It had begun with small things, an unwashed glass, leaving the newspaper on the sofa, not drawing the curtains fully open when daylight was streaming into the room. Then she'd put her foot in the cat food while not paying attention to where she was going in the kitchen, finished the last of something and not got to a shop to replace it before Arcturus wanted to use it in cooking.

She wasn't keeping a tally at all, but when the relationship between the two of them began to sour rapidly (indicated by the number of words uttered reducing, avoiding each other in the house, jokes unlaughed at... were they ever laughed at?) she began to wonder if her housemate was.

It wasn't for the lack of trying. Sharing a space with someone was hard. She'd become so used to living alone, but London was far more expensive, and she didn't earn quite the same amount as she had managing the apothecary back home. Also it was lonely. She liked to talk to Arcturus, if he'd converse, she liked to have visitors, include him, ask his opinion on dinner, eat together if it was all possible, but she was wondering if she'd got fanciful over an entirely different wizard once they shared the same space.

She supposed it wasn't helping matters that she hoped for a glimpse of him half dressed, or dropped flirtatious comments, ended her notes with kisses...

But honestly it was hard to stop herself.

“I don't get it,” she told Johann over coffee in Alohomocha after work, wondering what she would manage to irritate her housemate over that evening once she returned, “I do the washing up, I clean... sometimes.” But the lanky idiot wasn't much help there at all, so she had returned home, made too much noise and interrupted his book with questions of whether he wanted a drink, or if he fancied inviting people over for dinner. Neither had got a good response.

Stubborn, persistent, Elixa formed a plan. That night she would be home earlier than Arcturus, so she would clean the place with magic top to toe (she'd double checked her charms just in case) and do his washing. He'd like that surely? She could run him a bath, and then spend the rest of the night in silence watching him read his book, like he did practically every night with the cat.

The cleaning went swimmingly, only one broken glass, which was mended, and she took up to her room a pile of things from the living room which she had left hanging about. They were all deposited on the end of her bed, where she figured she would return later to attend to.

A little while later she carried freshly dried linen and robes up the stairs and nudged open the door to the other bedroom, carrying it in. She leaned over and sniffed the bedsheets, which smelled a little like the laundry basket could get, and made short work of the bedlinen, switching it for a new set, just because. Who didn't like to sleep in fresh sheets?

As she plumped up the pillows, she realised this was the longest she'd been in the room short of when they'd been in the process of moving in, and her eyes began to roam. She'd put away his robes, that would help, and give her an excuse to look in the cupboard, and the socks in the drawers.

But when the door to the room came open, the scene that met Hollingbury was of a freshly made bed, a small pile of socks on the foot, and a loose bundle of the old bedsheets on the floor, and Elixa fishing one of the robes she'd knocked off a hanger onto the floor up to rehang, her head half in his wardrobe, looking like she was having a good rummage. She jumped out of her skin, clutching the retrieved robe in one hand and the hanger in the other.

“Merlin, ring a bell! Is that the time already? I was just putting away your – Arc?”

For some absurd reason, he didn't look very pleased with her.

Arcturus wasn't entirely certain about what Elixa had been doing lately. He'd made it clear that he didn't like mess - well, not on his side of the flat, but at the same time he also preferred to keep the communal areas clean. He was, admittedly, a lot better at housekeeping than Elixa was. His mother had left the house cleaning to him often, a responsiblity that as a teenager he quite enjoyed since it made him feel more of an adult.

But of late his housemate appeared to be making a mess, unintentionally or intentionally he wasn't sure. She had the annoying ability to make noise at exactly the wrong moment, it seemed. The one thing he was completely uncertain about was how she seemed to understand very little of what he really just wanted to do and why, evidenced in how she never asked him what he really wanted to do or tried to plan things with him in advance. He understood her personality, but frankly it was like having a cat and a dog live in the same place together.

These days he had been coming back more tired than usual so he had very little energy to spare for her. He'd realised that even on Friday nights, when Johann came in to spend some time with him, he was so tired that he just fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow much to the dismay of the linguist. He did make up for it by waking up in time for a bit of morning lovemaking, but he remained apologetic whenever he fell asleep even before Johann started talking to him.

