At three-thirty-two in afternoon of April 1st, a 1989 Ford Orion was spotted in the air over Bristol.

By five o'clock that evening, Eha was in Bedfordshire, dressed just Muggle-y enough to pass in the market town without remark. She walked with her arms crossed over her chest, boots clicking against the damp cobblestones, mildly annoyed by the entire situation. "Monty Pepper is bound to have his fingers in this somehow," the senior auror in charge of the investigation had sighed as he arranged to modify the witness's memories. "Rattling on about these flying cars for months, he has. Be a dear and nip on up to check up on him, won't you? There's a love."

The senior was an older bloke, and nice enough she supposed, but he was just so condescending. Eha wasn't some fresh-faced Hogwarts newbie, even if she was a trainee. She'd been on the ground at plenty of investigations and at least one disaster. Why did she keep getting stuck with nonsense like dog-sitting and running down daft time-muddled old men? They didn't even know if the car was real yet. For all they knew it was some silly muggle's idea of a prank.

She huffed and willed the frustration to dissipate as she pushed open a glass door and stepped into the familiar atmosphere of a pub. She'd gone by the Pepper household first and been pointed here, as Mr. Pepper had apparently stepped out for a bit of personal celebration. No sooner had the door closed behind her than Eha's mouth began to water. She'd kill for a drink, chill as the spring air had been. Maybe she'd take in a nip once the job was done.

She scanned the bar and, locating a shock of curly white hair, and made her approach, all stiff shoulders and serious business. She paused a few steps behind the man and cleared her throat. "Octavius Pepper?"

The Pepper family were not shy of associating with Muggles. Quite the opposite - it was quite common for marriage into Muggles in generations past, something which Octavius had also taken to heart in marrying Catherine, the most wonderful, understanding, patient woman he had ever had the chance to meet. She was a loving mother, and when last year he'd aged twenty years owing to a magical accident, forcing him to live those 20 years in America posing as his own relative, he had been worried she might turn up her toes in shock. But despite her lack of magical heritage, she was more than a match for Octavius and his strange notions.

So very soon, he hoped to see Zeta and Eta from school for a little time, and then perhaps his nephews, Ambrose and Tim. It would be the Easter holiday, and he looked forward to seeing them for a little while before the summer holiday began. This time next year, Zeta and Ambrose would be doing their last preparations before their OWL exams.

All in all the term with them away had been eventful. He and Edwin were still not talking as they normally did, over Octavius tinkering with Edwin's car and taking it for a fly around Guilden Morden. The aurors had, to their credit found it both fascinating and funny beneath their official exterior in front of their seniors. Edwin, as Head of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes was a great antagonist of the aurors, so to have him red faced and in trouble was a second Christmas.

Still, it had come with consequences. The car had been confiscated, stripped of all magical charms (it hadn't escaped Octavius that Edwin had already charmed it for maintenance purposes) and then eventually returned. Edwin had received a considerable amount of flack (hence them being off speaking terms for the foreseeable future until the other man calmed down).

Octavius, on the other hand, had used the whole incident to his advantage. The Daily Prophet had nicely reported his name as Monty Pepper - which had been the name he had gone by while over in America. This was recognisable on both sides of the Atlantic in magical communities, for the fact he owned Blue Silver, the magical car business.

Not only did the fact he had flown a car (regrettably without invisibility, at the time) shock British readers, but his double life revealed had led to more than a couple of interviews and prolonged rumblings.

The debate about whether Britain should adopt flying cars as per their American cousins had been pushed right into the faces of the magical community for a bit. Between interviews, a revived interest in his portrait painting talents with the exposure, he'd also been fiendishly busy with people who wanted to help on the sly.

Which is why he'd been down in Bristol all day, and presumably why a tenacious brunette was approaching him here amongst the Muggles.

"Monty." He reintroduced himself after a beat, that being the name the Muggle classic bike enthusiasts who were drinking over at a table nearby in the poky little pub, knew him by. Conversation was circling through Velocettes, Triumph Thruxtons and Nortons ten feet away from them, and as a result, nobody was paying the wizard much attention. Motorbikes might possibly more accessible and easier to charm than cars for the younger generation who wanted to get into flying muggle machines in Britain's skies, after all, more like brooms, easier to attract ladies with…

The girl in front of him was probably not much older than his eldest, Theta. Her accent wasn't local, neither, though, in Bedford, that wasn't out of place at all.

"Anything else?" Came the query from behind the bar. Monty gestured, insinuating clearly he'd like to buy the stranger a drink. His beard twitched he smiled at her.
"When in a pub one tends to drink something, sweetheart." He uttered quietly.

He counted out enough change from one deep pocket and then moved along the bar, putting them out of sight of the group he'd been sat with. They'd be too caught up in in discussing exhaust pipes and two-stroke oil to notice he was missing.

