Engulfed in a puffy yellow jacket, her dark hair blowing around her face, Fauna pasted a SAWS flier on the rough walls of the Leaky Cauldron. She'd made room for it between a Ministry announcement about winter heating charms and a job posting for Scribbulus. Though she'd only gotten here a few minutes ago, she already had her free hand buried in her jacket pocket, and kept switching hands to hold the fliers. The damp chill in the air had followed her on Monday when she'd gone to Flynn's party, and traveled to hover right over Diagon Alley this afternoon.

Fauna had been so wrapped up in Auror training this fall that it had taken her till November to realize that she hadn't replaced the fliers for months. A part of her felt like it was pointless, like she was just going through the motions. After Zel's secret had been revealed at Hogwarts, she was still angry at Fig, discouraged about SAWS, and unsure about her place now. It was so much easier to focus on work at the Ministry.

She began to move past the pub, tucking the stack of fliers underneath her jacket arm and shoving both hands in her pockets with a sigh of relief. Then, before she could think she was clever, someone swung open the pub door and walked right into her. Her fliers went flying.

Scowling, Fauna bent to pick them up. With the SAWS logo emblazoned at the top, and the circle with a wolf's head just below it, it was easy to see which cause she was championing.

Jack stood at the back of the Leaky Cauldron, just staring at the door that led towards Diagon Alley. Every time he started to push it open, he'd stop short and stand there with his heart pounding in his ears. It had been enough of an adrenaline rush just walking into the shabby storefront to find a room full of self-propelling brooms, tea that served and stirred itself, and paintings that tried to hold a conversation with you, let alone entering an entire city block of such things. He really wished that Roger had accompanied him on this journey, but his new mate was busy and Jack was too impaitent to wait. He had waited for 19 years to see this place, to experience what he had only heard of second hand, and he wasn't going to wait any longer. At least, that was the plan once he got past the damn doorway.

Adjacent to the door was a painting of a Scottish high-lander in full kilt, who was watching Jack with amusement. "Look, Lad, I ken see ye are a bit glaekit[1], so let ol' Angus help. P U S H means 'Push'. Thats all ye 'ave ta do." The Scot offered, shaking a mane of red curls that took up the part of the painting that wasn't already occupied by his girth. Jack had no idea what 'glaekit' meant but he had a feeling it was an insult. However, the face that peeked out from under the vast red sea of a beard was jovial enough that he didn't take it to heart. "I know, I know... I'm... jus' well chuffed[2], I guess..." He said, sucking his lips in as he turned back to the door. He reached up again and this time, his fingers actually rested on the door frame for a second before he pulled them away, "I just... ain't never been... ya know... there..." He pointed towards the general direction of the alley before adding shyly "Only ever 'eard abou'it from me mum..."

The painting looked surprised by this, since Jack was obviously older than eleven, and started to inquire "How..." when someone suddenly shouted "MOVE! Yer blocking the doorway, you bloody twit!" in Jack's ear before pushing past him and out the door. Jack got a glimpse at a tall man, probably in his thirties, with dark hair and a black robe-ish overcoat. The door swung shut behind him and the Scotsman scowled "Aye... Ye should go skelp 'is melt[3] fer that, laddy. There's no call fer that sort of rudeness..." Jack, despite not understanding 'skelp' or 'melt', got the general gist of what he meant and whole-heartedly agreed. Besides, it gave him the push he needed to finally move past that damnable doorway.

"Cheers..." Jack said with a nod of his head as he followed the git out the door and into a damp, dreary courtyard. He didn't have a chance to stare at his new obstacle, namely the brick wall that blocked the path to Diagon, when he saw the bloke from earlier yelling at a young woman, his wand brandished threateningly. She was struggling against a giant yellow parka in an attempt to pick up what looked like hundreds, or at least dozens, of fliers that were strewn about the ground. It didn't take him long to realize what had happened and Jack felt the hairs rise along the back of his neck, disgusted at the way the man was treating her. Remembering the Scots advice, he strode towards them purposefully.

