Buying gifts for those who one cared about while on holiday seemed a tradition designed to remind one’s acquaintances that they had not been with you on the exceedingly enjoyable vacation which had resulted in many fond memories. Alex was not fond of it, but as almost everyone who mattered to her was on holiday with her, there was only her godfather to consider, to make up for an inadequate birthday present. Something dragon related would be easy, and predictable. If nothing else presented itself, however, she could fall back on it. Alex drifted through the market without particular purpose, and little inclination as far as spending was concerned.

Potential gifts were considered, and then replaced. Truthfully, the magic which sustained the market was of greater interest – the entire thing, people and stalls and the walkways between them, suspended in the air above the water, the lights not reflected lest the muggles catch on. It was atmospheric, if a little chilly.

About to make a turn, she paused when she noticed a familiar profile. Although reason suggested otherwise, the tousled hair was unmistakeable. Rather than take the opportunity for a nap, as he so frequently did, her cousin had levered himself upright and had voluntarily done something. She would, of course, have to find out what had prompted this behaviour, and so she changed course, moving through the crowds until she was directly behind him.

“Virgil.” She paused, to be sure that she had his attention, “What is so pressing that you are not seizing the opportunity to gain additional hours asleep?” In bed was far too narrow a term to be used; Virgil was capable of sleeping whilst on a broom.

Virgil didn't understand how it could still be so warm in the evenings, when the sun had gone down and they were supposed to be basking in the cool air that had been forced down by the rise of heat. It didn't make sense. He tugged at the red bandana tied loosely around his neck. It caught sweat.

The rest of him, in cropped denim and a stripped t-shirt, made Virgil feel like an overdressed twelve year old on holiday.

"Khwāy? You want khwāy?" the jewellery stall shopkeeper was talking over the hubbub of chatter. Rows upon rows of lit stalls formed the Bangkok floating market; as tourists or locals crossed the hanging pathways from one shop to another, they made a low din that he thought was completely unnecessary. How did they have the energy.

Even so, it was easy to distinguish the approaching voice as that of his excellent cousin's.

"Alex," Virgil turned slightly and ran a hand through his hair - it was getting damp, increasingly unkept. "Thank Merlin. I don't suppose you know Thai, do you?" Of course he hadn't read the phrase book that had been given to all students on the summer trip. "I've been trying to... get something for Adelaide."

Anyone close to him knew how much Virgil adored his older sister (in that quiet and subdued way of his). And Alex of course knew that Adelaide would have smacked him on the underside of his head if he didn't get her something after travelling halfway across the globe.

The stall keeper gestured animatedly at the wire pendant he'd been looking at. It was in the shape of a horned water buffalo.  "You want? Very cheap, beautiful Khwāy-" she continued loudly. "Can sell to you right now."

Virgil blinked tiredly at this haranguing and looked to Alex as if to say 'look what I have to deal with.'

Alex’s lips quirked slightly, and she leaned cautiously around Virgil to look at the stall, taking in the array of jewellery before returning her attention to Virgil, and smiling slightly. He looked so frustrated. Bartering was such a high energy activity, involving shouting (because the validity of your argument was directly proportional to its volume), that watching the lethargic Virgil participate would surely be… entertaining.

Her eyebrows lifted slightly, “know Thai? Beyond the basic phrases and words, no. I doubt anything I know would be helpful in this situation.” There was only one word of Thai, which seemed to mean jewellery.

“Do you want to buy that for her? I wouldn’t think… but you know her better than I.” She smiled and shrugged, placing the burden of choice, and thus responsibility for any fallout, on Virgil’s shoulders. It was true, after all; Virgil was far more capable of making a decision regarding his sister’s tastes.

She didn’t see what the confusion was. Clearly, the woman wanted to sell Virgil something. Virgil seemed to view the small wire creature an appropriate gift, so an agreement on payment was the last thing to settle. “Suggest a price, maybe.”

Virgil detected a hint of concern about his choice of a gift for Adelaide - granted that not many witches would adorn wire buffalo around their necks. But it was both a dare and a gift. She would like that. It would do nicely to see the looks on their faces if she strode into court wearing it.

He did take cousin Alex's advice on suggesting a price, however.

A healthy one to avoid having to keep talking at an absurd volume. "Is that alright?" Virgil asked while the storekeeper turned to her assistant to conspire. "Excuse me," he repeated with the unpleasant sensation of being a clueless tourist. "I said, is that alright?"

The storekeeper finally snapped back to attention.

"Yes, yes good. You hold on. My son, he go get you khwāy. Very healthy one," she accepted the currency on his outstretched palm and waved off the young boy who disappeared down one of the crowded walkways behind them. "You wait." The Thai woman commanded as if though he might leave without his purchase.

Virgil turned to Alex, looking quite put out by general humidity and the exhausting act of conversation. "Salazar forbid, I'm beginning to miss Diagon Alley." Thank Merlin he didn't have to barter. He was not built for bartering. They could safely cross tradesmen off the list of possible professions.

"Hold on. Healthy? Did she say she was going to get me a healthy one?" he asked flatly and felt his heart sinking before his head could catch up to conjecture. Several other patrons were staring past Virgil's shoulder now. He felt the walkways of the floating market tremor slightly. "Dearest cousin. Could you... could you please turn around and tell me that there isn't a live water buffalo being lead in our direction?"

She watched her cousin’s exasperated bartering with amusement, hands in pockets, smiling a little wider when he had finished and – healthy? The word was enough to make Alex freeze, hoping she had misheard – but she had said healthy twice, she was sure of it.

Virgil was speaking, but Alex paid no attention to what he was saying, trying to work out what a khwāy was – or rather, to come up with an alternative to the suggesting lumbering forth with terrible inevitability. “Virgil,” she said, her voice sounding distant, but her warning wasn’t needed: he, too, had realised the implication of what the woman had said.

His horror reminded her of the most essential fact of the situation: Virgil had bought the buffalo. The buffalo was thus Virgil’s responsibility, and not hers. She was… if not an unaffected bystander, certainly not the owner of cattle.

Her eyes re-focused on Virgil, her expression perfectly serious, “I can, but I would be lying to you and I would hate to give you false hope.” She turned anyway, staring at the slow-moving animal, unusual enough to catch attention even in the bustle of the market. Not to mention its less than appealing countenance and ability to make the walkways shudder. She was sure that there were other students who had caught sight of it – yes. A group of the fourth years were pointing and talking.

She returned her attention to the animal and its attendant swiftly, “I am sure Adelaide will be perfectly charmed to receive wildlife as a gift.” Though perhaps not this particular species of wildlife. It was the kind of gift which, if there was any novelty to wear off, outlived its novelty and grew irritating very swiftly indeed. And that was assuming he could get the creature to England – it was a little too large to be carried by owl.