When not outside being drenched by it, Leon liked rain. The white noise it created was soothing, and the veil it cast over the horizon made everything seem more mysterious. Plus, knowing that you were warm and dry rather than cold and wet meant that staying inside was a lot more pleasant, and there was no need to feel guilty about wasting nice weather, which sometimes happened in summer. But not all of its effects were beneficial – while it wasn’t quite soporific, it did make him more relaxed, lazy enough that after returning from work he’d sunk onto the sofa and proceeded to do absolutely nothing.

It wasn’t like he had to do  anything urgently, but there were a couple of things he should do – like working on the sketches for a sculpture, and making his flat look slightly more presentable than it did at the moment. It wasn’t untidy, and while it certainly wasn’t the worst state that Ellie had seen it in it could still do with a couple of minutes cleaning. But there was plenty of time for that, so instead he settled back into the sofa, adjusting them to make himself more comfortable and turning on the television. Because obviously he would get up, just as soon as the re-run of doctor who finished. Or at least, that was the plan, because of course that was when his cousin decided to phone him.

He loved Irina, but she had no sense of timing. Still, he didn’t sound at all bothered by the supposed interruption when he answered the phone, asking cheerfully about her day. As a diversionary tactic, it only had limited success, because she quickly returned the question, and then started asking considerably more pointed questions about what Leon had been getting up to. Leon was busy trying to avoid answering when there was the buzz of the intercom, and he seized upon the excuse gleefully, hanging up rapidly before making his way over to let Ellie into the building, pressing the button to tell her, “You’re good to come up.”

Capitalising on the few minutes he had left, he picked up the old mug of coffee, tipping its contents down the sink and then leaving it there, out of sight. Other than untidy stack of unopened letters and a paintbrush that shouldn’t even be in the room, he decided that there was nothing too awful, so he neatened the stack, then picked the paintbrush up, trying to recall when he’d have left it in the room in the first place without much luck. He’d barely added it to the mess on the table in his studio (which was fine, he liked it like that) when the doorbell rang, and Leon rushed to answer it.

He was already talking as he opened the door, “Hey Ellie!” Although a hug was customary, the water pouring off her made him reluctant to follow this particular tradition, and instead he held out a hand to take her coat. “How was your day?” Stepping to one side to let her into the flat, he reached a long arm past her to shut the door. It was colder in the corridor than in his room, if only by a little, but he liked the warmth and heat.

The novelty of being buzzed in was still a little, well, novel. Eleanor was used to charms and Floo networks and animated bits of furniture and other objects that kept an eye on— and sometimes dictated the rules of— wizarding living quarters. Sassy hat stands and doormats-turned-doormen. Even though she practically lived with Lala, with as much time as she spent hanging out at her best friend’s apartment (near double the usual time, now that she was getting to know Sander’s apartment one floor up), there were some concepts that were near-perpetually endearing, curious, or simply what is that. Given that she was scheduled to move in with the aforementioned, legendary young lady very soon, Eleanor thought shuffling through the building as the buzzer sounded was good practice, and barreled shoulder first out of the cold rain and into the corridor.

A few flights up, and she had already peeled off gloves and a scarf, and was inching her arms out of her jacket as the temperature change caught up with her. She hit the doorbell and was soon let in by a familiar, friendly face. “Hey!” Ellie returned the greeting with a wide smile and a breathy hint of exhaustion. “Damp.” She handed over her soaked coat gratefully, propping an umbrella in the corner near the door, and scrambling out of her rainboots, which left a tiny puddle.  “But not bad,” she elaborated, finally freeing a wooly-socked foot of a lavender wellie and stepping further into the flat. Messy, half-wet hair hung down her back, looking positively thrilled to be let out of layers of semi-rain-proof winter clothing and into someone’s warm flat. “I got an amazing shot of a kid falling into a puddle and taking his dad with him.” If the pair hadn’t happened to see the camera, well, no harm done. (Only some people had been granted that ask first status when it came to her viewfinder). She looked over her shoulder and flicked her wand at the dripping boots, drying them and the patch of floor beneath them. Leon was too sweet of a person to have to deal with his friends’ sopping clothes and footwear.