Jack's shoulder caught the back of his at just the right angle and the bloke in blacks wand clattered to the cobblestones. "Oi, watch where you're going!" The man snapped, his attention wrenched from the girl as he turned to face the new 'offender'. Their eyes met and the two froze in place, tight as springs and poised to snap. Brows raised and lips in a thin line, Jack cocked his head back and eyed the man with a gaze that dared him to make something of it. "Sorry, Mate. Don't be lettin' me keep ya." Jack shot back, his voice light but hardly friendly. The man got the hint, and after a moment of sizing Jack up and deciding whether it was worth a fight, he reached down and grabbed his wand from the ground. "See that ye don't then." He grumbled, shoving his wand in his inner pocket and pulling his coat tighter before pushing past Jack, leaving the two of them alone in the courtyard.

Turning back to the girl, who was still trying to gather up the fliers scattered around on the damp, cold ground, Jack's expression softened. She couldn't be much older then himself, or even Sam for that matter, but she looked out of sorts and a bit bedraggled. Not that he knew what she normally looked like, not knowing her from Eve and all, but there was an aura of heaviness on her shoulders and he sensed that it wasn't just because she was having to pick grubby fliers off the ground. As shy as he felt around pretty girls, the need to comfort someone in such need was stronger. "'Ere, let me 'elp ya with that..." He offered,  crouching down next to her and sweeping up a handful of nearby fliers. Shuffling them back into a sheaf, he swallowed hard and added quietly "Y'allright?"

1.	Not intelligent
2.	Really excited/pleased
3.	Hit him in the face, basically

Fauna stepped back in surprise when instead of an apology from the stranger, she got blustering, posturing, and wand-brandishing thrown in her face. Her expression darkened. She crossed her arms and let him holler it out, reminded of Bagnold in one of his snits. Her hand inched closer to her wand just in case.

Spotting another bloke coming out of the pub, she began to feel more uneasy, thinking that he might be mates with Tall-Dark-and-Blustery. That thought was quickly dispelled when he stood up for her, sending the offender on his way. Her face flushed. Auror trainee or not, she didn't look like one. Though she felt like she could have handled it, Fauna avoided the newcomer's gaze, ducked her head and started picking up her fliers again.

"I'm ok, thanks." Her voice sounded steadier than she'd expected.

The damp fliers stuck to each other and to her fingers, leaving smudges of ink on her hands. She should have thought to put a weather-proof charm on them before venturing into Diagon. Fauna let out a small sigh, all but ready to go home and call it useless.

"Thanks," she said again, pushing away her embarrassment long enough to glance up and smile gratefully at the man. She stood, hugging the fliers to her. Now that she got a better look at him, she didn't know why she'd ever thought he might be in league with Blustery. He had a kind, honest face, with large, muppet-like eyebrows that sloped over large, expressive eyes.

"Someone really had a bug up his arse," she glanced down the way the man had gone, shaking her head.

"I'm ok, thanks."

“Ah… Yer welcome…” Jack mumbled, dipping his head to hide the pleased smile at the rare show of appreciation. Ears still a bit pink, he fell silent and helped her gather up the rest of the fliers. She seemed tense. Maybe even a bit humiliated. Had he insulted her in some way?

Jack was new to the concept of a strong, independent woman. His upbringing had been old-fashioned and he had been taught early on that his job was to protect his mother and sister, and all women by proxy, a lesson of which he had taken to heart. It wasn’t until he met Charlie that he learned that not all women wanted, or needed, to be saved. Try as he might, he still had a hard time telling when that was the case.

“Thanks”

Even though her gratitude seemed sincere this time, Jack couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed. “It weren’t nowt[1]…”  He shrugged, trying to find the right words “Ya could’ve taken ‘im. I bet ‘e only picked on ya cuz yer arms was full…” He looked up at her with a friendly smile, hoping he had chosen his wording wisely. Their gazes met and he froze, caught in a pair of brilliant, sky blue eyes. Charlie had taught him that you should never judge a woman by her appearance, But even he would have said she was beautiful. Jack just stared.