"How can I help, Ms…?" He asked with an approachable smile, after taking a sip of ale and placing it down on a watermarked cardboard mat advertising Charles Wells.

"Portraits, cars, or are you looking for one of my extended family?"

"When in a pub one tends to drink something, sweetheart."

Eha bristled, then forced herself to relax. Even without his time-addled shenanigans, Mr. Pepper was her elder by a number of decades; it was within his allowance to address a young lady so casually. His offer of a drink left her throat barren and dry. She shouldn't indulge, not on a case, but...She scanned the offerings at the back of the bar and pointed to one of the lagers on tap, which the menu boasted as holding a rich caramel color and homemade charm. It would do. It was only polite.

The bartender drew her up a pint, which Eha accepted with a nod of thanks before following the wild-haired wizard to the end of the bar. She took in his appearance as they settled there, from toe to trimmed beard. Octavius -- Monty -- matched his reputation to a T. To one In The Know, he couldn't be more obviously a wizard. To the muggles around them, he was only another eccentric.

Eha sipped at the lager and savored its flavor before lowering her glass to the coaster and turning to answer the man's questions. "Farro," she supplied, turning up her drape to flash the silver Auror's badge pinned at her shoulder. "Eha Farro. And the matter is cars. Namely: the Ford Orion spotted over Bristol this morning."

She tasted the lager again, dabbed a bit of foam from her lip, and turned a further quarter towards Mr. Pepper with the air of regality she'd once used to put a fear of god into lower-year Drumstrang Dregs. "What do you know of it?"

The lass decided to drink with him. This meant she had come to ask questions, rather than straight out arrest him. Well, that was rather refreshing. She didn't look all that old, not much older if at all than his eldest, Theta. He wondered if they knew each other.

The surname and the accent indicated that quite possibly, the two of them hadn't been Hogwarts classmates, in any sense.

She named her reasons quickly, and Monty looked upon her kindly. He enjoyed the slight ill at ease look that had crossed her features for a split second before the haughty mask had slid across them.

"Did you see it?" He asked her, genuinely curious about the matter. "Flew beautifully." His whiskers twitched as he smiled beneath his bushy beard.

"Not much of a looker, admittedly, a Ford Orion[1] but the newer the cars the more resistant they become to charms and tinkering. The less easy they are for a Muggle to maintain. That's why I love classics." He gestured in the vague direction of the group of Muggles he'd been sat with. He continued to smile at the woman beside him, always at ease to talk to strangers, in a father-like manner.

"Did you know it was based on the Ford Escort? You ever driven a car, Eha?" Without invitation he addressed her by her forename. "One day I might teach my daughter, do you know her, Theta, she in Mysteries with my brother."

1.	Photo reference

Eha's lips grew tight. Her grip on the mug, likewise. Weakness though it may be for an Auror, she'd never dealt well with people who broke the unspoken rules of formality. The fact that he'd come out and admitted his connection right off only made it worse -- she'd nearly spit out her drink. Did this daft old bat not realize that repeated citations could get him arrested?

"I did not. Nor did my supervisor." She pulled at one glove with the other hand, the familiar stretch of taunt leather helping to focus her thoughts. "It was, however, seen by at least a dozen muggles. Probably more. 'Beautiful' as the flight may have been, I should hope you'll agree that such a breech is problematic."

Perhaps it was Mr. Pepper's light, fatherly manner that put her so on-edge. Her own father, Aleksander, was affectionate in the home but disciplined in public; they would never converse so flippantly in such a location. That such familiarity did not convey a proper respect for authority only made things worse. Was it her age? Her gender? Would he be so light if she'd been a young man?

The leather slipped from her grasp at the use of her first name. This time she didn't bother hiding her dislike, nor did she attempt to feign interest in the rust-bucket of muggle transport.

"No, I haven't." She picked up her drink again. "Ridden once or twice. Hitch-hiked. Never drove. And I generally don't go any lower in the Ministry than Level 5. The name doesn't ring a bell." Had Theta been one of the Spooks who hounded her for a look at 'the Grim' when she'd been dog-sitting? Eha doubted it. She got the feeling that most of those memos came from men.

"Back to the subject at hand -- I have orders to locate the person or persons responsible for the breech over Bristol. I take it you weren't the one flying, yet you clearly had a hand. I take it, then, that the mechanism was your doing?"

"Back to the subject at hand -- I have orders to locate the person or persons responsible for the breach over Bristol. I take it you weren't the one flying, yet you clearly had a hand. I take it, then, that the mechanism was your doing?"

Octavius took a sip of his drink and contemplated her combination of questions, his bushy eyebrows creeping up together a moment as if showing genuine concern.