Mostly. The couch did look appealing. His flat had a casual messiness to it that was somehow inviting. Ellie’s eyes landed on the television, another of those things that she’d been introduced to mostly through friends after Hogwarts. She was more used to it by now (certainly more used to it than Lala’s computer, which was like a tv one could interact with). She was practically a veteran in her knowledge that people did not, in fact, fit inside the television. She looked to Leon again. “How about you? What have you been to?” Her eyes landed on the table cluttered with stacks of papers. “Sketching anything interesting?" And then her gaze flickered back to the screen. “What are we watching? I hope it goes well with pizza.” She could eat a house at the moment. Rain did that, it made people hungry. Or it made Ellie hungry, and she wasn’t about to splash back through it to harass Sander into baking for her, much as she adored him and his kitchen skills. Ellie and Leon had a pizza party with their names on it.

Leon grinned at that story, which sounded like just the sort of thing Phillip had done as a kid – and he’d have loved to see it captured on camera. Ellie was great at noticing stuff like that, things that looked amazing in a photograph. It was spontaneous in a way that sculpting wasn’t, not that it was any easier. “That’s awesome, you have to show me when you’ve developed the pictures.” He smiled gratefully as she cleared up after herself, “you don’t have to do that, I’m supposed to be looking after you!” Ellie was a lovely guest, but he always felt guilty at first because of it, before he eased into conversation and worries about food and drink slipped from his mind.

Following her into the living room, smiling as his friend’s eyes went to the television almost immediately, relieved they’d skated over the mess that he hadn’t had time to remove. “Take a seat!” he insisted, bending to search through the paper on the table for the phone book. It was archaic, but it also had the advertising leaflet for all of the takeaway places in the area, so it wasn’t a waste of his time.

“How about you? What have you been to? Sketching anything interesting?”

“Oh, I have a couple of commissions, plus hopefully I’m going to get rid of the bust from a couple of years ago, so I suppose things are pretty good! Stable enough that I’m thinking about moving, too.” The second part of her question, he intentionally ignored – he had been sketching recently, but he had no intention of admitting who what he’d been drawing, much less showing anyone. “What about you? Taking lots of compelling photos?” He could easily have said pretty, but art shouldn’t be defined by whether it was pretty or not.

“Everything goes well with pizza,” Leon felt compelled to point out, “including garlic bread – the independent place does really nice stuff, more like flat bread, if you want?” Leon wanted, but he didn’t want so badly that if Ellie was against it, he would order it. Plus, if they had garlic bread from the independent pizza place, they would also have to buy pizza from there, and that would be fractionally more expensive. But so worth it.

“As for what to watch, want to watch fantasy and comment on how badly they went wrong?” It was weird, seeing the supernatural represented in the media and being at once amused and appalled by how wrong it was. “Other than that, I have comedy, sci-fi – why don’t you look for something that seems interesting? I’ve seen it all before, anyway.” He grinned, the statement which could easily sound condescending instead a joke she was invited to share.

He paused as he looked at the advert that had been crammed through his door, sure there was something he’d forgotten. “Oh yeah, what kind of pizza do you want?” he held it out to her, “I’m going to have Hawaiian, but if you want to share then pick whatever and we can order a larger one.” He could order a larger one anyway, and probably manage to eat it all.

She grinned. If Leon wanted to see a few photos of a father getting caught in a puddle, Ellie would end up oversharing an album’s worth of things she’d caught camera in the past several months— both at work and in a leisurely capacity. “You should see the one I got of Lala waking up.” Sharing a flat had so far been brilliant. “Or this calendar I did a while back.” Her face said it all. Ellie loved her job.

“Leon, I’m not tracking mud and germy water into your flat and not cleaning up after myself,” she countered. "If you were Lester, I wouldn’t care.” Besides, mud would be the least suspect thing dragged into Lester’s living space. Poor Sander. “But I don’t know if anyone should trust him with a mop.”