It was the same tonight. As the fire roared and parted to allow him to step out, the only thing on his mind was to put his shoulder bag down, take a shower and then probably have an early night. He was only thankful he had eaten dinner in the hospital; he couldn't quite possibly manage to cook in his current state of mind.

He didn't expect to find Elixa in his room. In his room. Arcturus stood at the door and stared. It looked like she'd been cleaning up the place, which was at least some effort and improvement, but...

She. Was. In. His. Room. And what in Mount Olympus was she doing in his wardrobe?

“Merlin, ring a bell! Is that the time already? I was just putting away your – Arc?”

He stood there in chilly silence and surveyed his room. Arcturus was not only renown for his poker face, but the ability to cause room temperatures to plummet when he was not in a good mood. Nothing else looked disturbed, thank Zeus for that, but it didn't improve the situation or change it in any way from "Elixa is in my room with her head in my wardrobe" to "Elixa is standing outside and leaving my room alone".

And maybe the temperature had literally plummeted, because there was a sudden frostiness about the air. This was just the start, though. If it went any further, frost crystals could start forming on the window. He'd accidentally done that in adolescence, when sulking after not getting something he'd wanted; Arcturus had some control over it but he couldn't guarantee he had it now.

"What are you doing in my room?" he said curtly. "No, scratch that, what are you doing in my wardrobe? Looking for hairs for telltale signs of my current partner?" He was still slightly sore over that; Elixa had probably just been inquisitive at the time but her tone had been unforgettably accusing. "I hope you haven't messed up the order I put my clothes in."

"Hairs?" Elixa replied, somewhat horrified, she peered down at the robe in her hands to see if it had picked up cat hair or something, causing the comment. Apart from being rumpled and a little askew on the hanger, it was fine, and that was easily fixed.

For a moment after she gaped like a goldfish, feeling incredibly awkward. What did she have to do exactly? The look her housemate was giving her looked like she'd just murdered his first-born. It was verging on scary.

"No!" The apothecary protested eventually, "if I wanted to find that out, I'd have been checking your shoulders every evening you came back for her." She gave him a pointed look. Besides, if she'd been looking it would have been lipstick, lingering perfume instead. How could he have someone when all he did was read?

"And no, I haven't messed up the order," She roughly straightened the robe, flustered, and turned back to the wardrobe, realising with annoyance that she had no idea where it was before she had knocked it off. "I matched it near enough to colour - that is your system I guess?" Her features twisted into suspicion, but she slid the robe back in where she figured it was meant to go in the series.

"Next you're going to tell me you have a sock index." She grumbled, turning back on the spot, hands free, and pointing to the pile of the pairs on the foot of the freshly-made bed.

"Last time I do your washing as a favour." Elixa pouted. "Psh, anyone would think you were hiding a dead body in the wardrobe from your expression."

But for her protests, she still hadn't left his room, but she was damned if she was going to throw his socks in the correct drawer now.

"Actually, yes, as it so happens I do have a sock index." Arcturus put his bag down on the chair. "And no, I don't hide a dead body in my wardrobe, but I keep things nat in exactly the way I like them. Colour?" The disdain in his voice was rather clear and pronounced. "I'd have expected a more intelligent answer from an apothecary. It's a blessing that I don't have you sniffing all over me, then."

He slipped out his wand from his sleeve. "I didn't want anyone in my room because I like my privacy and I keep things in here that I would prefer people didn't see when I'm not present. I appreciate that you've done the washing." To anyone unused to Arcturus' mannerisms, he would look like he was about to hex Elixa, given his expression, tone and the way he was holding his wand very stiffly pointing upwards at the ceiling. "Thank you. Now please get out of my room."

Elixa's hand went to her mouth to try and cover her scoffing.
"Seriously?" She spluttered at the sock index, but he had already continued, and was mocking her assumption that he organised his robes by colour. She could classify them by length, material, pattern, season or anything but she didn't ever imagine a man would be that particular. Then again, he would be, just to be awkward.

