6 pm, 25 Stuart Road, Acton. House plan can be found here.

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Arcturus stood back and observed the dining room. He had spent most of yesterday and today setting it up for his blind St Mungo's date - it had at least taken off the anxiety of wondering who she really was. Now that all he had to do was wait for the main dish to finish cooking, it was starting to creep its way back into his head.

When was the last time he'd ever had a date? In Hogwarts? Surely that couldn't have been the last one. Arcturus stared absently at the ceiling until the little Sounding Hourglass[1] in the kitchen started jingling shrilly to indicate that his cooking was nearing its end. With his thoughts interrupted, he sighed and made his way into the kitchen to silence the Hourglass and check on the food.

He was now wishing he'd moved out earlier, or had given a location other than his house, though he hadn't gone out enough to spot good places to eat out. The Hollingburys' house was set in a very Muggle area. What kind of impression would it give? The interior was less Muggle, thankfully - it had to be, given that there was a very magical housewife living here.

His parents had already agreed to clear out of the house when they learned of the date he'd set - in fact, they hadn't been in the whole time. Lydia had gone to Greece for a week and would be returning the next day. Mordecai, for today, had gone out to do some duelling in private[2]. Both of them had wished him luck.

Arcturus peered out at the Bush's shaking mass of leaves for a minute through the window on the back door, hoping his date would not notice it. It was still technically winter, so there were no flowers - shame, he did love the scent.

Everything was almost ready. Even the table was set. The Hollingburys' house was homely and neat by default, so he didn't have to worry much about that.

Well, there was one more thing.

He headed to the living room and poked his head in. Rustle was curled up in his favourite spot by the fireplace. His contented yellow gaze met Arcturus' eyes and his huge ears swivelled around to face his owner.

"I don't want you to get into mischief, okay?" Arcturus said to him. "Apart from giving her a sniff or two, you're not going to attack her either. If you do, I'm shutting you in my bedroom until she leaves."

Rustle's tail twitched in reluctant compliance. Satisfied, Arcturus left the kneazle to doze and checked himself in the mirror in the hallway. He was so nervous, but there wasn't much he could do now except be himself.

1.	I am the Compendium article
2.	Lydia banned anyone from duelling in the back garden after Mordecai accidentally hexed her Bobbing Bush.

When Jacqueline apparated down the street of Stuart Road, she pursed her lips. The area was quite obviously inhabited by muggles, and why any self-respecting wizard would make his residence here was quite beyond the Unspeakable. She glanced around the deserted lane, checking for prying eyes – a spell of forgetfulness on her tongue. She’d have been a tad more careful had she been aware of the situation, but what’s done is done.

The French woman was secretly excited about this date, though if you were to ask her about it directly, the witch would have simply glared and then rolled her eyes. Being a powerful and secretive witch wasn’t exactly helpful in the dating department – though if we’re being completely honest, those things were rather minor details when compared with her difficult personality. She’d long given up on marriage again, she’d been down that road and though love was wonderful, it wasn’t worth the pain that came with the absence. That being said… she still thoroughly enjoyed the male form, and she truly hoped that she hadn’t bid on some old geezer that couldn’t keep up with Jacqueline physically or intellectually.

Jacqueline made her way down the lane, walking carefully to keep from tripping in her heels. The secretiveness of their meeting was rather exhilarating, and though Jacqueline worked with mysteriousness daily, secrets still gave her a chill up her spine and brought a faint smile to her lips. Upon the steps of 25, the Unspeakable raised her thin arm and knocked loudly upon the door with three sharp staccato whacks. She let out a breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and lowered her hand slowly back to her side.

Hopefully this wouldn’t be a complete waste of time.

Arcturus jumped at the knocks, and then buried his face in one hand momentarily in exasperation at himself. He really had to stop this social anxiety malarkey before it had him by the throat and put a permanent crimp on his social life.

Before he could open the door, Rustle had already leapt to his paws and padded to the door. The kneazle sat in front of the door, just out of the way, and curled his tail around himself as he waited for his chance to analyse the visitor. Arcturus shook his head in amusement and opened the door.