Ellie easily made herself comfortable on the couch, glancing only fleetingly out the window, where it was still raining bathtubs. Being in here with a good friend was much pleasanter. She looked back towards Leon and grinned. “That’s brilliant! If you beat me to a penthouse, you’re buying the pizza for life.” Anyone who owned a penthouse in London could afford it (like cousins she didn’t need to think about right now). Ellie knew Leon was full of talent, capable of attracting big clients. Things had been looking up for her, too, which only meant they would have to celebrate. Beginning with pizza. “What sort of commissions?” She looked around a bit, as if one of the piles of paper might give her a clue about what he was in the process of sculpting.

“I’ve got a press pass for the Kestrals-Bats game this weekend.” She liked getting shots in the rain, but she hoped it would be nicer than today. Buckets of rain combined with the lightning fast broom work could be a challenge. With luck, she would get some good shots and they would be picked up by a few of the papers. "Then someone’s wedding, which should pay well.” Ellie was still at the point in her career where she took all sorts of commissions, from parties and private events, to shots for reporters, and the occasional magazine spread— the insane good fortune of being asked to shoot Bristol Collins had certainly brought more magazine offers.

The thought of pizza and garlic bread made her tummy rumble. “Yes,” was the automatic response. The transfiguration law about not being able to make food from thin air was a cruel and terrible thing. “Garlic bread and muggle fantasies,” she decided. It wasn’t hard. The promise of muggle interpretations of supernatural things was like karma for all of the muggle things that confused Ellie (not that she didn’t love her friends). Now warm and much drier, she popped up from the sofa and made her way over to where the DVDs were. Remembering all of the acronyms was a bit harder than simply remembering television or films. She poked at the spines of various cases, pausing to pull out a title here and another there. “Hawaiian is great. I’ll steal some, but I think I’m feeling veggie. Trade a slice for a slice?” She pulled out a DVD that boasted vampires and other magical beings on its cover. It looked promising, so she carried it back toward the tv. The contraption for playing the little disks was a surprise Ancient Runes test. She waited for Leon. “Let’s see how badly they botched up werewolves."

He’d completely forgotten that her new rooms were shared with Lala, but – she was okay, but Leon wouldn’t want to live with her. He still smiled, and then wider at the mention of a calendar. He was assuming, by her tone and expression, that it wasn’t wildlife photography, “Definitely. Especially the calendar, but if Lala is anything like as attached to sleep as I am, her waking up would be hilarious.”

The mention of a penthouse got a snort of amusement, “it’s on. Although if I’m buying you pizza for life, I’ll probably have to move out within the year.” He shrugged, “My cousin’s firm wants something so that they look more upscale, and nothing says upscale like busts in marble.” Well, nothing in the same price range did, which suited Leon just fine, “oh, and I’m still doing sculptures for Le Masque, which is nice because it lends the illusion of stability to my finances. And I got a really nice one recently, they want it to be mirrored – I’m looking forward to that. Sorry, shutting up now.”

He listened attentively while she talked about her own job, grinning at the mention of a wedding. It would probably be stressful, though, just because there was so much pressure to get everything perfect. Not that there wasn’t at other times, and Leon was sure that she would get it perfect. Plus, she would get to see the Quidditch for free. Even if she was working, she would still get to pay some attention to the game, and while he wasn’t a massive fan he was still enough of one to be a little jealous. “That’s amazing, at this rate you’ll be buying me pizza for life.”

Leon took one look at the DVD box and held back a groan. He hadn’t even realised that he had that, and if he had, he would have thrown it away – or given it back to its owner. Eliza had always been bad at remembering her belongings, but he had no idea that she’d even brought Twilight over, let alone that she’d saddled him with it.

