"May I help you?" Sandy held his arm out. He helped Harper step out of the boat. He had dressed smartly. He wore his favourite cologne. He hoped he did not smell of hospital. Harper looked beautiful. She had caught his eye on Level Two. He did not know where he found courage to ask her. He had not dated in a long time. Very long time!

"We have a table for two. M-Misslethorpe." Sandy said to the restaurant staff. His heart was fluttering. He was nervous. He hated his stutter. It always gave him away. He smiled at Harper. He wanted her to enjoy the evening. The sea lapped at the restaurant. The lights floated about them. The sun would set soon. He held out Harper's chair for her. He was glad sit. He sipped a little water. He felt as nervous as a school boy!

"Have you b-been here at all?" He asked politely.

Harper, as she inevitably did when she went on dates, felt guilty.

It felt very strange to have time on her hands since Lawrence was transferred to St.Mungo's. The change of setting had meant her main client was no longer her priority in terms of paperwork - that was Morgenthau's problem now - but she still worried about him, locked up in that hospital.

No. She wasn't going to think about work tonight. Harper had liked the boat ride up to Ascendio, and Sandy's good manners. He was a nice wizard. Polite with a bite of something interesting underneath it all. She let him take her coat off for the cloakroom, before they were led to their table. Ascendio was gorgeous. Other diners were scattered across the restaurant as well, discreetly spaced.

            "Have you b-been here at all?"

With a start, she realised they hadn't really talked since getting here. Harper tore her gaze away from the view of the sea, smiling at Sandy. She needed to get out of her head and enjoy this date.

"I haven't, believe it or not." Harper glanced around Ascendio, which was probably the nicest place she'd come to in the last year year. "I keep meaning to. Guess I never had a good reason..." a waiter approached them with the menus and a quick description of the chef's specials, as well as the recommended wine.

When he left, Harper turned back to Sandy, curious. "Do you take all your dates here or is this a first for you too?" she teased.

"All my dates?" Sandy nervously laughed. "That would be to suggest I have dates." He blushed. "I last came here with business partners. If I am honest. A friend assured me it was still suitable." Why would he lie? Harper Graves was a lawyer. She could see lies. Sandy did worry she was good at lies too. But so were reporters. He had an office full of those. "I am glad your last date was not here either." He teased too. "Thank you for coming though." Sandy said softly. He was really out of practise with dating! "At the risk of sounding cliche. Who is Harper Graves outside of the Ministry?"

            "...A friend assured me it was still suitable."

She laughed, glancing down at the menu as they chatted. "Your friend was right." Harper reassured her date with a red-lipped smile and flipped a page from the starters to mains - it never took her very long to make up her mind about what to eat or drink. Her ex-husband had been the fickle one.

"I don't know if that's a cliche but it's a good question," she put down the menu to look at Sandy in earnest. "What do I do when I'm not defending criminals, you mean?"

Her life and work life were surprisingly separate, now that she gave it some thought. It was one of those things that any good attorney learned to do; compartmentalise. On the other hand it did feel like her career took up a bigger chunk of time and energy than anything else.

"Not much." Harper frowned, after a thoughtful pause. "I live outside of London so I like to do some gardening in my free time, whenever George isn't digging up the beds. That's my dog. He's a field spaniel, crazily affectionate. I guess you could say I try to do a lot of nothing to balance out all the something on level two."

If that made sense. The waiter came by to take their order for drinks, murmuring politely. When he left, Harper raised her eyebrows at Sandy and leaned slightly forward in her seat. "What about Healer Misslethorpe? Is there more to you than meets the eye?"

He nodded. "I can understand that." He said. Being so busy at work. So you wanted to do nothing in your own time. "When I am not healer?" He said. "I go running. I am not especially good at it. But it helps. Like gardening I suppose." He smiled. "I live in the broads. The air is fresh and early in the morning I see the wildlife. London can be suffocating?" She worked there too. Maybe she liked cities. "I grew up in a place called Bury Saint Edmunds. Have you heard of it?" Sandy said. "Did you grow up in a big city?" His small talk was really rubbish!

Running? Harper eyed her date curiously, trying to imagine him in jogging gear and making rounds in the country on a cold morning. He seemed like such a quiet and normal guy but she wondered.... her instincts didn't usually lead her towards quiet and normal guys.

"London can be," she shrugged as their water came by to pour their drinks. "It's not as bad as New York, where I grew up. You forget about the sky in some parts of the city."

The parks were nice and upstate New York could be great but she had lived in the centre, building blocks rising like frozen colossi around her. "Never heard of.... of Bury St. Edmunds. Sounds quaint."

Lots of English places did. They looked quaint too: untouched by time. She could never tell if she liked or hated that.

"You travel much?" Harper asked, sipping her wine.

"It is a little." Sandy agreed. He smiled.