"Someone really had a bug up his arse,"

She finally broke the awkward gaze and looked over her shoulder, focusing on some distant point on the back wall of the courtyard, leaving Jack to continue staring unimpeded. It didn't dawn on him that he was being rude. He was only admiring her, after all, just with wide eyes and a slight curl at one corner of his gaping mouth, like he had seen the Mona Lisa for the first time.

Unabashed, he studied her and decided that her hair was his favorite part, despite it being a tangled mess. He bet it probably smelled lovely, like freshly baked biscuits or summat. He was tempted to lean forward and cross that half meter between them to test his theory, but even Jack, with his utter lack of social skills, knew that this would be construed as 'weird'.

Then it finally got through his thick skull that she had said something to him and he quickly tore his eyes away. "Ehm... Yeah... 'e was a bit of a prat, weren't 'e?" He mumbled quickly, snatching up one of the last fliers and focusing his attention on it instead. At first it was just so he wouldn't be tempted to stare at her again, but after he got an eyeful of a wolfs head and the word "werewolf", he found himself honestly intrigued. His brow knitted, he held up the paper, "Saws?... Wot's this about, then?"

1.	East Midland slang for "Nothing"

The way he stammered and paused like she often did made her instantly more comfortable. Fauna returned his reassurance with a softer smile than before, her grip on the fliers loosening. She still hated the fact that for every person who picked on her, there was at least one well-intentioned bloke who leapt to her defense, but that had less to do with this bloke in particular and more to do with her insecurities.

She felt him staring as she looked down the street where the man had disappeared. Fauna glanced back at him, eyes widening slightly, then glancing down and away. Even she couldn’t ignore the meaning of that dopey half-smile.

Before she could decide whether to rush off or stay, he asked about the fliers.

"Oh, um," Fauna’s expression brightened. "Students Against Werewolf Segregation." The words still stumbled off her tongue rather than rolled.

"It's a club I helped start my seventh year. Though I'm not really a student anymore," she shrugged her shoulders. "We tried to convince people to let werewolves attend Hogwarts with other students. Which worked, sort of. And we're trying to do some other things.”

SAWS had been in the Prophet a few times, but somehow she couldn’t picture him poring over the news with a strong cup of tea every morning.

Fauna tilted her head, studying him for a moment, her gaze curious and assessing. He wore simple muggle clothes. His accent sounded like he was from Leicester, or maybe Staffordshire. He only looked a year or two older than her, but she didn’t recognize him from Hogwarts, and she would have remembered his face and seemingly gentle (she would say Hufflepuffian) nature.

"Are you new to town?" Fauna wondered suddenly, then bit her lip, not intending to pry.

There was no word to describe the mix of emotions that welled up in the young werewolf as she explained the purpose behind SAWS. There was a good deal of confusion, and perhaps a little wariness as well, since he knew she was not a werewolf (He'd have smelled it on her if she was) and he had a hard time fathoming why a human would feel empathy for the monster that he became. Hell, he had a hard time with it himself. However, the fact that she was just a human and did feel empathy for his kind also gave him a sense of hope and optimism. So there were people in this world that truly understood and cared about the desperately lonely life of a werewolf. The thought made him feel... happy, for the lack of a better word.

Suddenly, she wasn't just a pretty girl that was nice to him, but rather a conscientious and just young woman who fought to protect the downtrodden.... who he also happened to find pretty. He wanted to tell her this, but Jack wasn't particularly eloquent, and in the end all he could manage was an infatuated smile and a softly murmured "Brilliant..."

"Are you new to town?"

After a moment of studying him, she abruptly changed the topic and he found himself the new focus of the conversation. "Ehm...Well..." he said shyly, ducking his head and scratching absentmindedly at one of the scars running along the back of his skull. He wasn't used to someone, let alone one of a female persuasion, showing him so much attention. "... Kinda, yeah." It was vague, but Jack wasn't sure what else to say. He didn't want to lie to her, especially when she had been so nice to him, but he had promised his father he wouldn't put his family in anymore danger, and that included not talking about them. It was the kind of promise he didn't take lightly.

