After jogging the last few paces to the Three Broomsticks, Sasha paused just outside the door long enough to take several deep breaths and brush the non-existent lint from his double-breasted coat and straighten his already straight bow tie.[1] Even before speaking with Professor Reid, Sasha had already planned on dressing smartly for their fitting appointment with Darian Morgan earlier that morning.  That that meant he'd be equally smartly dressed now was quite fortuitous. 

After slowing his breath to a reasonable, non-post-hurrying rate, Sasha pushed his way into the Three Broomsticks and scanned the crowded tables for the familiar blond head.  He spotted the squib and crossed the room, dropping into the chair opposite her with an awkward, scrunched, half-contained grin. 

"Allo," he offered.  The term was proving to be far too long; it was so good to see Abby, again.  "You made it."  Professor Reid had ensured him she would. 

"Are you hungry?  Can I get you anything?  How are you?" he asked in quick succession, nodding towards the bar. 

1.

Outfit

"Just a hug!" Fair enough warning. Abby hopped up, hugged him while he was still seated (exercising enough restraint not to tip back his chair), and sat down again, grinning.

She had missed him! Almost two months had passed since they’d last seen each other at her birthday party, which had been lots of fun but wasn’t exactly conducive to catching up properly. Though Abby hoped to see some of her other friends this weekend, today was just about Abby-Sasha. Sabby? Abasha?

A half-empty Butterbeer already sat on the table between them. She had gotten here early, which Sasha could attest rarely happened.

"You look dapper," Abby nodded at the shiny buttons on his coat. "How long have you been up? Did you sleep at all? Or did I get enough sleep for the both of us? 'Cause I woke up at nine. That's really impressive for me." It was too! At least on the weekends.

He seemed almost as awake and energetic as she was, judging by the rapid questions he’d greeted her with and the flush in his cheeks (though that might be a result of the cold wind).

Technically, the warning wasn’t entirely necessary – though, as usual, it was appreciated.  Sasha had had enough experience with Abby’s attack hugs and her persistence with offering them, with or without permission.  He’d gotten used to them and actually didn’t mind them.  But, fear that Abby would start recommending everyone hug him at random had limited Sasha’s desire to admit as much.  But, he returned the hug as best he could from his seat, returning Abby’s grin.
 
“Oh,” Sasha said, glancing down at his coat, blushing slightly again despite himself.  “Thank you.  I – I had an appointment with Mr. Darian Morgan this morning.  I can’t go to a tailor looking like a slob.”   
 
Sleep.  The sheepish, half-apologetic grin was, at first, the only answer Sasha offered.  The amount of sleep he got at night had, indeed, been slowly diminishing as the term wore on.  When Mr. Morgan first taught him all the various sleep-evading tactics, Sasha had tried to diligently get at least a couple hours of sleep a night.  But, as midterms and exams grew closer, more and more sleep-void nights had been creeping in.  “I saw the sunrise.  I’m looking forward to the holidays.”  Sort of.  In a vague, still not sure what to expect way.
 
“Nine!”  Sasha answered, happy to divert the question back to Abby.  “I am impressed.  That’s a whole three hours before noon.  How many alarms did you have to set?”
 
“Do you have any plans for today?”  Sasha asked, very much hoping the answer was ‘no.’  Or, at least, they were flexible enough. 

Abby nodded, not surprised that Sasha had dressed up to visit the tailor. It was a very Sasha thing to do.

It was good that he was looking forward to the holidays, because she was too. He deserved a happy, drama-free season this time.

“Only one alarm!” She pretended offense. That alarm was furry, slobbery, and went by Roxy. “I do have to wake up during the week at a normal hour, you remember.”

At his question about plans, she paused to sip her butterbeer.

“Oh, I’ve got a full day ahead. That’s why I got here early.”

She looked at him mischievously. “’A full day of bothering you. We’re going to hang out, right? No homework allowed.”

That was the impression she'd gotten from Aileen, at least. Her older sister had poked her head in about a dozen times this morning, making suggestions as Abby was getting ready. Put your hair up, it'll get it out of your face! Wear that blue dress. Remember your boots, it's slippery out there.

Abby was suspicious but had not yet jumped to conclusions, considering that Aileen had been acting especially batty this week anyway.

"Normal is relative.  But, I do remember very well," Sasha confirmed with a grin.  They did have very different ideas of what a normal hour was but Sasha did know Abby was up for breakfast during the week.  Especially once Abby had been initiated to the art of text messaging (especially the joys of contacting someone for the most mundane of reasons), Sasha got fairly regular assessments of the squib's various meals.  Often from his own temporarily hijacked phone. 