He frowned at it, deliberating whether he should request another choice or not; terrible though it was, Ellie had picked it and poking fun at how awful it was should be interesting. “That film’s sort of famous for being crap,” he warned her, “but if you’re happy to discuss how crap it is, that’s cool.” He didn’t mention that it was vampires rather than werewolves, or that generally the way vampires was even more discordant with reality than the way that werewolves were – but then, that was in part the fault of Twilight, so in a way it was the perfect film for learning about the complete inaccuracy with which the supernatural was presented.

He shrugged, it was her choice after all, and instead took mercy on her struggles with the DVD player. It was easy to forget that something that he considered obvious, like the eject button, was indecipherable to those not brought up with muggle technology,“there’s an upwards arrow with a line under it, press that first and put the disc in shiny side down, I’m going to order our food.” He crossed the room to where the phone rested on its cradle, picking it up and dialling the number listed in the pamphlet while watching keeping a watchful eye on Ellie's struggles with the DVD player, but since nothing seemed to be breaking it was probably fine.

“Hilarious and dangerous,” Ellie corrected him with a grin. But being a photographer without the dangerous part was no fun: it was the adventurous aspect of things that made her want to capture them, whether it was a bludger with an apparent mind of its own chasing a seeker, a werewolf in broad daylight, or her best friend sleeping off the previous night’s party. “I’ll bring the calendar the next time I come in for coffee, but it’s not exactly… safe for work,” she explained, employing a (version of) a phrase she had heard one of a handful of friends use. But she was a professional.

Ellie smiled in an I don’t require that much pizza way. But it was a beloved food that both she and Leon could appreciate, and one which she didn’t mind spending hard-earned money on. “You just have to balance your budget, cut out a little bit for pizza.” Or more than a little bit. “Problem solved!” A penthouse rent or mortgage on the other hand...

Commissions were a good way to start saving for that. “Don’t shut up. I love it. We’re both working adults.” Whatever George Carter liked to pretend, Ellie had her shit together at the moment, and it sounded as if Leon needed to be toasted for being equally on top of his game. All of the world’s pizza was at their fingertips. “Le Masque? That’s really exclusive! Congratulations.” She was pretty sure his cousin was quite successful, too. It was good to see Leon’s talent being employed. "But what’s going on in your life when you aren’t working?” Had it really been so long since they’d caught up on the details of their personal lives? Ellie saw him often at Alohomocha, but she was usually brushing in and out for coffee, making very small talk, or bothering people in the kitchen, and Leon had customers to attend to. It felt like it had been a while since they’d had a proper conversation, and that needed to be fixed.

It was funny that muggles had somewhat stringent rules for fantasy ‘lore,’ but still didn’t believe that witches and wizards— and vampires, werewolves, and other beings— existed. Even so, if they thought it was ‘crap’ and Leon agreed, it had to be a whole new level of inaccurate. “Maybe it should be a drinking game.” Every time a vampire did something ridiculous and unvampire-y, one took a shot. Witches and wizards would have a field day of it, if only they could get DVD players to work in the wizarding world. “The makeup looks awful on the cover.” Awful in a sure to be awesome(ly entertaining) way.

The few arrows might as well have been part of a room full of buttons, like the command centers in other sci-fi movies Ellie had seen. There seemed to be two muggle buttons for everyone one charm a wizard could come up with, and the ways in which muggle technology had morphed since she had been a child were even curiouser. Not that she had had much exposure as a child. “I’ve got this.” Her voice exuded confidence as she pressed the button and stuck the disc into the machine before pulling back to blink as the screen changed at her command.

Leon's smile was proud, because yeah, he was. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted when he was a kid, but he’d always known that he was going to have to do something, and it was an achievement that he was doing something that he really wanted to do – particularly sculpting, it was definitely harder to be successful in the arts than get a job in a different sector.