However, he was abysmal at lying, which he made abuntantly clear with his sudden inability to meet her gaze. When he did try to glance up at her, he found those bright blue eyes so open and honest that he immediately felt guilty. She wouldn't lie to him like that, or so they seemed to say. Sucking in his lips, he decided to divulge just a but more information, to appease their demands "I've lived 'ere me whole life, really, just ain't never 'ad a chance to see Di'gon Alley. 'eard a lot about it though..." He studied the brick wall, breaking into a grin despite himself "I bet it's wicked, innit?"

Fauna's eyebrows drew together in mild confusion. She glanced away again, subconsciously giving him space to find the right words. He either stared too much or couldn't meet her eyes. If she didn't already think he was bashful, she might think he was hiding something, but he seemed... awed by SAWS, and a little awed by her looking like a yellow marshmallow in her jacket, and that was flattering.

"Oh," Fauna smiled back hesitantly. But where did he get his supplies? Where did he get his wand? Every witch or wizard visited Diagon Alley at some point in their lives, and that point was usually when they were eleven years old. Fauna assumed homeschooled kids ventured out into society too, even the snooty pureblood ones.

Then it dawned on her. Perhaps he was a squib. Or even a muggle. It wasn't unheard of; Sasha's sister worked at Reducto.

"Well, um, if you've never been to Diagon..." she trailed off, glancing past the courtyard.

"Do you know where you're going?" She paused, feeling like one of those annoying perky prefect types. "I mean, I could show you around. If you want?"

The wheels were turning. She could put up a few more fliers and find out more about the bloke who had stood up for her. If he was a muggle, squib, or just extremely sheltered, he could be easily ripped off wandering alone, or worse, wander right into Knockturn. Yes, of course that could happen. Because he hadn't just scared off that other stranger in a completely capable way.

"I'm Fauna," she introduced herself with another smile.

"Well, um, if you've never been to Diagon...Do you know where you're going?... I mean, I could show you around. If you want?"

The words had barely left her lips when Jack glanced up at her with candid eyes and nodded his head. "Yeah, alright then." he said quickly. He didn't need to be asked twice to spend a day with her. Besides, even if her company wasn't so desired, he still needed someone to let him into Diagon. It was all win-win for him.

"I'm Fauna,"

"...Fauna[1]..." He repeated slowly as he stared at some distant point over her shoulder with a discerning gaze, rolling the name around in his mouth like he was tasting a sweet. Then, after this brief moment of introspection, he nodded and turned to her with a smile, "I like it. It fits ya..." Taking her much slenderer and softer hand in his callused one, he shook it firmly but still gently "... I'm Jack."

Their eyes locked and he kept the handshake going a bit longer then socially acceptable, oblivious to any awkwardness it was causing between them. Then, after a moment, he realized what he was doing and quickly dropped her hand, the tips of his ears turning a shade pinker. "Ehm... so...." He changed directions as he abruptly turned back to the wall, tapping it. "Theres a trick t'this, yeah? Rog said there was..." 

---

About 3 minutes later, they were standing and gaping at the bustling high street of the wizarding world. Well, Jack was gaping anyways. He had grown up in a wizarding home, so it wasn't the colorful and twisted medieval architecture or the flamboyant robes swishing about the legs of the bustling witches and wizards or the fantastical creatures of muggle myth that wove their way between them that enthralled him. It was all of it, all together, wrapped in one whimsical package.

Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply, tasting the magic that permeated the air. It tasted of bitter herbs and dragon dung and octarine ash, mixed with the normal scents that followed any group of humans cobbled together. It wasn't what most people would describe as a 'good smell' but to Jack, it was incredible. He took a few more lingering breaths before sighing and opening his eyes, summing up his feelings in one frank word "Wicked."

1.	Pronounced something like 'Pho-Nah' in his accent

She smiled at the way he pronounced her name, how he gave it more thought than most people, and that thought wasn't to make fun of her.

"Jack," she repeated with a nod. Her slight Devonshire accent sounded less unique, in her opinion.

