Gracie only beamed more broadly at Branwen’s remark. “I think you’re mixing your Gryffindors and Slytherins, professor,” she grinned, undaunted. “But don’t mind if I do…”

And with that, she let herself be ushered up the ladder. Climbing it with ease, she popped inside the vehicle, catching it on a peak. “Ooh, nice,” she murmured, shifting in her seat. The interior was utterly plush, all smooth, supple leather, the faces on the dashboard ticked steadily, the knobs shone sparkling clean, and the car itself practically vibrated with anticipation– as though mirroring its rebellious owner. Her hands, honestly, itched to touch; she’d ridden in cars before, of course, but Wizard cars were a slightly different story. Anyway, some of the knobs looked like they could do some interesting things—indeed, they hovered, now, over the steering wheel. “It’s very nice,” she flashed Octavius a faint, marveling grin. She let her fall lightly onto the wheel, before gripping it more firmly.

At the sudden draw of attention towards the man’s nephew– which, that was right, he had family here, didn’t he? An older one had graduated last year, though three or four more had remained –Gracie draped an arm over the door and looked down, amusement at the fourth year’s nervous expression drawing that grin into a smirk. She didn’t know him well (being a busy Sixth Year tended to push the younger years to the periphery, particularly those not of Slytherin), or even much of him, other than that he was terrible at Potions and more than a few of his Slytherin classmates found him cute (possibly because of his ineptitude as much as it was in spite of it).

“Where’d you get it?” she slanted the older Pepper a curious look. Ambrose was right; flying cars were illegal in Britain. Raine’s family owned a 1963 convertible Aston Martin (which Gracie could say with relish had been a real pleasure to drive—even when they were being chased by unsavory types and she’d had to put a little more of her shady upbringing to use), but somewhere between sleeping in the car, near the car, and psyching out the car behind her, she’d forgotten to ask where they’d gotten it. (Though, to be fair, when one was making memories with the delicious but dangerous stamp of illegality, that sort of thing tended to take the backseat.) “Did it already come with the charms?”

"Get it?" Octavius exclaimed, "My girl, this whole vehicle was wizard built in America, by my own company. The metalwork, the charms - it's all done by our kind." He waved a hand, "Yes the Muggles have had influence, and yes we may pull their contraptions apart to understand how a combustion engine works without magic, and how fluids and pressure work for brakes, but the more modern and the more full of that electricity that Muggles use, the less inclined a vehicle is to being modified by magic."

He leaned forward and pointed to a protruding switch.
"Go on." He encouraged Gracie in a quieter tone, just to her. She was like him, her eyes had lit up on getting in and her fingers were itching to touch and explore the interior.

As soon as the switch was hit the students around them let out gasp. Although nothing appeared to have happened from Octavius and Gracie's perspective, from everyone else's, the car had vanished, and the ladders were just sticking up into thin air inside the tent.

"Can still hear us though, just not see." He pointed to another switch beside it, "and this one."

At this switch the putter of the engine faded away from everyone and so did the patter of explanation from the owner.
"Now they can't hear us either. So I can say how lovely your herbology professor is, and that if I were not a married man, I'd be taking her for a drink this evening. Right-o that switch again then sweetheart."

"And so then you couldn't hear us, could you?" The dillusioned wizard called to the onlookers who could once again hear the engine and now his voice.
"And that one again too?"

Pop. The car reappeared in the tent and there was a smattering of applause from the more impressionable young people.
"So if you like charms, Muggle studies, transfiguration, or even potions, consider a career with flying vehicles! Plenty of opportunity to travel, come work for my company in America and learn the ropes, but we'll be moving into Britain as soon as we can convince the Ministry to change the law, or well, before if we can!"

He leaned forward to speak to Gracie again, his moustache twitching as he smiled
"So, what do you think? Good, huh? Reckon you could see yourself driving one of these?"

Branwen scampered with an agility beyond her ability out of the car to allow room for the brash Gracie Slant to take her place.  "A boon upon these stones, Mother Hogwarts, I think you for your steadyness!' 

She found herself among the growing throng of students who'd been crowding in.  With Gracie in the cockpit, Pepper began in with what turned out to be an elaborate demonstration of the contraption's attributes.  Branwen didn't hide her astononishment at its many features.  But more than its vanishing act, Branwen dreaded Pepper being so bold as to fly the thing properly.

"You keep that thing just where it is, Mr. Pepper!" Branwen warned the other adult in the space.  "I'll not be shy about being a tell-tale, mark me, sir!"

Then she turned to gathered children, "Students! Repeat after me: Mr. Pepper is a criminal! He's not to be trusted!"

She was smiling now and some of the students laughed and/or incanted at her direction.  "If I ride in a flying car only misfortune and dismemberment can follow!" 

She turned a winking eye up to the be-goateed madman.

She grinned a bit more widely at Octavius’ exclamation. He seemed almost affronted by the very thought of driving a car that wasn’t by his own make. But in hindsight, it wasn’t very surprising; a lot of people tended to be, when “accused” of using the competition’s creations when they could surely use their own. “My apologies,” the teenager murmured, slightly mocking, but it was all in good fun; a visible gleam of good humor shone from her eyes.

She paid close attention as he demonstrated the switches’ functions, still interested despite being well familiar with their concept. At his urging she flipped them, turning them on, and a small, pleased smirk still lit up her features when doing so did exactly what was expected. Concealment from sight, then sound—the little thrill still had yet to leave the halfblood witch. “Tsk,” she smirked at the salesman’s admission, and let it turn into a full-blown grin at the man’s cheek and the professor’s wink. Adorrrrable.

“Oh, definitely,” she grinned, rising from her seat, and with almost rueful note, she continued, “but more along the lines of driving one than selling one, sorry.” She slipped out of the car and onto the ladder. “Good day to you, sir,” she winked, expression feline and cheeky.

And with that, she backflipped off of the ladder and onto the ground, neatly fitting into the little space behind the crowd gathered around it without injury. Swiping a signed copy of the newspaper, she saluted Octavius with it and jauntily backed away—waving at Branwen and Ambrose before ducking out of the tent.

---

Gracie out! : D

"Students! Repeat after me: Mr Pepper is a criminal! He's not to be trusted!"

"Hey, he's not a criminal, he's my uncle!" Ambrose protested from the floor to his herbology professor, hands on his hips and cheeks ruddy. Around him some of his classmates repeated and giggled, so his protest lost impact.

"If I ride in a flying car only misfortune and dismemberment can follow!"

Slant descended from the car with grace and talent of being in the quidditch team and vanished out of the tent looking smug. He also wished she'd tripped up on getting out of the car and fallen flat on her face, but that was something else entirely. Ambrose hoped that she wasn't up to something and would get his uncle into trouble. The car was only levitated after all… at least he hoped.

"… more along the lines of driving one than selling one, sorry."

"Ha! Yes, I quite empathise my dear - one day, write me and we'll arrange." He gave her the room to vanish away and batted off the comments from the Professor about being a criminal.

"Nonsense, if you keep your arms inside the car, you'll be fine." He assured her, his moustache twitching with amusement at her wink. He'd take Branwen Strangely for a circuit round Hogwarts if he were younger for sure!

"Now who's next to come and see?" He peered down the ladder and grinned to Ambrose.

 

End - timeline's moved on.