The Shaded Lantern is a gentlemen's club with a reputable reputation for serving fine drinks, gambling, and an enjoyable evening spent discussing with friends or in the arms of a purchased flower or herb. The waiters pass through the many rooms carrying silver-rimmed wine glasses to not only ensure the safety of the patrons but also to maintain neutral ground. This evening the open bar is full as is the smoke room, gaming hall, dining hall, and even the private rooms for discussion or pleasure.
It is a most busy evening, where a young man with mousy brown hair and chocolate-colored eyes sighs tiredly and rests in a hidden nook. Peter Pettigrew was very grateful to have a very good paying job (thanks to Rowan) in the intelligence houses belonging to (her aunt) Georgine Prince. He was no stranger to hard labor, having worked during the summer outdoors doing manual landscaping.
Being new to the job, Peter is presently being trained in how to be discreet and unseen at the Shaded Lantern. He wouldn't have minded as much if not for his cousin, Euphemia (Rowle) working here as well. She acted like she owned the place! It was driving him up the walls!
Knowing that he had taken a long enough break, and his absence might be noticed, Peter rises and stretches twice, before acting in a discreet manner. He slipped between guests acting like a server pouring wine and discreetly listening in to the ongoing conversations. The trick he had been taught was to act as if one simply does not exist but all the while carefully taking note of any importation. Of course, this is easier than, because how many people can recall an entire conversation or vital details from multiple conversations in a row?
Turning a corner, Peter returns to the kitchens only to encounter a dour-faced young woman with a smirk on her past face. His heart sinks dreadfully inside his chest. The thick-waisted witch with blond hair and cruel cobalt-colored eyes is his cousin, Euphemia.
"Pettigrew," Euphemia delighted in calling her half-blooded cousin by his filthy muggleborn surname. "You were very noticeable this evening, I will have to let Floyd and Hyde know."
Peter grimaces at his cousin's words. Floyd and Hyde are two burly wizards in charge of security. Their bulky appearances followed many including Peter. Peter quickly discovered that the brothers are not to be underestimated. The eldest, Floyd, is especially cunning and ruthless.
Before Peter can lose his temper, a female voice can be heard saying, "Oi, leave Peter alone, will ya, Euffie?" A sturdy witch in her late twenties enters the kitchen. The witch is a bit bulky but has a determined glint in her eyes. She wears the uniform of an Auror Academy trainee, Daffodil Buck known to all as Daff. The younger sister of Hyde and Floyd, who happens to be just as strong as her brothers.
Somewhat friendly with Daffodil Buck, Euphemia desists as she respects the other witch. "Well, I shall be on my way," she proudly announced and flounced away.
Once his cousin is out of earshot, Peter flashes Daffodil a grateful expression. "Thank you, Daff. I might have lost my temper and said something I shouldn't have," he tiredly admitted as he rubbed his face with one hand.
"You just have to get Euffie to respect you," Daffodil confidently responded. "I'm sure, she'll come to respect you in no time."
Peter's expression remains unconvinced, before glancing at the time. He was going to be late! "Sorry, Daff, I just lost track of time! Please tell Floyd and Hyde, that I will turn in my report tomorrow!"
"Will do," Daffodil grinned, before marching out of the kitchen. It wasn't like her brothers could yell at her; they knew better than to do that. And as for hitting her, please, she would return every blow twofold!
Still putting on his clothes, Peter dresses in the servant's quarters. He barely manages to right himself up, before grabbing a pinch of floo powder. He tosses the sparkling dust into the fireplace for the use of the employees. "The Society for the Support of Squibs," he shouted, before stepping into the emerald flames.
A whirl and twirl, Peter pops out into a rather crowded area. He blinked twice as if to clear his sight, but he had not seen wrongly. All those in attendance wore an enchanted badge with an enchanted moving cat, which presently is playing with a ball of yarn. Even more incredulous is that all of the participants have a pair of fuzzy ears on their heads.
Peter reaches into his pocket for James's note. He double-checked the name written on the note, but he had not misspoken the location. Doubly confused, he failed to notice an overly enthusiastic witch approach him.
"Welcome to the Whisperers of the Meow!" said Irma Wright (the passionate chairman of the Society for Support of Squibs and the Whisperers of the Meow). She happily pins an enchanted badge to Peter's outer jacket and puts a pair of fuzzy gray tabby ears on his head.
"There are plenty of food and drinks!" Irma Wright cheerfully indicated. "Please don't be shy! We won't scratch!" She gently teased, before moving to greet various other members in attendance.
"Right," Peter mumbled under his breath recalling the instructions on the note. Heading down the hall, he took a right. He finds himself in a cozy parlor with a roaring fire. Seated already in a large armchair that dwarfs her is a petite witch with grizzled gray hair pulled up in a semi-neat updo with a pair of black cat ears on top of her head. She wears a clean velvet dress and coat with a pair of soft Oxford styled tartan carpet slippers. There are a few cat hairs here and there having been gained upon departing from her home. And a very large pin on her coat acknowledging her as a Senior Member of the Whisperers of the Meow.
"Ah, you must be Peter Pettigrew," Miss Arabella Doreen Fig warmly smiled. Her spotted hand patted the empty armchair next to her in invitation. "Have a seat young man, while we wait. Those two are running late."
Glancing around Peter frowns slightly as he sits down. Why did James invite him to attend the crazy cat cult meeting? There weren't as many members in Gryffindor, but he knew that Slytherin was absolutely teeming with them!
Then again, maybe, James was embarrassed to tell them. Still, Peter had never seen James interacting with the cats in and around Hogwarts. He would have surely noticed, wouldn't he?