face of the entire planet. There were rarely times she had seen him where he was not in the process of seducing a lovely witch. Juliet could never truthfully say that he was not attractive. The man was drop-dead gorgeous. Generally speaking, women dropped (to the bed) like flies around him. He was charming and knew how to flatter a woman. Did he have a ego the size of a Hungarian Horntail? Clearly. But did that ego stop any woman he fancied from bedding him? The day it did, Hell would probably freeze over and the Apocalypse would begin. A tease herself, though, she knew that two could play Damien's game.

Even Juliet had fallen for his charm one night, after he had managed to peel himself off of the Trick storage room floor. The following weeks had been almost fiendish, and it had quickly become evident that neither party was satiable. Not that either of them complained once about that fact. Leaving Austria bothered Juliet for a long time; she hadn't even said goodbye, and she hadn't done that because she had grown to be a little attached to the bugger, something she had not anticipated. She had caught glimpses of a softer side of Damien while he stayed at her house, and he had grown on her.

“What’d you head out there for? Why couldn’t you just stay here and do it? Does it really matter what your surroundings are? Potion-making is potion-making, right?” Juliet looked up from her tea and cocked her head to one side, a small smile on her lips. "Miss me, dear?" she teased lightly. She sat back in her chair and pursed her lips. "I suppose I left mostly for some safety," she sighed, taking a sip of her tea. "That was the original reason. Potions just kind of happened once I got there, and I just stuck with it. I didn't want to go back home to Mum and Dad in case something from here followed me home." Juliet drained her mug and put it back on the tray. "It's amazing what you can do with potions when you understand them, though. You'd be stunned."

“Do they make you wear those nice little nurse outfits? Because if they do, I think you should model one of them for me. Just to make sure you look professional of course.” Juliet laughed, flashing a cheeky smile as she shook her head at Damien. He was certainly forward. "I suppose you could describe it as such," she giggled. Her uniform certainly was not the skimpy excuse for clothing Damien had in mind, but at least she still felt like a girl in her clothes. "I must tell you Juliet, it’s fantastic that I’ll have my own nurse at my beck and call. No worries though love, I’ll make sure you get paid for your services.” Juliet wagged a finger at Damien and narrowed her eyes mischievously. "Damien Monroe, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to take me home to bed tonight." He always was a cocky little bugger. Not that she could blame him, either. She'd be cocky too if men were tripping over their feet to get in line for her bed.

"I hope you don't mistake me for an easy lay, darling, or you're mistaking me for someone else. You've got to do a little more work than some smooth talking and flexing your muscles," she purred. Half the fun is in the chase, after all.

[Damien Monroe]

Damien was not usually one to drill a female on her whereabouts. Usually because he didn’t care. As he had made it known time and time again, he saw women as objects to satisfy him. He was chauvinistic, but they still came to him in flocks. The majority of women in his life came and gone so quickly that it wasn’t long for another one to replace them. Yet he was fine with that. He had never been a relationship type of man. Any relationship he did find himself in lasted no more than a few months. Mostly because he was known for being unfaithful, belligerent when his girl was trying to take him home after an alcohol-fueled night of drunken escapades and he simply didn’t like the idea of being tied down. He preferred his reckless lifestyle. The very few women he did consider friends were at least able to keep up with him and had no interest in him besides satisfying their own needs. Damien enjoyed those relationships to the fullest extent. Juliet was one of those females he considered to be one of his friends. He had met her during their school years at Galaxia. She was the most attractive Hufflepuff out of the lot and undeniably the cutest. His suspicions of a demon lying low beneath her innocent exterior had been confirmed sometime after graduation and he had been even more hooked ever since. Plus it helped that she had been inviting enough to let him stay at her house when he had been a wandering soul looking for a couch to sleep on for the night

Memories of La Demeure Delia caused Damien to drink nearly half of the sherry-infested tea from his mug. The topic hadn’t been brought up yet, but he was curious as to how Juliet felt about it. She couldn’t have been too happy about it. That much was a given. It wasn’t everyday that you had your house ransacked by the Ministry in hopes of finding a DeathEater. It had been the only time he had slipped up. Damien had made the mistake of drunkenly engaging a stranger into conversation. He remembered that he had made a joke in reference to the Dark Lord after the attack at the Minister’s masquerade ball. He had been so obliterated that he told the stranger that a DeathEater had been seen prowling outside of the houses of an old magical neighborhood. The stranger had then taken the information to the Ministry and Damien had come home the next night to see the front door busted open, lights on inside of the mansion and several dark figures moving about. He hid behind a bush the entire time watching the events unfold. Juliet had been gracious enough to offer a room in her home to him and he had managed to have the Ministry raid it looking for him. He never returned back to the Mansion after that night, not even to gather the last of his possessions, which he was unsure of whether they remained or not. If they had been taken, Damien had not been notified or arrested by any officials.