"Ew, I'm not your bloody cat." She snipped in response to the sniffing comment, frowning at Arcturus. This wasn't fair - she was trying to help him out and now he was being all sarcastic and scathing about her apothecary profession being to do with how she hurriedly organised another person's wardrobe.

Elixa's hands snapped to her hips and she scowled as he went on.
"Funny way of saying it." His housemate retorted. "I don't know what I've got to do - you've spent the past couple of weeks in a filthy mood with me for breathing in this place." She gestured to his wardrobe with a sharp stab of her finger, "If not colour then pattern, style or item then - I hadn't taken that much of a look, for your information."

Pouting a moment she stalked past his bed and scooped up his socks.
"Here," she thrust them towards him, "enjoy alphabetising your socks."  Elixa didn't care if they ended up on the floor.

"If I knew you found that more interesting I'd never have agreed to move in with you." Words she would regret later, but the frustration of tiptoeing around him trying to work out what she'd done was boiling up.

"Probably no traces of your imaginary partner even if I was looking." She told him at close range, looking over her left shoulder, stopping on her way to the door.

Arcturus ignored most of her words as he waved his wand at the thrown socks, but he did turn to look at her before emphatically rolling his eyes at her. "You're acting like a child, you know that?" he said, as the socks wriggled into the drawers like fish. "Are you even a witch? Could've just used your wand. I can tell you've never really done much housekeeping or cared much for it...most likely the latter, given your tolerance level for tidiness in a housemate."

He sighed as the hangers in the wardrobe rearranged themselves the moment he pointed his wand at them. "I'm disappointed in you. Usually I'd expect an apothecary to be a little more, you know, dedicated to organisation and getting things right the first time." Arcturus shook his head.

"Now." The old bedsheets reared themselves up. "If you excuse me, I'm looking forward to a quiet night." He gave her a warning look. "Again. And no more quips about my partner, imaginary or not. I'm completely happy for you to think that I play make-believe with myself, but it would do best to keep your thoughts to yourself if they are that mean-spirited."

With that he pointed at the now-empty laundry basket, wherein the bedsheets obediently piled in. "I meant it when I said I appreciate the gesture. Whatever else you take away from it is your deal."

Was she even a witch?! Because she didn't like to do everything with a flick of her wand, that she enjoyed being exact with her own hands once in a while, and show a personal touch. He was very lucky she hadn't send those socks one by one down his throat with her wand!

Humph, people didn't say that to her, they said that to people who really didn't use their wands.

Somehow she managed to hold her tongue as she reached for the door handle.

"… whatever else you take away from it is your deal."

She yanked open the door and rounded on him on her heel.

"How dare you make assumptions about me based on my profession!" She spat at him across the room, eyes bright and finger pointing accusingly at him.

"How I choose to live my life and keep myself at home is no reflection on how I am at work. Just because you spend your days wearing a mask of indifference and organising things like a library to keep control over your surroundings, doesn't mean everyone else should, or will." Her jaw had set into a less attractive line of stubbornness in the doorway.

"She's probably imaginary because I can't imagine anyone could live up to your ridiculous standards!"

She flicked her wand twice at the bed with sharp, snapping movements. The covers pulling tight over the mattress with neat corners, just as the hospital did and the pillows aligning straight.

He wasn't expecting her outburst. Arcturus stood there and watched her shout, blinking all the while. It wasn't even the insults towards, well, his relationship status that got to him - it was more the fact that he hadn't expected her to get that mad.

Her demonstration of her skills didn't technically change a thing, though, but this time he decided to keep his mouth shut. In fact, he just kept his mouth shut, period. There were a dozen reasons for him not to, especially to apologise, but in the face of that much anger he simply shut down. So Elixa, in response, got a slightly stunned expression, and that was it.

Rustle poked his head into the room to check out what was all the ruckus, and stopped at the sight of wands. His fur bristled as he sensed the charged atmosphere and he backed off with a soft low growl.

