WHO: Chester Scabior and Bess Fawcett
WHAT: He's got a proposition for her. Or, more like a demand.
WHERE: A cafe!
WHEN: Today!



It had taken him far longer than he would have liked to track her down. But no matter how elusive Bess Fawcett may have become in recent years, she still wouldn’t be able to avoid Chester forever. Not if he focused all his attention on the task. It only took him about two weeks splitting efforts between locating his ex-girlfriend and trying to keep his shop a float.

He frowned at the thought of his business, hating the very amateur investment he made that landed him in this situation in the first place. He was half tempted to let the whole place go under, but leaving it for Borgin & Burke’s to benefit from all his hard work made his skin crawl even more than resorting to extortion. At least extortion had the benefit of being fun.

The jingle of the bell about the door pulled him from his thoughts and he looked up from behind his copy of the Prophet. Ah, just on time. He folded his paper carefully as Bess ordered her drink and waited until she took her usual seat in the back corner before standing and moving quietly in her direction.

“It’s been far too long, Mrs. Fawcett,” he said as he settled into the empty chair across from her. “I certainly hope you haven’t forgotten me.”

Her life had been going far too perfectly.

Her husband was amazing, her children were darlings if not a bit overwhelming, and she was simply enjoying the way things were. Bess should have known that something was going to come and throw her off course. She nearly choked on her drink as soon as someone sat down, and then blanched as she realized who it was. What was he--? She hadn’t seen him in ages, she thought she’d managed to rid him from her life for good.

Bess pressed her back up against the seat behind her, attempting to clear her face of emotion. It was always so difficult to keep her composure around Chester, however, and it could be days after a run in with him that Bess was still shaking with nerves. What could he possibly want? He knew she’d never give him time with Sadie, and it wasn’t as if he’d ever actually cared about her daughter. Bess didn’t want him to care, he’d already kidnapped her, he’d already---

“What,” Bess said through gritted teeth, eyes darting around the cafe to make sure there would be eyewitnesses if he attempted anything.

Chester leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs at his ankles.

"Now now, we wouldn’t want anyone to accuse you of not having any manners,” he said pleasantly. It was good to know that merely sitting down at the same table as Bess still had the same effect that it did a few years ago. Perhaps ‘borrowing’ a family member a time or two had that effect on a person.

Dimples graced his cheeks as he offered her a charming smile. Even if he didn’t get what he needed (though as much as he hated to admit it, he very much needed) this right here was almost enough to get him through the day. He was half tempted to ask to see Sadie just for the reaction.

He traced the lines of the wood on the table contemplating his next move. He had to tread carefully, the line between sounding desperate and just wanting to get something out of Bess for the sheer joy of it was very thin.

"Just thought I’d check in, see how things were. Need anything for Sadie? That quidditch player of yours providing for you alright? Rumor has it more and more of them are straying from the straight and narrow.”

He made her skin crawl. Bess had gone so long without feeling like this, without dealing with the sheer dread that Chester brought upon her, so it was as if he’d hexed her with a freezing spell. She wished she could just get angry and storm out of the cafe, or react cooly and make him bristle, but---she couldn’t. She’d tried. There were so many layers of fear and distress that he’d laid upon her that Bess really felt frozen to the core. Abandoning her when she found out she was pregnant with Sadie, the emotional abuse, the---having her memories restored a few years ago still caused her to panic when her thoughts drifted.

Bess’ glare hardened as he brought up Sadie and Drystan. He had no right to talk about either of them, let alone assume that they wouldn’t be in a good place. “What do you want?”

Because of course he wanted something. He’d never bothered with her unless there was something he needed, or wanted. The thought made her shiver, and her hand reached for her wand in her cloak pocket.

Chester let out a put upon sigh. Shame, that the pleasantries were always skipped.

“Well, you see, I have unfortunately gotten myself into a bit of a-- situation. Not to worry though, its nothing too drastic,” he said quickly just in case Bess might get overly concerned. “Minor financial error. Nothing you can’t help me with, you see. Just need a wee bit of a loan.”

He steepled his fingers as he leaned onto his elbows. “Obviously, love, you were the first person I thought of. I just know how happy you always are to help an old friend out. Money never really that important to you. Admirable that you always put your family first. It should be commended, really.”

He smiled at her, he could almost see her shake, with how much she was bristling. “Shall we make this easy and just head to Gringotts, or are you going to demand to see my hand first?”

Bess’ expression of anger and fear began to melt away as Chester began to reveal his latest plot. Her eyebrows rose in confusion and then she scoffed loudly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You’re asking me for money?” she said, unintentionally raising her voice but finding herself okay with the fact. He was really daring to ask her for money? Bess wasn’t sure what she would have been more insulted by, Chester requesting time to see Sadie or this nonsense! “You’re out of your bloody mind! I’m not giving you a knut!”

It did make her feel a bit better, however, to learn that he was having financial trouble. Maybe he was finally going to get his comeuppance. Going bankrupt or whatever it was that Chester was facing was surely not enough to fill in his crimes, but it was a definite start. Bess latched onto her bag quickly, sliding off her seat.

“Don’t you dare approach me about this again, or anything, for that matter!” she hissed sternly, revealing her wand. Bess wasn’t the most skilled when it came to spells and charms, but she knew enough to cause a scene, and blasting a hole in a muggle cafe’s wall could definitely do that.

Chester smiled, amused faintly at the the threat Bess was trying to make by revealing her wand. It almost made him a bit proud that he could get a normally docile witch to react almost violently. He caught her wrist to prevent her from walking off.

“The hard way it is, Bess, can’t anything ever be easy with you?” Chester asked with a slight shake of his head. “How about before you make up your mind, I let you in on a few facts.”

He released her wrist, and stayed lounged his chair. Not at all concerned about her walking out. He had her attention long enough to say what he needed, then after that if she wanted to leave so be it. “Like the fact, Puddlemere has gone on a rather convenient losing streak. Times quite well with the fact Geoff Brand just got caught fixing games. Would have caused quite a bother in my friend’s business had he not found a replacement so quickly. Almost better this time around, as he snagged a captain.” It was a gamble, as Chester was just using the vague details he knew to spin a story. He was confident though that he could make it sound convincing enough to get Bess to do what he needed.

“And before you go saying it’s not true, well, that doesn’t really matter does it? Once a story like that leaks to the Prophet, reputations get tarnished and questions will always be raised.”

Her vision had gone blurry. Bess’ mind whirled at Chester’s threats, initially ready to scoff and dismiss them, but realizing quickly how much damage he really could cause. She knew he had his games, that he had friends who would help him commit the crime. One of his associates was still serving his sentence for taking the fall in kidnapping Sadie when she was a baby. Bess could easily see how evidence could be created against Drystan, she could perfectly envision the headlines that the papers could conjure up. It was so easy for her to see, that it must’ve looked like a walk in the park for a snake like Chester.

Bess’ fists clenched tightly, aware that she really couldn’t do anything in the moment but fume and be angry, furious. She could not give in to Chester’s demands even if it meant silencing him, because---it didn’t. Bess knew that if she shut him up with some money he would come back and continue to torture her and her family. She knew that---if she told Drystan, Chester would waste no time in leaking whatever fake evidence he had to the papers and ruin her husband’s career.

She was stuck and feeling completely and utterly lost.

Her hands shook, and unable to put her fury into words, Bess lashed out and grabbed the drink she barely got to taste and threw it in Chester’s face. She didn’t wait to see if it was still scalding hot as she disapparated from the cafe.