When he shook her hand, Fauna found it charmingly formal, but let out a nervous chuckle as he held on for a bit longer than necessary. Though he dropped her hand with an embarrassed mumble a few seconds later, she hoped he wasn't reading into her offer too much. Friendly rather than flirty; that's what she was aiming for at the moment. Knowing her, it just came across as awkward.

Fauna glanced at him quickly as he commented on the wall and his friend Rog, whoever that was. No wand. So he was a muggle or squib! Fauna decided not to mention it if he wasn't going to. She tapped the wall with her wand, led him through, and silently congratulated herself on her deduction skills.

He breathed in all the sighs and sounds of Diagon like an overgrown first-year. Fauna grinned, reminded of how enchanting the town could be.

"That's exactly how I felt when I first saw this place," she walked alongside him, shoving her hands in her pockets again and stuffing the fliers underneath one arm. Nope, she didn't learn.

"I was eleven. My mum was with me and she could barely wrap her head around it, but I was just so excited to be here. I wanted it to be real, so it became real, you know?"

Being muggleborn, Fauna could relate to how new this was to him, and thought that perhaps he'd feel more comfortable around her now.

"That's exactly how I felt when I first saw this place, I was eleven. My mum was with me and she could barely wrap her head around it, but I was just so excited to be here. I wanted it to be real, so it became real, you know?"

"Yeah..." Jack murmured before sighing, contentedly, his eyes wide with childlike awe as they drank in the glory that was Diagon Alley. Most witches and wizards would find this level of excitement a bit odd, but then, they were used to all the fantastic sights, sounds and smells. Jack, on the other hand, had only heard of the Alley before now, so it was the closest thing to heaven that he could imagine. It was difficult enough to take all of it in and wrap his head around it but Fauna's presence made it even more of a daunting task. He wasn't used to pretty girls paying him any mind. Usually the ones that did were either related to him, too young or the 'loose' kind that Charlie warned him to avoid.

Once, a couple years ago, when Jack had made the mistake of bringing home a girl who ran off with his favorite jacket and all of his money[1], Charlie took him aside and explained a little about woman to him. 'Find a woman who cares less about the state of her hair and makeup, and more about the plights of others. They are the keepers'. He recalled this conversation as he glanced over at Fauna, with her tangled hair and giant puffy jacket and fliers decrying the abuse of werewolves. Charlie would have liked her, he was sure of it. "...it's brilliant, innit?" He added, though his eyes were still locked on her.

Thankfully, before things got awkward, his attention was waylaid by something... delicious. The scent of vanilla came first, followed by eggs, flour, sugar, various berries, chocolate... the list went on. "...Cake." he said out of the blue before grabbing her wrist, grinning like a kid "Come on!..." There wasn't much time for her to think about her choices before before he pulled her through the surging crowds towards the origin of that delectable scent. He didn't stop until his nose was smooshed against the glass storefront, ogling the flaky pastries, fluffy cupcakes and still steaming pies resting in the window display. His mouth watered at the sight.

Glancing at Fauna, Jack dug in his pocket and pulled out a small handful of coins. Turning away, he counted the sickles and knuts that Roger had traded with him for some quid. It had been for him to get sometime nice for himself, for once, and Jack couldn't think of a nicer thing then sharing a warm piece of pie, with vanilla ice cream of course, with a girl like Fauna. He hoped it was enough for the both of them.

Jack shoved his money back into his pocket and left his hands there, feeling suddenly shy. He had never asked a girl to eat with him, on a date or otherwise, and he wasn't sure how to ask her. He didn't want to scare her off with his eagerness. "Th...those cakes look awfully good n'all..." He said slowly, trying not to look at her as he did so "... Would ya fancy one? I'd like t'buy ya one, if y'do...Not as a date or nowt..." He added quickly, worried he was coming on too strong. Charlie always said he was hopeless when it came to chatting up woman "... Just as... a thanks, fer being so nice to me n'all..."

1.	Which, admittedly, wasn't much, but it still was all he had

Fauna was still marveling at his ability to spot the cake in the window from so far away when he grabbed her and pulled her toward the shop. She followed along, a few fliers slipping out from under her am along the way. He went right up to the window, and Fauna couldn't help but raise her eyebrows. She looked even more confused when he turned away, checking his pockets.