He knew that the topic would come up at some point, but decided to refrain from speaking about it until she brought it up. Damien hadn’t even told Darren about his night of stupidity, due in large part to wanting to keep his life. He didn’t know if Juliet knew about his other life and hoped she wouldn’t ask any questions. If she did, he’d have no choice but to tell her considering the damage her house ensued because of him. “Of course I did,” he responded, several minutes later, “you’re one of my favorite girls you know. That should go without saying. You should let me see this art of potion-making up close sometime though to see whether or not it was worth it. Though if you can conjure up a snazzy hangover relief potion then I will probably be convinced on the spot.” It was a rarity for Damien not to involve himself in any point of conversation. He was just that conceited. He finished the last remaining liquid in his mug. Leaning over to her, he gave her his best grin and wink and wiggled the cup in her direction. “Refill? Pretty please?” She should have known the extent of his laziness by now. As she could probably tell, nothing had changed about him since they had last seen each other. Damien considered himself to be a creature of habit. He didn’t like change.

He grinned wider as she called him out on his ulterior motives. That wasn’t the plan, but it would absolutely not be a bad thing at all. “Well not yet doll. I’ve missed you, but not that much.” Damien realized she probably wouldn’t be happy about the teasing, but it was only just that. Besides, he only teased the girls he really liked. “But if you play your cards right, we’ll see what happens.” He was not opposed a bout of bed wrestling. Ever. Wiggling the cup a bit more, he puckered out his bottom lip. “Please Juliet? I’m thirsty.”

[Juliet Delia]

Juliet gazed at Damien in silence, a cheeky smirk on her lips as he sipped at his sherry-infused tea. She wasn't entirely sure if it was that he was actually the type to lose himself in thought, or if it was all the years of heavy drinking that had slowed down his thought process a little, but he certainly looked as though he was deep in thought and considering several somethings. His eyes were fixed in a single point, slightly glazed over, the corners slightly creased in a thoughtful kind of squint. It was mildly endearing. Juliet ticked off the things in her head that he was most likely to be thinking of at the moment: sherry, eclairs, sherry-infused eclairs, women, sex, naked women, naked Juliet... The list rattled on in her head and she smiled. To some people, the list might almost be horrifying, and they'd most likely consider the thinker to be somewhat mildly disturbed, or a teenage boy. In Juliet's opinion, Damien was neither. He was simply a man who enjoyed his life to the fullest, in whatever ways he pleased. Furthermore, she knew that under the carefree, playful, devious exterior was a rather sweet gentleman who knew how to treat a lady. Damien was a good man in her eyes, regardless of what she heard about him from other people. Their time together in her house had taught her that much about him.

Lost in her own thoughts, Juliet jumped at the sound of Damien's voice. "Of course I did, you're one of my favourite girls you know." She flashed him a grin playfully waving her hand in his direction. Juliet batted her eyelashes dramatically and turned her head as if she were shy. "Oh you," she teased, a smirk on her face. "You're going to make me blush." If there was one thing that the two of them had always enjoyed with one another, it was the constant flirtation. The fact that both enjoyed playing coy made it all the more amusing for both parties. She smirked as Damien mentioned a hangover relief potion. A bemused puff of air escaped from her lips and her eyebrows knitted together in a self-indulgent chuckle. "Cake-walk, darling. I've had marathon drinkers awake and being productive members of society during the day after a shot of my hangover cure. You know I'm more than capable of taking care of many things." Her smile was sincere, but her eyes were more than suggestive. Juliet settled back into her chair, her eyes locked with Damien's. After a moment, she lowered her eyes, the smile still on her lips.

A dry gulping sound from Damien signaled that he had finished his drink, and he held his teacup out imploringly. She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms, a smirk sliding over her lips. The smirk deepened as the look on his face became one of a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, the grin on his face almost humourous. “Well not yet doll. I’ve missed you, but not that much.” The smile widened as he alluded to what might happen if she played her cards right. "If that's what you want, then you had better play your cards right, too," she teased, wagging a finger at him. She reached forward as a pout began crossing Damien's lips, her finger snaking through the handle loop of the teacup. She placed the cup back on the tray and began to refill it.

"So what's new with you then?" she asked, her eyes trained on the cup she was filling. "Where have you been staying? I half-expected you to be at the house when I got... back." Her voice trailed off, suddenly remembering the state of her home when she had returned to it. She figured it was best to avoid the subject for the time being, and so she kept her smile on her face, handing Damien the full cup. "I have to say that I missed my own house. Especially my own bed. Nothing is quite like coming home to it."