Hollingbury didn't have anything to say in response. Which left Elixa standing in his bedroom doorway, the breath out of her lungs from her forceful response. She found she had forgotten to take a breath in, and did so with a gulp of air between her lips, and slid her wand back into her clothes, the bedsheets now tight enough to bounce coins off.

If anyone else had said that, she would have teased them away, but because it was Arcturus Hollingbury, the man she had been so taken with the first time he'd come to the counter in the hospital and spoken to her, who she had tried frantically to befriend, pondered long hours about while cleaning and restocking in the bowels of St Mungo's, it hurt.

She respected him and his professional conduct at the hospital, and she enjoyed his company, what little they shared, but she never, ever thought he would insult her with regards to her own profession, which she took great pride in. Take a stab at her for being generally untidy at home, but never compare it to her working life. It was the one part of her life she prided herself for.

For a long moment, only punctuated by Rustle's growl, the two housemates stood in silence, neither one able to find suitable words.

Then Elixa took one step back, put her right hand to her forehead, fingers loosely together and lowered her gaze as if considering.

"Look," she began, "I know I'm out of practice living with people, but, I'm trying." Her gaze returned to the healer's face. "Leave me a list of what I need to do, and I'll compromise, or pack my bags." She set her jaw again, that irritation still very much there behind her eyes.

"I'll leave you, and whoever it is to your books, and your sock index."

There was a pregnant pause.

"Who the world has a sock index anyhow?!" Exasperated, she put both hands to her hair and gripped it.

It took a few minutes for Arcturus to realise that she'd finished speaking. He sighed and held his hands up as if in surrender as he shook his head. A quick evaluation of various responses to her went through his head as he paused to gather breath, and in the end all of them pointed at honesty being the one true answer.

"Okay, I'm sorry." He put one hand down; the other went to massage his aching neck. "You're right. I shouldn't have taken a shot at your work ethic in relation to your house life, I got annoyed and it was the only thing I could think of in the moment. And it was a stupid thing to say. I'm tired, but it doesn't give me the excuse to mouth you off like that."

He gave her a half-smile, rather tiredly, at her words about her packing and the sock index. "I don't think I need to leave you a list, Elixa, you're perfectly fine on that matter. It'll just be my books and Rustle tonight, at any rate. And as for the sock index.." He paused, considering how much of the truth he could tell her, got indecisive within the span of ten seconds and promptly gave up. He didn't have the energy for anything heavy tonight.

"...look, I just...something happen in my life that made me prefer a balance of order and chaos to my life. That's it. I've got enough trouble in the hospital, the least I want at home is additional problems to deal with. Keeping organised is just how I live. That's all." Arcturus shrugged. "And I'm sorry, again, that you have to put up with living alongside someone like me. But please, next time, don't come in here unasked. I appreciate your work, I really do, but entering my room without permission just really grates on my nerves."

The venomous feeling between them suddenly seemed to deflate as Arcturus apologised. Elixa's shoulders drooped in relief, her guard decreasing, and her fingers unlaced from her hair over the sock index, self-consciously smoothing it back down as far as possible.

"I… I don't put up with you." She blurted out, mouth still hanging open. "I'd never just put up with you - I …" she stumbled on her words and nodded.

"No of course not, I didn't mean to pry, I was just trying to make up for whatever I've done and do something nice but, no, I get you it's ok." She backed out of the doorway into the hall. It was hard to be angry with him when he looked like that.

"What do you mean, something happened? Can I help? Do you need something? Are you ill?" She took a step into the doorway again, looking earnest and concerned. Even though it seemed futile to continue her pursuit of Arcturus Hollingbury past 'housemates' or 'attempted friends' she would still try to help him, for that tiny glimmer of hope that in doing so, they might be closer, that he might entertain her presence with more of those half smiles, or even a genuine smile.

Why did he get annoyed with Elixa? He couldn't remember the reason why he got irritated with her in the first place now. A sign that he needed a break, possibly.

He had to half-smile again at her concern. He'd just told her off, she'd told him off, he apologised and she'd bounced back as if nothing had happened a few minutes ago. There was at least something refreshing about how bubbly she could be after work; he admired her for that. He couldn't muster enough energy to smile properly, yet here she was caring. Healer material, possibly.

