McCutney Dining

"Liz!" a woman barked. "You're needed at table five!"

Liz nodded and made her way in that direction, sighing. The good thing about her parents owning a restaurant was that she had a job at age twelve and they never ran out of good food; the bad news was that she could never sleep at night for the noise that was made. She also didn't really get paid and wouldn't until she was sixteen, because then it could actually be called a job and not an 'internship.' It's like Cinderella, she thought in a moment of uncharacteristic melodramatic-ness, but then her mother called "Please!" and she was forced to grumble her way to the table.

"Hello," she nodded, not even looking at the people she was serving, because honestly? She didn't care for people all that much. "Can I take your order?"

Pierre followed his soon to be step brother in the Muggle diner, hunched over his phone as he replied to Ki's text. The older boy was already eying a young waitress- that annoying girl from the Cauldron, Pierre remembered- as they sat down.

"She's only twelve you know." he said mindlessly, moving on to his email.

"Really?" Jonathon asked skeptically, still eying her.

Pierre rolled his eyes and moved back to the phone, hoping the Muggles had another waiter or waitress to serve them.

Liz handed the chef the order from table five before looking around and spotting a familiar face. "No way," she muttered with a scowl. There was that guy from the Leaky Cauldron--the weird CEO dude. He was sitting with a boy who, even from this vantage point, was the most gorgeous guy she'd ever seen. She looked hopefully at the other waiters and waitresses...perhaps...?

"Liz!" She groaned as Agnus, a kind 17-year-old, nodded her toward them. "Take care of that table for me? I'm rather busy..." Liz noticed that she was carrying about twelve plates and hastily nodded. "Thanks!" The girl beamed at her, but the circles under her eyes were obvious; the place had really taken a blow from the economic downturn. She sighed and trod over to the table.

"Hello," she greeted, sighing slightly before casting them a grin; just treat them like regular customers, even if one of them is completely irresistable and the other's an idiot. "Would you like something to drink, or are you ready to order? Oh," she pointed her pencil at the boy from the Cauldron, "And you left one of your--I'm sure--many phones at the table, I've got it if you need it."

"Ello. I'll have the steak and potatoes," Jonathon smiled at the girl, "With a Coke, if you will."

Pierre rolled his eyes at the girl, "Hopefully you didn't snoop around. I do need it." He shrugged. "I'll have a house salad, no croutons and with low fat dressing." he said, "With water." He handed her his menu, going back to his phone as jonathon struck up conversation.

"So do you go to that one Hog school up in Scotland? I heard from Terry that you're in the blue house." Jonathon asked curiously.

Pierre mentally hit his head in frustration. Why couldn't they have gone to that nice Wizarding Italian place in France?

Liz grinned. Well, at least someone here was willing to be polite. "No problem," she agreed, writing down the order quickly. She listened curiously to his accent. Definitely not English--German, maybe? Australian? She hadn't a clue.

"Of course not," she lied easily, hardly feeling guilty; she had only looked through his ringtones, after all. That was hardly a crime. She penciled his order in. "Alright, I'll get it to you in just a moment, and your cell phone's in my room--remind me when you've finished eating to bring it to you." She stuck the pencil behind her air and clutched the notepad a little tighter, leaning on her left leg as the strangely-accented boy spoke.

"That's me," she agreed, a small grin donning her face. The blue house? She couldn't have said it better herself. "Ravenclaw, through and through. What about you? You don't seem like you're from around here, so I don't think you went to Hogwarts."

Her eyebrows rose as the boy scowled. It was a bit fun to get him riled up, actually...she hoped they came to eat more often.

"Good." Pierre nodded, sending off the email to the Muggle CEO and starting the one for the Wizarding CEO of KK. They needed to invest their money in DOW and Gringotts respectively...

"Ah, no. I went to school at Sydney School of Necromancy and Wizarding Arts?" Jonathon explained. Pierre rolled his eyes. Jonathon had been enrolled in the 'Wizarding' section of that school.

Which basically meant Pierre had an idiotic stepbrother.

She couldn't suppress an eye roll at the third year's clipped response; of course. Good. Not, 'thanks, nice to know you aren't as horrible as I thought,' just 'Good.' Well, she mused, she shouldn't have expected much more; he obviously wasn't very bright.

"She haven't heard of that," she replied curiously, eyes sparkling slightly. "Necromancy? Did you study that, or is the school divided into parts--necromancy and wizarding?" She beamed at him. New knowledge was always fun to figure out.

As she stood there, talking, she thought that she should probably get their order to the back soon--otherwise they'd be waiting for their food forever. After a moment of inward fighting, she decided on a compromise; in a minute.

Jonathon shook his. "Eh, no. I'm studying regular spells and things- they gage you on political standing and bloods staus- for example, Pierre here will be learning necromancy, top of class."

Pierre snorted mentally, not looking up from his phone. "Are we getting our food soon or when we're dead?" he asked the girl, glancing up from his phone.

This place had horrible service...