At his shy offer, Fauna smiled slightly and glanced down. It was a good thing he reassured her that he wasn’t offering as a date, because she probably would have gotten nervous and awkward, and it was such a sweet thing for a near-stranger to do that she didn’t really want to refuse.

“Ok,” she told him after a moment’s hesitation with a warm smile. “Thank you,” Fauna added, thinking he'd looked at the coins because he wasn't used to using wizarding money, not because he didn't have a lot to spend.

As she opened the shop door and glanced back, she wondered if he had a lot of friends where he lived, and what his situation was. He hadn't needed to thank her for being nice. Feeling a touch sorry for him, Fauna offered to find an empty table as he paid for a dessert at the counter. On a Wednesday, it wasn't as crowded as it was on the weekends. She liked being able to kick back and relax a bit, take a break from work and the Radford house.

When he returned to the table, she sat up straighter, eyes lighting up at the sight of the pie.

"My flatmates are going to be jealous," she told him as she took a fork. "We're always grabbing last minute snacks at the Atrium, or getting coffee. Or it's my turn to cook when we're home, and that doesn't end well."

She hesitated before digging in. "Atrium, meaning at the Ministry." Fauna didn't know how much he knew and hoped he didn't think she was talking down to him.

"Flatmates, meaning, um, other Auror trainees."

She blushed and took a bite of pie, always expecting some form of disbelief when she said she worked on Level Two.

“Ok, Thank you,”

Staring at her, dumbfounded, Jack had to do a double-take when she opened the door and beckoned him in. He seriously had expected her to say no. "Really?" He said, hesitently, before breaking out in a broad smile "Okay then!" He didn't wait to be asked twice and rushed in before she could change her mind. "I'll grab the pies if ya could grab a table..."

He was still grinning like a fool when he approached the counter, where a doughy cheeked man whose small green eyes regarded him warily from their refuge behind a massive red nose and said gruffly "Yeh? How can I help ye, lad?". Jack didn't seem to notice as he stared up at the menu while digging in his pocket for coins. "Ehm... two apple tarts... with vanilla cream, please..." He said, putting down what he hoped would be enough before leaning forward resting his chin on his hand and nodding towards Fauna "See that gorgeous gel over there? She's with me..." he sighed happily. Sure, she wasnt with him in the true sense of the word, but he could pretend couldn't he?

The bakers expression softened slightly at this and he decided not to point out to Jack that he was a few sickles short. Instead, he pulled out two pieces of steaming hot apple pie and piled a huge scoop of vanilla ice cream on each one, adding a pinch of cinnamon for garnish. "There ya go lad... Ye and ye lass enjoy..." He said kindly. Jack's eyes lit up at the size of the pies, saying "Cheers!" before heading back towards Fauna.

The rotund baker watched the pair with a soft smile on his face, which grew at the delighted expression of the girl. Ah, he thought, young love.... before he glanced up at an old picture hanging on the wall, where a brighteyed woman with wild blond curls gazed lovingly back at him. He sighed and went back to kneading dough.

---

"My flatmates are going to be jealous. We're always grabbing last minute snacks at the Atrium, or getting coffee. Or it's my turn to cook when we're home, and that doesn't end well. Atrium, meaning at the Ministry."

Jack dug into the pie voraciously, only looking up from it now and then to nod encouragingly at her. He wanted to be polite and listen intently, and all, but he hadn't had a decent meal for a couple weeks now and the aroma of the pie wafting up at him was doing his head in. Each bite was like a party on his tongue and he sighed happily at the warmth that coursed through him with each bite.

"Flatmates, meaning, um, other Auror trainees."