"No, it's all right. It happened a long time ago. There's nothing you can really do about it now." He turned away before any flash of memory brought a change to the expression on his face for her to see; he was not keen on letting her know exactly how much he was still aching in the aftermath. "Thank you for wanting to help, though. If I'd met you years back, maybe things would've turned out different. Maybe."

Later on, she would ponder over exactly where she stood with Arcturus Hollingbury again, as these very strange scenes played out in the upstairs of their rented abode.

But either way, when he smiled, even just a little, she found it hard to leave. Desperate to make him keep smiling, or to do it again, indulge her. He was usually so deadpan, so unmoving and steely, hidden behind a book.

"Different?" She asked without missing a beat, stepping back into the room without consciously realising she had. A hand had reached forward ever so slightly - not to reach him, but a subconscious offer that she was keen to help.

"Of course I want to help I'm your -" the word stuck in her throat through indecisiveness of how she wanted to categorise herself, "friend," she landed on, "and it is the least I could do." He had turned away in finishing his explanation, though her return into the boundary of his room, without permission was bound to bring his attention back.

"There is something I can do." She added earnestly, "You said can really do like there was an element of doubt, not a complete denial that I am useless to you."

Her eyes were bright, willing him to deny her a chance, and her feet took another pace forwards, closing the gap at the foot of his bed between them. Her lips were slightly apart, and that hand remained outstretched.

To hell if her desperation was plain upon her face. She cared not a jot there in his room, where minutes previous she had been offering to leave her side of the rent because she must be unbearable to live with. The almost suffocating, and frightening tendency that she had to be verging on obsessing over her housemate and colleague reared its ugly head. Such as she was, oblivious to the goings on in this place on a Friday night after she left for the night to let her own hair down with friends.

"Tell me what it is I can do for you my l- Arcturus." The slip of her tongue brought a shake to the way she spoke his name.

Arcturus had turned his head ever so slightly back in her direction, enough for him to see her out of the corner of his eye, but not enough for her to see his eyes thanks to his hair being in the way. She seemed eager, almost keen, to help him. For a moment he considered telling her what still haunted his dreams during his sleeping hours, what made him avoid looking at his body in a mirror when he went to take a shower.

He remembered the golden lion's head ring that was nestled in its velvet box, resting on his desk.

"It's fine," he said heavily, turning away. His mind had abruptly stopped caring; it did that when there were memories to hold back, and his energy was only limited. "Thank you for wanting to help, but I can handle it."

"Alright..." Elixa responded, not able to hide the little disappointment and the deflation of being shown a sudden recognition of her approach to her colleague and housemate, only to be brushed off again. Perhaps she needed to ask around a bit more, pay more attention, it seemed like he was hung up on someone or something else, and only the elimination of that would help her plight.

"But I'm here, any time, if you do need me, Arcturus." She told him with a serious expression. "Potions, talking or even the demand of a hug with no explanation. I ... I don't mind. You're ... you're worth the trouble." Feeling awkward about how it was phrased, she took once last glance at him, rounded her shoulders a little and turned away to the door. Then with a moment's pause, her feet followed each other, one after the other, back into the hallway.

"Sorry. I'll be downstairs." She uttered a little more distantly, owing to the fact she was faced away and outside of the room. With a flick of her wand, his bedroom door inched shut smoothly, as her footsteps retreated along the upstairs hallway towards the top of the stairs.

She would make the extra effort not to step in the cat food or leave mess, even if he protested it didn't bother him that much. She would pay attention to his quirks and what little expression was shown, she would be able to tell. Knowing so little about one's housemates made her feel less comfortable than knowing little to nothing about those who got into bed with her in the previous years, which was odd, considering that was one place she'd welcome Arcturus any hour of the day.

Perhaps she was better turning her interest to Maiko who she met at Puddlefoot's.

Glancing back over her shoulder at the foot of the stairs, she turned to where the coats were hung with a thoughtful expression. Couldn't hurt to try and find out more about her housemate meanwhile, and there was plenty to examine without stepping foot in his room...


End