"Orders, my dear?" He asked at long last, and stroked his beard. "To find people responsible for some bother with cars when there are dementors plaguing wizarding families all up the country?" He turned his gaze onto her with an air of disdain, the first time he'd been anything but polite and upbeat with her.

"Well," he shrugged, "who am I to question the priorities of our dear Ministry, who keeps us safe from harm." Another sip of his drink bided him time.

"I know the wizard, yes, and I know the vehicle." He stroked his beard again and then put the palms of his hands together. "I wasn't flying, you're quite right. Not today, he didn't need any further guidance." Octavius smiled and glanced away a moment at nearby drinkers passing.

"The vehicle, yes, one of mine, but shipped from America last weekend. I can't stop my international purchasers, Ms Farro, but whether they fly them here in this most restrictive of countries, is up to them." His hands dropped to enclose his glass again and he sat back in the chair, studying the auror's reaction. Was she losing patience with him? Would he back on Level 2 that night being questioned? Would she dare?

"In retrospect it would have been better if he had remembered the invisibility must be set before you take off. These things come with experience."

"Orders, my dear? To find people responsible for some bother with cars when there are dementors plaguing wizarding families all up the country?"

Eha matched "Monty's" disdain with a sour glare. As if the Aurors -- or the Ministry for that matter -- had any true control over dementors. Not even Voldemort got that. At best, one could expect either tenuous loyalty or total eradication. From what she'd seen, the latter option was little more than a fever dream.

"There are a number of patrols currently monitoring and dealing with the dementor issue," she said with minimal movement of the lips and teeth. "But that is not my current assignment. As much as we in the Corps would like to spend our time protecting citizens from magical beasts and rainstorms, the first responsibility of the Ministry is to upholding the law."

She took another long swallow to squelch her anger, then extended it to match his while the man bided his time. She waited until he started speaking again to lower the glass, the covered her lips with a paper napkin to pat them dry. The whole while, she kept her eyes on Pepper, absorbing everything he said.

When he'd finished, she folded the napkin and set it aside with a thoughtful hum. "Interesting. You claim you can't stop your international customers and I suppose that it is true. But, it's also true that you've now admitted to the willful import or export of goods prohibited by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects. That's smuggling, Mr. Pepper. You're quite lucky we're not in Pakistan."

She added the last bit with a forced smile, folding her fingers together to match Monty's casual pose. It did nothing to dissipate the tension between them. They both knew the law. He'd earned a citation for this, and a fine, and maybe some jail time if he pushed his luck, but it wouldn't be coming from her. This was a job for Level 5. The International Magical Trading Standards Body and the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts blokes could fight for it.

Besides, even if she'd wanted to arrest him, Eha did not have the authority. She was still a trainee, which meant she'd have to submit the suggestion to the higher-ups, which meant...

Paperwork. She shuddered at the thought.

"We'll be needing your official statement," she continued briskly, retrieving a roll of parchment and a quill from the charmed pocket of her cloak. She smoothed out the page, revealing the Ministry crest at its masthead, and slid it across the table to Octavius before offering him the quill. "From what I've heard you should be used to this by now. Please be certain to include the gentleman's name, the circumstances of your meeting, and the estimated value of what you sold him. I'm sure Level 5 will be wanting all of that for your future questioning."

Monty gave a little sigh to himself and sat back, most disinterested in the parchment that was spread across the table between them. He'd much rather go back to discussing classic vehicles with the Muggles sat round the corner from him.

"My dear," he replied after a moment, not making eye contact. He placed down his drink out of the way, and held his hand nearest to her to deny the proffered quill, while his other hand went to his jacket as if to draw his wand in the Muggle pub.

"A quill is going to look frankly ridiculous in our surroundings," he clicked the end of his ballpoint pen and gave her a disparaging look for offering the quill in the first place.

When she looked like she might have a go at him for this, he poised the nib of the pen over parchment and caught her eye before contemplating how to begin.

My name is Octavius Montgomery Pepper of…

He scrawled his address across the page smoothly with the pen, as if this were the most normal thing to be using instead of a quill. He'd have used the quill had they not been sat where they were.

He listed his profession, and the details of his company Blue Silver back across the Atlantic, not that the aurors did not already have this detail from the last time.

Pausing a moment, he sucked on the end of his pen and contemplated how forgetful he might be if pushed.

"His name? Well, surely you've got his name my dear, and the car. Not the best, I mean he could have ordered so much better, but he had a feeling you'd all swoop in and seize it, so he was rather conservative…"

But Farro didn't seem to be entertaining any of these little comments, and he wondered if she would be able to drag him back to the Ministry tonight if she was a trainee, or whether she just had to procure a statement.

"So what's the difference between you and a fully-fledged auror?" He asked, changing the punctuation of what he'd written so far and adding the date at the top.

Edit:

Well, the least she could do was to have a drink with him and entertain him if he had to write the damned statement in the pub...!



End