[Damien Monroe]

(Hope you don’t mind the history. If you do, just let me know and I’ll edit.)

It was no secret that Damien was attracted to females. Although he saw them as nothing else other than his playthings, they always knew the right things to say and do to keep him hooked. Juliet was no different. He remembered the first time he had met her. It had been on the grounds at Galaxia. He had been wooing a group of sixth years when he was a fifth year. He just had that much skill. She had been walking by with arms full of books and he had abandoned his group of ladies much to their dismay to go and help the pretty face who looked ready to fall over. As he had expected, she allowed him to help and the rest was history. She had been shy in the beginning but Damien had been in awe the first time she responded back to one of his innuendos with one of her own. Juliet was feisty, both in and out of the bedroom, and he dug it. The fact that she had always been able to keep up with him was probably why she had high priority on his short list of women he could stand being around longer than five minutes with without necessarily wanting to get into bed with them. He had missed her while she had been gone. That hadn’t been a lie. He could only help that she would be just as ready to make up for lost times as he was.

Her reassurance about a hangover potion made him smile, but not nearly as much as the look she was giving him. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too far-fetched to think that his day would end on a much better note then it started. “Well,” he started, watching as she took the tea cup from him, “we could always put that to the test. Depending on how our little meeting turns out, which I don’t assume will be too terrible of an ending, we can head out to some sleazy bar, have seven or eighteen rounds of shots and then head back to your place. Just so I can get a sample of the potion first thing tomorrow morning of course.” Damien didn’t think she’d say no. Their late nights together spoke for themselves. At the mention of the bar, his right pocket suddenly felt very heavy. The note. Closing his eyes, he groaned. If he had any desire to have any free time with her tonight he had no choice but to make that blasted note a priority. Why Darren continually chose him to run these pointless little errands was beyond him. He knew that if he managed to mess this one up the big man would chew him out for weeks, that or send the hound to come, yell at him and remind how he was the bane to her existence. A chuckle did manage to come from him at the thought of Isis. She hated him so much and could rip him to shreds in an instant, but she was so hot-headed she amused him more than she frightened him. Most of the time anyway.

The sound of tea spilling into his cup brought him back to reality. He was only too ready for that liquor. Hopefully it would take his mind off of the task at hand. Damien would have to find some way to convince Juliet to meet him a bit later on. It probably wouldn’t have been too hard. He had met her in the shadiest of alleys after all. She was sure to have her own agenda that needed to be finished. Mentally, he decided that it would be his best bet. And if she had finished whatever had brought her to Drear this day? Well, he’d have to give her a few galleons and tell her to go shopping until he was ready to come back to her. Girls always enjoyed that sort of thing. Damien waited impatiently for her to finish refilling his cup. He needed his sherry fix. Anything longer than a few minutes made him start getting the shakes.

”So what’s new with you then?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing.” It was the truth. Damien’s lifestyle had not changed in the slightest since her departure. Besides being Darren’s bitch boy, everything had stayed the same. To outsiders, he was sure he must have looked pitiful. Twenty three years old and doing nothing with his life other than drinking and gambling. It worked for him though. If he had lived his life based on people’s opinions of him then he would have been leading a miserable one. He may have been much better off, but he wouldn’t have been true to himself. “I’ve doing nothing extraordinary or notable. I’ve improved my pool game, but that’s been about it,” he continued, feeling his leg start to shake from the lack of sherry. He was pathetic sometimes. "Where have you been staying? I half-expected you to be at the house when I got... back." That question got his leg to stop shaking. Damien’s eyes widened as Juliet finished pouring the last drops of tea into his cup. If only she knew. He cleared his throat nervously, forcing his back to the chair. That was a conversation he wasn’t quite ready to partake in yet. It was best saved for a later time. Also with lots of alcohol. He eagerly grabbed the cup once it was handed to him, spilling a few drops of its content off to the sides. “Sorry, just so good,” he excused, bringing it up to his lips and drinking half of it before responding.

Her comment about her bed brought even more dirty thoughts to his mind. Shaking them away, Damien knew he would have to respond to her question especially now since he had acted like an idiot. He needed to get a grip on his emotions better. “It lost its homey feeling after you left.” It was the truth. The place had felt extremely empty. He didn’t mind being alone, but that place had made him feel like he was locked up in a padded room. Things were not usually too big for a man like himself, but the house was. “I stayed there for about two weeks and then decided it wasn’t worth living in if you weren’t around. So, since then, I’ve been staying at the Dragon Scales Inn in Somerset. Run down, but it suits my lifestyle. As long as I’m paying for board then no one asks questions. That’s how I like it.”