His cheeks heated as he wondered what to say. His relationship definitely wasn’t a secret – Rick’s family knew, thanks to C.C., and even though he’d managed to avoid naming anyone thus far, Irina knew that he was dating someone. But it had only been a couple of days – not even a fortnight – and Leon didn’t want to tell everyone about someone only for it to be over in a week. No matter how unlikely he thought that was. “Yeah, I’m seeing someone,” he admitted, smiling wider, “but it’s really recent. Whereas I happen to know you’re dating everyone’s favourite grumpy patissier.” He was happy for them, and while he hadn’t seen Ellie recently, Sander had been fractionally less grumpy, if you squinted and made sure to duck any flying kitchen ware.
 “It has one,” Leon remarked, “but unless you want to die of alcohol poisoning, I wouldn’t advise it.” He didn’t know what the rules would be, but he could guess – the werewolf’s shirt coming off would be one, and so would the vampire brooding. “I can get you something to drink though, if you want?”

Leon grinned at the attitude towards something as simple as putting on a DVD – although it wasn’t a difficulty exclusive to wizards, some of his more elderly relatives were just as bad. He wasn’t any kind of technological whizz, but he was still competent enough that provided nothing broke, he would probably be fine. “Great, press the little arrow button to start the movie,” he instructed, a hand over the mouthpiece, watching with amusement.

Pizza ordered, he plopped himself down on the sofa next to Ellie, “Wanna guess who the werewolf is?” Although he wasn’t actually a werewolf in this movie, so it was sort of a trick question, but whatever.

They were at the science lesson when the bell rang, and Leon beamed at Ellie, “back in a moment!” He was as good as his word, cardboard boxes in hand, “Want to be classy and use plates, or are you good with eating from the box?” He, being slovenly, was fine with from the box, but if she wanted to be more refined (as refined as one could be when eating pizza in front of the telly) then he would follow her example.

Ellie’s smile widened at the color in Leon’s cheeks. “That’s not a vague answer at all,” she teased. If she was waiting for a name, it didn’t stop her from smiling wider at Leon’s rather cheeky turning of the tables. “I like them grumpy, what can I say?” She shrugged. Alright, so Sander definitely topped the list of grumpy people she had dated. In fact, Ellie’s dating history had no discernible pattern. For all of Lala’s proclamations that Lysander Blackwell was a neanderthal, he was lightyears more evolved than George Carter. Also, a babe with a (not particularly) secret affection for kittens. “So what’s his name?” She asked, turning the topic back to Leon’s mystery date. “What’s he like?”

She laughed at the alcohol poisoning quip, her interest in this apparently gloriously terrible movie somehow doubling. “Hmmm, maybe not alcohol, then. Whatever you’re having is good.” If it happened to include alcohol, that was okay. It did go well with pizza.

Following the instructions, Ellie soon saw the fruits of her labor: the faces from the box and accompanying music flooded the screen, offering up a melodramatic story that kept her attention, however absurd. “It’s not her dad, is it?” She wagered, figuring it was as good a guess as any. Considering the vampires’ apparent ease with the sun, they could be some kind of terrible (as in terribly designed) hybrid. Ellie shook her head.

"You weren’t lying. If I were doing shots, I’d be three sheets to the wind by now.” Were they even twenty minutes in?!

Leon went to the answer the door, and the soon the delicious fragrance of pizza drifted toward Ellie. She looked from the tv, toward the door, back to the tv, apparently torn about where her attention belonged. The movie was so bad, it was good, but food was a wholly different kind of magic. She leaned toward the boxes with a smile. “Let’s do it the authentic way.”

The first bite was glorious. Ellie tore off a bit of melty goodness and chewed thoughtfully— clearly enjoying it— before turning to Leon. “So what I’m getting from this is that vampires love cars and can’t resist the blood of moody teenage girls,” she said offered swallowing. “And they sparkle, so teenage girls can’t resist them, either. If only I’d known that for my History of Magic NEWT.”