“Yer an auror?” He paused as his brows shot up, more in intrigue than surprise, “… That’s wicked!..” Grinning, he glanced between her and the pie, trying to scoop out a bite while simultaneously gazing at her in admiration. “Ya must be dead clever, then, yeah? Me mum said ya ‘ad t’be brilliant with a wand t’be an auror…” Shoveling the lump of apples and icecream into his mouth, he chewed thoughtfully and then swallowed, adding quietly, “… Mebbe tha's why me da said I couldn’t be one…”

Fauna's eyebrows shot up at his enthusiastic reaction, her cheeks brighter at his compliment. When he mentioned his parents, her happy expression dimmed, and she gave him a sympathetic look, understanding what it felt like to be underestimated and put down like that - just not by her own family, luckily.

Jack seemed genuine and easygoing, with a childlike attitude. Fauna preferred to think that people like him simply spotted the good more than other folks - the yellow road underneath all the mud and dirt. That wasn't dumb, but admirable, especially if he'd had a rough life.

One thing was clear though: Jack was not a muggle! Not a squib, either, if his Da had mentioned careers (however disparagingly). That really made her wonder about him never being to Diagon or passing through the wall. Fauna wanted to ask how he grew up, but didn't know how to just yet.

So she chowed down on a delicious bite of pie and told him more about herself.

“I’m not very, you know, academic? Kinda scraped by in some of my classes, to even get into the training program.”

She wiped her mouth on her napkin and glanced up shyly.

“My mum would be happier if I did something muggle – or at least safe,” she clarified.

“It’s like, why did I go to wizarding school then? Now that I've graduated, I have to tell all my relatives I’m taking art at a university,” Fauna smiled. “Gets a little awkward when they ask about paintings or music stuff.”

Hobbies she rarely had time for anymore, and missed a bit from time to time. Still, it was all about choices, and she could have stayed home and done something artsy this afternoon, but she'd chosen to go out in the wet muck and put up SAWS fliers instead. Here, sitting in the warm bakery with a nice bloke, she didn't regret it!

“It’s like, why did I go to wizarding school then? Now that I've graduated, I have to tell all my relatives I’m taking art at a university, Gets a little awkward when they ask about paintings or music stuff.”

"Why... would ya 'ave to.... " Jack said slowly, trying to wrap his head around this statement. Why would she have to disguise going to Hogwarts as going to an art school? Wouldn't that be less desirable? He remembered what his father had told about art and artists: 'Artists are bottom feeders who thrive off of others hard work because they are either too lazy or too incapable of making a real living.' he had said, right before he tossed the little wooden doll Jack had made for Samantha into the hearth. Jack looked at Fauna, brows furrowed quizzically. She didn't look like a bottom feeder, nor did she look lazy or incapable.

Then, like mollasses through a straw, it slowly dawned on him that she must have muggle parents. That made a lot more sense, considering. He quickly chewed the piece of pie he had been working on in thought and swallowed it, exclaiming with a bright smile, "Oh! Ya must be a mudblood then, yeah?"

The moment the word left his lips, the room fell deathly silent. He could practically hear the glares fixated on their table. After returning a few dark looks with a glare of his own, Jack turned back to Fauna with a bemused expression, "What's their problem then?" He murmured, jerking his head towards a couple nearby who were glaring daggers at them. He shook his head in disgust at their reaction to her announcement, " Who cares if ya 'ave muggle parents... s'nothin' t'be shamed of."

Fauna’s eyes widened, her fork halfway to her mouth. When pie began sliding off her fork and onto the table, she set it down with a clatter. This had been a terrible idea. She was a shitty judge of character. But just as she was about to sink into her seat and pretend that none of this was happening (or bolt out the door), he seemed to not understand what he’d done wrong.

Fauna glanced around anxiously and then leaned forward, whispering, "You know that's not a... good thing to say, don’t you? You know, that word?"

'Mudblood', she mouthed.

The smile earlier, the scowl and confusion on his face now – it all seemed genuine, but Fauna didn’t know whether to believe it or assume that he was playing some awful prank on her. She’d heard stories and jokes about backwards wizarding families who secluded their children in little bubbles where they could spout hateful things without being challenged. At least the purists who sent their children to Hogwarts exposed them to other people, if only to better hide their contempt underneath social graces when they felt like it. Fauna had not heard that word in years.

Hunched in her seat, she covered her flushed face with one hand and shook her head, not at all hungry anymore.