He hadn't quite expected the appearance of the much-anticipated date on his doorstep. She seemed older than he'd expected her to be - in fact, she reminded him of a particularly stern teacher. Then again, given the power of her knocks she must have had quite a wrist. He resisted the urge to glance at her hands just to check if they were okay - being a healer had become something of a bad habit - and gave her his best smile, which was not hard for him.

"Hi, you must be Jacqueline," he said, opening the door wider and stepping back so that she could at least get a foot, and hopefully the rest of her, through the doorway. "I'm Arcturus. Please do come in, and mind the kneazle; he's always this curious when it comes to people he's never met before."

Rustle had got off his backside, his tail twitching in uncertainty as he sniffed the new visitor gingerly, careful not to actually touch her with his nose. After a few minutes he looked up at Arcturus and purred softly before moving to one side, his tail now straight up. He did not sense anything to mistrust; good. Arcturus' nerves were already fraying and it was taking him a lot of effort to not go and freak out quietly in the bathroom. Curse this social anxiety!

Arcturus shut the door behind her. "I apologise," dear Circe I'm not at work, 'sorry' would have sufficed...AUGH I'm doing it again, "for not telling you that I live in a Muggle area." The effort he was investing in his smile was a solid way of keeping his sanity intact. "I hope your journey here was all right, this area is really quite safe and I think the Muggles here just assume they're seeing things if they notice anything funny going on." Hopefully the house was magical enough for his visitor's tastes.

He wasn't entirely sure of how to casually speak to a person who looked like the woman standing in front of him. She just reminded him of a schoolteacher, period. His memories of Muggle preschool were ragged at best and disintegrating at worst, but some things just stick. At least she wasn't giving him déja vú, and he was thankful for that.

Best to keep talking. And moving.

"Just follow me." He gestured towards the living room. "The dining room's right through here. Mind the kneazle, again - Rustle seems to be very interested in you, I think. That's quite rare of him."

The kneazle was following Jacqueline's heels fairly closely, watching her with big yellow eyes. Arcturus chuckled in amusement at the sight of him and turned to head into the living room, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out in a bid to calm the barrage of rapid-fire anxiety-stricken thoughts running about in his head.

A sigh escaped the French witch’s mouth as she entered the home. The clacking of her heels was muffled considerably by the carpeted entryway, and the severe age difference between she and her date made the whole thing almost comical. As comical as his randomly colored hair. Why in Agrippa’s name would one dye half of their head white and the other half black? Someone should tell the boy that even if it was currently the ‘style’ it wasn’t cute. Not cute at all.

The decorum in the house was tasteful at least. A wizarding home in muggle locations… it wasn’t an unknown thought, but few pulled it off well. Mostly, wizarding families that lived in muggle areas lived like muggles – doing everything the non-magical way, and Jacqueline loathed those people. If they didn’t plan on using their wands, they should just give them up and become muggles. Next Jacqueline knew, she was being bombarded by both the man and the pet.

“Oui, I’m Jacqueline, it’s a pleasure,” Though she was tempted to turn tail and walk from the home, a smile lifted her features. It had been a very long time since Jacqueline had been intimate with anyone, even if it were something as simple as a dinner, and even the most antisocial needed human attention sometimes. The kneazle, though, she could do without. She shook her foot menacingly at the creature, in hopes that he’d take the hint and scurry away, but to no avail. The animal apparently thought she was in a playful mood and followed her around, sniffing and batting at her shoes. If he wasn’t careful, he’d have a punctured tail.

She wasn’t sure what to say, honestly, so instead kept her mouth shut. The job of an unspeakable made one use as little words as possible, to know that words had power and meaning, one should never use them willy-nilly, bandying them about without reason or purpose. “Ze house is very nice, even if it is in an undesired neighborhood,” Was that rude? Jacqueline couldn’t be sure, but perhaps her thick French accent would take the edge off any insult that might have been made. She zipped her lips and followed Arcturus toward the dining room.