He couldn’t help but blush. He knew that trying to avoid telling people things often made them perversely interested in whatever it was, but it wasn’t something he’d ever been comfortable talking about. “That was sort of the point,” he said. But she wasn’t to be dissuaded, and it would be nice to tell someone about Rick. “He’s called Rick. He’s pretty grumpy too, but he’s more of an asshole than Sander.” It wasn’t a sufficient description, but Leon wasn’t sure that he could do Rick justice. It was hard to explain – Rick wasn’t nice, that was for certain, but he wasn’t a complete asshole either. He loved his family, and it was easy to spend time with him. But there was one thing that was simple for Leon to mention, “and he has muscles that would put a renaissance statue to shame, but without the size problems.” He smiled, looking away as he finished his description. “He would be good calendar material.”

“Only three? I’m not sure what the rules are, but it seems like you’d be taking shots as fast as you could drink them.” He was sure there was something about brooding in there, and breathing loudly. It was a good way of reacting, if you only did it once or twice and not the whole time, making a character nothing but a pair of bellows. A movie about vampire bellows would probably be better than this one. “I’d probably be passed out.”

Pizza in Ellie’s hands, he moved back to the kitchen area, taking a moment to locate two cups that matched. He had apple juice in the fridge, but much as he liked it, it didn’t go well with Pizza, and he didn’t have any of the more traditional fizzy drinks. It was the work of a moment to run two glasses of water, and although Ellie had agreed that pizzas were finger food, he collected a knife and a piece of kitchen roll just in case. It was quite messy finger food, after all.

His hands full, he moved back to the sofa, sitting down beside Ellie and taking some pizza from the box with a beam. "If only I’d known sparkling made me irresistible, I would have gone along with Phillip’s plan to cover me in glitter.” Instead, he’d refused because glitter was essentially sparkly sand, and he remembered how difficult it was to get rid of sand. The stuff showed up weeks later in all sorts of uncomfortable places. “I don’t think that would have helped you, unfortunately.”

Not that the film wasn’t fascinating, but he was more invested in his pizza than it, and for a few minutes his interest waned. “Oh, he’s the werewolf,” he said, when he’d made his entrance “it’s hereditary, and you get hot and run around shirtless when you come into your powers.” And get a much better haircut, thankfully, because that long hair looked awful. “It’s a shame that real werewolves aren’t more like that, actually.” Aside from the whole sparkly vampires thing, being a twilit werewolf seemed like a sweet deal.

Vague on purpose didn’t mean she couldn’t poke around. For now. That’s what hard-headed St. Jameses friends were for! She smiled. “More of an asshole?” She maybe shouldn’t have sounded so impressed. Sander was not an asshole… to her. And yet she knew what Leon was getting at. He was easy enough to misread, with his frowns and threats. But he was so sweet when he wanted to be. (Mostly to cats, Ellie, and his sisters). “If his fitness cancels out the assholeness, who are we to complain?” She stared at him in earnest. “But you know what’s hilarious? The calendar guy I was talking about earlier is also a Rick.”

Were they going to believe in coincidences?

There had to be several Ricks running around London. Calendar-worthy. Grumpy-ish.

But they both knew CeeCee. And Ellie knew what that meant. Her smile became bigger. “Rick Donovan?”

The film they were watching seemed to imply that calendar-worthiness went hand-in-hand with sparkle. Ellie was glad they had opted out of the drinking game. Leon was right: she’d be far more than three sheets. “Sadly I have to work tomorrow and can’t pass out,” she lamented.

As he joined her with utensils, paper towels, and water— thinking of the big picture that was pizza messiness, obviously— Ellie continued to dig into the delicious slice she’d dived for. “I wonder if his sparkle gets all over everything. I like you exactly the way you are, Leon… and your glitter free flat.” She could only imagine hugging a glitter-covered friend and finding bits of the stuff on the bottoms of her shoes six months later. Even spells fell flat with glitter cleanup. “Could you imagine the look on Sander’s face, if you got it in his cake? Or, your calendar boy’s face?”

Werewolves seemed more manageable— and had gotten the better end of the supernatural deal. “I bet it wouldn’t be as fun in London,” she suggested, gesturing with a wave of her hand toward the window. It was still raining. “But I still wouldn’t mind seeing it. Armies of shirtless guys running around on the sidewalks.”