[Juliet Delia]

(History is always welcome, my dear )

Juliet chuckled at the suggestion that they two of them hit a bar together that evening. He clearly knew that they both had a very, very clear idea of exactly where that would land the two of them at the end of the night, and although he appeared to be feigning innocence and ignorance, Juliet was not that naive. Not that she would particularly object to an evening with such events. Rarely could she turn down nights filled with alcohol, dancing, and gratuitous and repetitive sex, unless of course the other party was blatantly obnoxious. No amount of alcohol in her system could fix that quality in a man. Lucky for her, Damien Monroe was not blatantly obnoxious, and therefore a delightful candidate to spend such an evening with. She looked down into the glass she was pouring the sherry into and grinned, shaking her head. "You are clearly trying to get me hammered, Monroe. I might not be a light-weight, but if I try to keep up with you all night, you'll end up taking home an unconscious lady, which is unbelievably creepy might I add, or you'll be seeing me off to my workplace on a stretcher with alcohol poisoning." She put the bottle of sherry back down, capping it quickly. "As for the hangover potion, I'd tire you out so bad that you wouldn't need it after your sleep," she laughed. A smile slipped over her lips as she added, "I'll send some to you sometime anyways, though, just to prove my worth in potions."

Suddenly, Damien looked as though he was somewhere very far off in his thoughts. Not particularly odd for him, in her experience, but that didn't make her any less uncomfortable. The last time he had appeared this far off in his thoughts, it had been the days leading up to the Minister's Ball, and clearly that had not ended well for really anyone. She still really had no idea why he had been so far off, but it was probably in everyone's best interests for her not to probe the subject. For all she knew, the answer would lead down a road that she didn't know if she would be safe on, and that on its own was disquieting.

Juliet studied the face of the man before her. He had certainly matured since she had first met him, less baby-faced than he had been at the time. Damien Monroe was not a name that had been unknown to her while she was at school; even then, he had been a ladies man, attempting (and often succeeding) to woo which ever girl he set his crosshairs on. She had once been witness to a fistfight between two girls that were both clearly ass over kettle for Monroe, and neither of them had left the fight as pretty as they had been when they'd started. The nurse, she had heard, tore a strip off of both of them, as both girls had several broken bones, cuts, bruises, and one had ended up with a rather leathery pair of bat wings sprouting from her shoulder blades. It took several weeks in the Hospital Wings for both of them to recover. Yes, the man was definitely a heartbreaker, and every word that fell from his lips were soaked up by the ears and eyes of waiting admirers.

Picking up the teapot, she began to pour the hot liquid into the mug before her. This seemed to wake Damien from his thoughts, and she figured it best not to comment on the moments he had been gone. She smiled warmly and handed the teacup to shaking hands. That was a bothersome sight. She'd never seen him with the jitters before. Pushing the thoughts aside, for now was not the time for talking of such things, she nodded and laughed as he mentioned the improvements he had made on his pool game. "As if you needed to get any better," she teased, rolling her eyes at him. She continued to nod as he mentioned where he had been staying. Clearly, the ransacking of her house was not a topic either of them desired to touch with a 20 foot pole at this point. Her smile changed to a frown as he mentioned that the inn he had been staying in was rather rundown. She clucked her tongue as she pursed her lips. "Well, now that I'm home, you're always welcome. My place is big enough for two people, and you know there are extra rooms, if you'd like." Her frown changed to a smirk as she teased him, "You didn't really misbehave last time, so I figure a few years hasn't changed you much."

As if on cue, the vials of acromantula venom and siren tears clinked together as she shifted in her seat. She groaned inwardly, suddenly aware again that she didn't particularly enjoy being in public with such items on her person. She needed to either get them home or to her vault relatively soon, so that she could get rid of the nagging, nervous feeling. They were necessary ingredients in certain potions, but if you were caught with them, the penalty was certainly not light. And there was no good explanation that she could come up with to have the ingredients in her possession. "So," she said, her voice cracking slightly as she tried to push the thoughts from her mind. "What brings you to Drear Alley, dear?"