"Not of late." Sandy said. "It is more difficult to take a break." He looked at her. "You must feel the same?" Always cases needing attention. "If it is not the hospital it is the magazine." Sandy shrugged. "I would like to get away. Where would you recommend?"

            "You must feel the same?"

She slid her hand across the table linen, playing idly with the stem of her wine glass as they chatted. "Yeah, I did more travelling before I got into criminal defence." Harper had specialised in trade law before but it never had the same workaholic allure that her cases did today. It was strange to think about her less driven days.

Maybe she would have more dinners like these, if she eased up on her hours and didn't spend all her free time researching or rehearsing for trials. Sandy sounded like he had the same problem, but he was holding down two responsibilities!

"I'm a Manhattanite at heart, so I have to recommend my city." Harper slid into her old city accent for just a second and laughed. "If you mean closer, I really liked Venice. Used to go with my, um -" she sipped her drink, "- my ex-husband. Lots of museums and great restaurants. But you have to go in the winter, it stinks in the summer."

She had very beautiful eyes. Her accent was different obviously. It sounded so bold. So confident. Made his own feel stuffy. Posh. Harper Graves was confident in her own skin. Sandy thought she was charming. She was ferocious. But not like the reporters at Witch Weekly. She was a lion at rest here. He hoped.
"Venice?" Sandy said. "I will remember that." He sipped water. Harper had said her ex-husband. Sandy decided to be honest. Show her they had common ground. "I visited Florence. Saw the Duomo, David, Birth of Venus... Italy is meant to be for romantics." He gave a sad smile. "Did not last for me and my ex-wife." He shrugged. "Long time ago now."

Their starters arrived. Sandy was relieved. He was hungry and it interrupted. "Santorini is on my list." He said. Once they had admired each other's choices. "Do you know it? Volcanic island. Minoan settlement preserved under ash. Like Pompeii. Fascinating."

            Italy is meant to be for romantics. Did not last for me and my ex-wife. Long time ago now."

"It is," she agreed and mirrored his smile, understandingly. "The memories are nice, though. Hard to regret a thing like that you know?" Harper still spoke to her ex about what they called the good old days, much to his new wife's chagrin. They were good friends still but this probably wasn't the time or place to discuss that.

Their appetisers looked great - she'd ordered a wild rice salad, topped with chunks of roast pumpkin. It smelled yum. Sandy's dish did, too.

"I've heard of it, yeah. I don't know a lot about Greece," she admitted as they began to eat. "Sounds like it has some interesting history. Is that how you relax? I like places with things to learn. Can't just visit a pretty beach and do nothing. "

"I think I would get very bored." Agreed Sandy. "I like a bit of a rest. But a change is as good as a rest." He smiled. "I do like some history. I prefer to emerge myself. Much like healing. Can only learn so much from a book. Have to observe. Have to do the techniques."

Some of Sandy's trainee healers were nervous to try new things. Spell damage was Sandy's specialisation. It was not always guts and glory. That was creatures injuries. "I tell my trainee healers this. They worry about the outcome. They do not want to do things wrong." They learned. Sometimes you could not help but do things wrong. You learned to live with it.

"You must study a lot of theory." said Sandy. "Past cases. Build an argument." He imagined. "Your work must change the outcome of a life too. What made you choose that path?"

Harper couldn't imagine Sandy as a Healer. She so rarely had to visit St.Mungo's, though, so she had a difficult time imagining regular people as Healers. In her memories, they were always overbearing and kind of maternal. The wizards and witches who treated her for the usual magical childhood illnesses. Even so, she could still picture Sandy as having a good bedside manner.

            "You must study a lot of theory....change the outcome of a life....made you choose that path?"

"It's a lot of theory but it's also just... studying human nature, really," she smiled and sipped her wine. "Or non-human nature. When it comes down to stressful situations, people fall into certain patterns and habits."

Her clients were always able to surprise her but sometimes they resorted to predictable actions. There were only so many things you could do, when faced down by the law. The witch paused to consider her date's question, pushing around her wild rice salad with a fork.

"I saw a lot of people being trod on by level two, during the war and after the war." Harper shrugged, because he would know what she was talking about - the abuse of the law by the dark lord's supporters, and then dark wizards being sent to Azkaban by makeshift trials. "People always think I'm defending criminals but that's not it. I'm making sure that the law is exercised to its best extent, and that includes the protection of everybody's rights."

Justice, for her, went both ways. She didn't like the idea of having two different sets of rules or biases for different people. Everyone had a right to be treated humanely, to be recognised as a person. Even if they were a person who'd done monstrous things.

"I understand." Sandy said. "I really do. As a healer I make every effort to ensure that the rights of patients are respected. Even if imprisoned or detained. I must not be influenced by political pressure not the social standing of the patient." It was hard some times. "We both want to protect the rights of others. Whatever their life choices." It was much better than the war. But not perfect.

"Have you ever questioned if you could?" He asked. Sandy had not planned to discuss ethics. It had happened. But it was common ground.