He did refrain from pointing out that it wasn't during the week, though.  He was glad she was here at whatever hour.

"You rarely bother me," Sasha admitted, quietly, shrugging.  In fact, he missed it.  Quite a bit.  "But no, no studies.  I don't even have my bag," Sasha announced, gesturing to the floor.  "And, ..."  Okay.  So, there were a few flashcards in his pocket but they would remain there. 

The Ravenclaw got to his feet and crossed the room to the bar, returning a moment later with coffee.  Glancing as discretely as possible over Abby's shoulder as the barkeep disappeared into the back room.  "How are things back in London?" Sasha asked, hoping to keep Abby's attention from wandering too much.

Abby smiled, glad to hear it. She never would have thought that, with their differences, Sasha would have become her best friend. But he was.

When Sasha returned with his coffee, she refrained from joking about how he must be subsisting on caffeine. Instead, she tilted her head and launched into an update.

“Good! Internship is still going well. I’ve not gotten canned yet,” she said cheerfully.

“I’ve been hanging out with Jacoba. I don’t know if that should worry you or make you happy,” Abby teased. “You dodged a hex though. I asked if she had a baby picture of you and she said no.”

She covered her mouth with her hand and giggled.

“Oh, and I need to introduce you to Roger over break. He’s a squib I met. Around my age. Cusses like a thrown gnome, but really nice.”

A lamb in a leather jacket, that one. Toward her, anyway! Obnoxious blokes in pubs would likely describe him differently.

"You won't get canned," Sasha insisted with a grin.  "From what I can tell, they're fairly un-can-y on Level 5. Think it comes with the whole international thing."  Granted, most of Sasha's time there had been restricted to the Languages and Translations office but he was still fairly familiar with several of the people in her office. 

"You know, if I go back to interning with Storm and Murray-Harker," - apparently, a bit of a family reunion.  And, with Douglas and Trevor Reid over in Trading, even more so.  "-we'll be interning on the same floor at the Ministry." 

It wasn't quite going to Hogwarts together but it was close. 

Oh goodness.  Abby and Jacoba and baby pictures.  "Luckily, all the family photos are back at the house.  And, she generally doesn't go there.  So, we're both spared.  They are really not that exciting." 

"What does he do?" Sasha asked about this mysterious Roger, glancing again over the Abby's shoulder as the barkeep neared the table. 

"Excuse me, miss," The fellow interrupted, only tossing a brief, annoyed scowl in Sasha's direction.  They'd been much more amenable to such special orders over at Madam Puddifoot's.  But, there was little that couldn't be arranged with a sufficient bribe.  "But, if you're Miss Abigail Reid, this was left for you earlier today.  We don't know from whom.  Thank you." 

The fellow turned set the wrapped, square package on the table and shuffled back to the bar.  Sasha took a sip of his coffee until he remembered he should be looking confused, too, and stared at the box.  "Weird.  Don't you think?"

Her and Sasha interning on the same floor? The Ministry wouldn't know what hit them.

"He's a bartender. At a muggle pub." Abby hadn't visited Roger there yet. She would have said more, if the barkeep hadn't neared the table with a wrapped box.

Her eyes lit up. "What? Really?" But they must have left a clue! Abby glanced at Sasha, who did not seem as surprised as he should be.

"Are you in on this?" She grinned, glancing around the pub in case the gift-giver was watching. "But my birthday was in October! And it's not Christmas yet. Is this an early present? I'm going to be seeing everyone over the holidays."

Her fingers on the ribbon, she paused, peering at it more closely. There were no holes in the box. It didn't move. Probably not a Runespoor then. You never knew!

"If it's bad, stun it, ok?"

That taken care of, Abby tore apart the packaging paper, happily throwing it into a haphazard pile on the table. She flipped open the box, removed the tissue paper, and stared at the music box within.

"Ooooooo!"

Glancing at Sasha, she lifted it up with care and studied the intricate scene lit up inside. "Wow. How did they do this? It's like a dollhouse, but in a music box, and do they move in there? Oh, they're all couples! Except-"

Abby suddenly looked very concerned. "Aw, that one is dancing alone!" How tragic!

Abby was hanging out with a barkeep?  For a brief moment, Sasha looked on the verge of commenting, but he opted for a sip of coffee instead. 

The Ravenclaw sat back and watched, physically trying to fight the telltale grin that wanted to betray him.  Of course, it was probably obvious by now but that didn't mean he had to admit it.  "In on what?" he asked with a shrug as Abby asked about his involvement.  Feigning ignorance seemed easier and less like outright lying than trying to deny his involvement. 

"If it's bad, stun it, ok?"