[Damien Monroe]

With every word and innuendo spoken right back to him, Damien felt more and more anxious to get this formality done and over with so he could finish being Darren’s errand boy and wine and dine Juliet properly. He couldn’t make it any more obvious how badly he wished to make up for lost times with her and by the sound of things, she was more than willing to accept. He knew she wasn’t easy. He just had that touch that he knew that made other males unable to compare. Damien Monroe was one of a kind and he liked to keep things that way. He’d be damned before seeing copycats of himself running all over the blasted country. Just the thought of others trying to be like him was irritating. Flattering, but irritating. He didn’t care much for the imitators regardless of whether or not the ladies could see right through them. “You better watch what you say doll. Don’t forget that I’m a man who hasn’t seen one of his favorite ladies in a very, very long time. If you’re not careful, I will be forced to punish you for leaving without saying a word to me.” Forcing crates of the hangover potion she was talking about would only be one of the endless arrays of fantasies roaming through his head right now. Realizing he needed to calm down Damien took another long sip from his tea cup and closed his eyes. Juliet was sure to be able to read his face like a bloody book, but he didn’t even care. She knew that he liked getting to the point and laying everything out on the table as he saw fit. In his mind, it just made things easier.

When Juliet spoke up again, Damien’s eyes shot open. Stay at her Manor with her again? That was out of the question. He had no idea if Ministry officials were still keeping tabs on the place. If they were, he was sure his sudden appearance would raise a few eyebrows. Though they had no idea of his identity or any part of his appearance, he didn’t want to take any chances. He’d never forgive himself if anything else happened to her home or to her for the matter because of him. Juliet had done nothing to warrant the attention of the Ministry and it was stupid of him to force it onto her home. If she found out what he had said and that he had done it when he was heavily intoxicated, Damien doubted that any amount of explanation would be able to cover his ass. Juliet was sweet and adored him, but even she had her limits. Putting her home into the hands of a drunken asshole only to have it ravaged by the Ministry of Magic because of his doing would surely be one of them. He couldn’t deny the feeling of disappointment that had suddenly flared up in him though. He would have loved nothing more than to take Juliet up on her offer. They had good times together when they had both lived in her home. She had made the place comfortable enough for him to always look forward to coming back to after a long night of drinking. Actually it had been comfortable enough to make Damien enjoy staying there and drinking then going out and doing it. He hadn’t had that type of surroundings in ages, probably since he had left home back when he was younger. He genuinely missed having a home to go back to, even if it wasn’t his.

“Tempting offer,” Damien finally responded, bringing the cup back to his lips once more, “and I will certainly hold you up on that. Glad to see that you were able to notice my good behavior since I was on my best just for you. Of course I’m going to need to post a few girls and see if they can offer me anything better and then post a couple more to tell them that you’ve knocked them out of the running. It’ll be a devastating thing to do, but none of them would be able to hold a flame to you.” With that, he gave her a wink and raised his cup in her direction to cheer her. He tossed his head back and allowed the remaining contents of the cup to flow down his throat and into his stomach. Damien was once again left with an empty cup, but figured it’d be best to hold off for a few minutes. He knew she wouldn’t, but he didn’t want to think that seeing her made him want to drink. The only thing that made him want to drink was his constant need for alcohol and the memories of what he had done to her home rising that he wanted to keep suppressed. Placing the cup on the table next to him, he brought his hand to his mouth and began rubbing at the area. He could already feel his taste buds aching for the sweet nectar of the gods. He was such an alcoholic.

The sound of glass clinking together forced Damien’s eyes to look at Juliet adjusting her robe. The noise made him wonder what it was she was doing down here herself. People didn’t just stroll down Drear for the hell of it. That’s what Alzubra was for. Any visitors of the alley were those who had dark interests on their minds or in search for a quick gambling fix down at Procter’s or Green Street Corner Pub. It was bizarre that the first place he would see Juliet would be here. The last time he checked, his little Hufflepuff was too bubbly and sensible to have business down here, especially being alone. The dirtbags that roamed the streets were worse than the ones at the local bars or other attractions Vienna had to offer. These ones could do far more harm than a woman could imagine. Damien was angered thinking about someone trying to hurt Juliet. He decided that he refused to let her walk out of the alley on her own. He would lead her to some shop for her to spend some of his gambling money to her little heart’s content and then deal with Darren’s errand as fast as he possibly could. She beat him to the question, much to his dismay. However, fortunately for him, his answer was a lot easier to explain then hers would be. “Gambling of course,” he answered with a cheeky smile. “There was a wanker down at Procter’s who owed me for a game he didn’t pay out on last week so I offered him another chance for redemption. Told him I’d excused his pathetic behavior if he played and won. Needless to say, he accepted but forgot who he was playing again.” Bringing his hands to his chest, Damien pointed at himself. “I won, again, and I got double the coins because of my success which you must have clearly heard about hence why you were waiting for me to come out, right? Since there wouldn’t be any other reason for you to be roaming around, eh?” He knew he was prying, but he was just so damn curious as to why Juliet was in the shadiest part of Austria.