"Na klar[1]," he offered with a laugh.  Knowing what was in the package, he didn't bother to point out he couldn't use magic outside of school. 

Sasha took another sip as Abby opened the package.  The coffee cup now sipped empty, Sasha set it to the side and leaned forward, again, to watch as Abby looked over the panorama and, very quickly, noticed the first of four poor blokes dancing alone.  "It moves," he confirmed.  "There's a little crank on the side." 

Or, it was supposed to move, but for the time being, turning the crank would do little more than send the first poor, dateless sod to the front of the scene to hold up a miniature, rolled scroll.  Not much larger than a fortune cookie fortune, there'd been an unfortunately small amount of space to write.  But, engorging the paper than shrinking it, again, had worked wonderfully.

"Sweet as honey, yet sour as a lemon
My date left, to finish her shopping
Three hours have past as I stand alone
Can you help her find her way home."

1.	Na klar - Sure thing

Sasha seemed far too amused. He had to know something! This was such a beautifully made box, and someone (or multiple someones) must have put a lot of thought into it. Thought about her.

"Is this a romantic thing? I hope so." At his direction, she found the crank on the side, turned it, and put her face up close to the scene, expecting music or dancing or something along those lines. Instead, the tragic, single figure glided to the front and opened a scroll. A scroll with a riddle!

“Look, there’s a riddle!” She told him, then read it out loud.

A moment passed. Thoughts racing, Abby lifted up the box, checking under and around it, poking and prodding it gently. No hidden compartments, dials, or other cranks. No lost date, that she could see!

“I think I’m supposed to go somewhere! To find the girl! Am I the girl? I’m right here,” Abby waved her hand in the air, giggling giddily, then put it down when the waiter thought she needed something.

“Sweet as honey, sour as lemon – Honeydukes? It could be Honeydukes, right? Let’s go!”

Standing up so fast that she almost tipped her stool over, Abby shrugged on her cloak and cradled the box with both arms, about to dash out of the pub.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

Abby doubted it. She was on a mission now!

"Is this a romantic thing? I hope so."

In close succession, surprise, confusion and alarm flickered across the Ravenclaw's features as his mind frantically tried to interpret and, subsequently, find a contextually-appropriate response.  Even he had more than enough social grace to know 'yes' was not the right answer.  'No' seemed equally inappropriate.  And, he didn't want to casually dismiss it with some uncomfortable joke.  So, instead, he lifted his coffee cup, remembered it was empty, and set it back down. 

Hopefully, Abby was as distracted by the box as she seemed to be.  Chances were, the question had been just another random Abby-ism - a random thought that had managed to sneak through her amusingly almost non-existent filter. 

But, by the time the squib had started in with her list of theories, the array of emotions had almost completely dissipated. 

"Unless you're the size of a chess piece, I don't think you're who he's looking for," Sasha said, grinning as Abby tried to get the motionless figurine's attention.  Of course, the barkeep proved infinitely more responsive than the music box.

In the next breath, Abby was on her feet and pulling her coat on.  "Not at all, I haven't been there, yet," Sasha admitted.  It was an almost complete truth.  Candy stores weren't, exactly, his thing - as was probably not a surprise to anyone.  He'd gotten to town early to stage the whole 'rescue mission' - early enough that he'd caught the four shop owners on their way in to work.  The older witch opening up Honeydukes had been much more amenable to the plan than the wizard here at the Three Broomsticks.  "It seems like as good a place as any to look." 

"Wonder if you need a ransom."  Sasha shrugged, as he followed Abby out of the pub. 

"Unless you're the size of a chess piece, I don't think you're who he's looking for," Sasha said, grinning as Abby tried to get the motionless figurine's attention.

“Hey, no short jokes,” she grinned back.

Despite her hyper focus on the box, she did catch him say that he hadn’t been to Honeydukes yet, which meant he likely hadn’t created this box and the game along with it. Unless, of course, it was a group effort and he’d asked a friend to visit the shops for him, or he was in on it somehow but acting as a messenger. Abby stole as many glances as she dared at him as they headed out of the pub and into the cold air, her cloak flapping in the wind. Would Tyr go to such trouble? No, only for Magdalena. Would Roger, with the reference to lemons? No, as intelligent as he was, she couldn’t see him writing a poem to save his life. A crude, funny message in a beer bottle - now that was more his style.

She would have ran to the shop, but because she was carrying the box, Abby stepped quickly and carefully, avoiding icy patches and the droves of students. Honeydukes itself was even more crowded. Abby maneuvered around the aisles, keeping Sasha’s comment about ransom in mind.

“Could you grab a bag of lemon drops for me? Please? Thanks!” She tilted her head toward the top shelf.

“Hmm. I could buy more than one bag just in case.”

Abby seriously contemplated it as she looked up, mentally calculating how much all the bags of lemon drops would cost.

“What if I’m picking the wrong candy?” She murmured, looking around the whole shop now, gaze lingering on the chocolate soldier figurines lined up in front of the window. “I could get some of those, too!” Abby pointed. “Little figurines! Except I don’t see girl ones." She turned around, indecisively. "Maybe they have honey bears in here!”

Abby would probably spend the entire contents of her wallet in one shop if Sasha didn’t stop her!

"Stating facts.  Not necessarily making jokes," Sasha said, quietly, trying to appear serious.  Sasha cast a quick sideways glance at Abby, but the squib had already returned her attention to the box and the quest. 

Honeydukes was about what Sasha had been expecting.  Bright colors, lots of hyper young people milling around like agitated ants and the air was thick with the smell of sugar, butter and ... tang.  A pair of third year girls pushed past him, the tips of their fingers glistening with the tell-tale signs of stickiness.  One of the girls must have caught the look of discomfort and disgust on Sasha's face as he tried to contort his body to avoid those fingers coming near his coat.  The girl hesitated in her tracks, staring up at him, before whispering and giggling feverishly with her friend as they scurried away. 

The appeal of this particular shop was, admittedly, still as lost on him as it was before he'd come in. 

"I ... lemon drops?"  Confused, Sasha watched Abby until he realized he'd taken his ransom comment more seriously than he'd intended.  In hindsight, it was a clever idea and one he might have planned for if he'd had more time.  But, he could improvise.  Somehow.  "Unless you're planning on laying siege to free her-" Sasha commented, lifting one of the chocolate soldiers and peering at it through the clear window.  "Maybe offer a trade?  Mercenary for a princess?" 

The Ravenclaw's mind was only half on his current task as he pulled various packets and jars of sweets from the shelf as directed.  He circled around the back of one of the displays, under the pretense of looking for honey bears and tried to catch the eye of the older witch.  Given the woman's scowl of confusion, she'd been unable to properly interpret any of his vague gesturing, but she finally finished up her current transaction and stepped up towards Abby. 

"Can I help you, dear?"  The woman asked.  "Are you able to find everything alright?"

Abby realized that she might be a tad too overenthusiastic as Sasha, the voice of reason, piped up. Perhaps she didn't need to buy out the whole store. Maybe a few things!

The harried shopkeeper stopped in front of her (before she could mangle more displays), asking if she needed help.

"Yes!' She said with much relief, then lowered her voice and leaned in, in case the box-giver/riddler was watching.

"Could you tell me if any of these sweets have notes attached to them? Like romantic notes? Because I'm on a quest to find the person - I hope it's a guy! - who gave me this," she showed her the music box. "Isn't it brill! And I have all of this to trade!" She gestured at Sasha the candy pack horse.

If it turned out that Honeydukes was the wrong choice, or the shopkeeper knew nothing, Abby was making a total fool of herself. But she was alright with that. The reward outweighed the risk!

"Maybe a mysterious stranger has passed through here. Tall? Handsome?" She paused for half a second. "Like him!"

Jerking her thumb at Sasha, she grinned, but grinned nonchalantly, curious about how he'd react. And if she'd be able to make any sense out of his reaction.

The witch followed Abby's lead and leaned in when she did.  It took only a moment for the woman to take a closer look at Sasha and for recognition to dawn on her features.  But, almost as quickly, she appeared confused.  This was the first time she would have heard anything about a ransom.  And, Sasha was fully aware of how suspicious this was probably all sounding.  The armful of candy Abby was offering hadn't even been purchased and, therefore, still technically belonged to the shopkeeper. 

"We do plan on buying it," Sasha insisted, quickly, nodding his head.  And, then, apparently giving it back as a ransom? 

"There are no notes, dear," the shopkeeper offered, turning back towards Abby.  "But, I am aware of the quest you're on.  A young man was by here, earlier.  He said someone would come asking for her."  The shopkeeper looked between Sasha, Abby and the armful of candy and a small grin settled on her features.

"Maybe a mysterious stranger has passed through here. Tall? Handsome?  Like him!"

Color flooded Sasha's face and he glanced, with unmasked surprise, at Abby before quickly taking considerable interest in the display of ... well, they turned out to be little, pink strawberry sugar quills. 

After taking a moment, seemingly for her own amusement, the shopkeeper came to his rescue and gestured Abby towards the counter.  "Come.  I have who you're looking for.  But, you're supposed to ask for her by name." 

Sasha moved up towards the counter and unloaded the small pile of sweets and tugged a couple galleons from his pocket.