The air was so sickly humid that the bricks he was pressed against left a damp reddish-brown pattern on the back of his shirt and the sweat that had been beading on his furrowed brow was to the point that it was about to brave pouring over the cliffs that were his eyebrows, yet Jack didn’t notice. Instead, he was simultaneously attempting to hide in a narrow alley next to Malkin’s while intently staring at a trio of troublesome teens a few stores down. In particular, he was focusing on the girl in the middle. The one with the too thick make up and dirty blond hair pulled back into a severe ponytail.

He jumped when she suddenly laughed, a bit too loudly, and elbowed one of her mates, a gangly bloke with a pock riddled face, in the side playfully. This caused Jack to both smile woefully as well as grind his teeth in a mix of frustration and irritation. He wanted nothing more than to run up and elbow the bloke as well, though he’d do it with much less playfulness. The lad reeked of bad choices and cheap cologne, and kept putting his arm around her shoulder despite the fact she kept shaking it off. However, at the same time, she looked happy and Jack wanted to see her smile like that again. It had been almost 5 years since he had seen her smile and it made his chest feel tight knowing that it wasn’t for him, nor could it ever be again.

With a resigned sigh, Jack leaned his head back against the brick and stared up at the drab grey sky. Why did it have to be this way? Why did he have to go and get turned into a werewolf? Maybe if he had managed to kill that werewolf 5 years ago, instead of getting infected by it, he could be hanging out with his sister and her mates (preferably in the place of the male one) instead of staring at her from alleyways like a creeper. But, he supposed it couldn’t be helped. The reality of it was that he was a werewolf and his sister thought he was dead, and that was that. Sniffing, he quickly rubbed away a budding tear, leaving a streak of brick dust smeared across his cheek, before staring back down the street at her as she windowshopped.

Yeah, this would just have to do.

Emeline had been shopping at Malkin's, looking at the sale items and clearance. She had managed to find a few things for herself, and the nice lady who worked there actually magically altered the clothes so that they would fit her long, tall frame. The world was made for average sized women, not everybody could be tall and willowy like her. Growing up, her mother had called her a walking clothes hanger. Among other things.

Most of her siblings had also inherited the 'walking clothes hanger' look. Their mother's family was broader in the shoulder, prone to muscle and tall. Her father's side, as far as she knew, was freakishly giant, thin as a wand, and sometimes gangly. She had thought that her brother Zel would be more like her dad's build-- but as he was beginning to fill out, Emeline realized his build, naturally, could be a bit more sturdy.

In her hand was a small bag of clothes--some for her, some for Zel and a couple of little things for the other siblings. She had spent money she really didn't have, but that was a problem for future Emeline.

She walked past an alley, and something caught her eye-- a familiar figure, even from behind. An acquaintance, a kind of friend. A friendly face. He, too, was a werewolf. Jack Howell had not been one as long as she had. Emeline remembered little of her life before being bitten. It had always been a part of her in a way that was tinged with both pride and guilt.

Emeline crept up behind him, taking silent steps in an almost cat-like manner. When she was barely an arm's length behind him, she whispered-- "Who are you stalking?"

There is, or if there isn’t, there should be, a saying: “It is not wise to sneak up on a tense werewolf in a dark alleyway and whisper at them”. Common sense, really.

Actually, it was extremely difficult to sneak up on a werewolf, especially one like Jack, who had honed his newfound super sense of smell to a fine point. However, he was so intensely focused on Sam that he didn’t sense Emeline slipping up behind him. He could smell her and he could hear her, but neither registered in his brain. His hearing and sense of smell were so keen that he had become quite adept at selective smelling, especially when frequenting a crowded and rather rank place like Diagon Alley. After all, you couldn’t have apothecaries, magical menageries and Knockturn Alley in one place without procuring a bit of a stench.

This being said, it came as quite a shock for Jack when she successfully snuck up on him and whispered "Who are you stalking?"

Since Jack’s hunter instincts were still in control, when he heard this whisper he couldn’t stop himself from whirling around, grasping her by her arms and yanking her into the alley, where he shoved her against the wall and snarled, “ ‘oo the ‘ell do ya think…” He quickly realized who he was handling so roughly and immediately released his grip on her arms, stammering “Oh… em… it’s you… Sor—“

Emeline jumped, startled by his sharp turn, his temper. Granted, she did sneak up on him... And she had jokingly accused him of stalking someone.  His movements had been like a hunter's. She should have expected this. However, that did not mean that she had to accept it.

She fought back instinctively, throwing her bag on the ground with a snarl, punching Jack in the face. So what if he had let her go? No way was she going to allow anyone to handle her like that. With a withering stare, she picked her bag up again and checked it's contents calmly,  as if she hadn't just delivered a solid blow to a fuzzy-browed werewolf's face. Emeline looked back at him silently, though ready to pounce if need be.

"You won't be doing that again, will you?" She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Oh… em… it’s you… Sor—“

The words barely slipped from his lips before her fist cut them off, sending him stumbling back into the adjacent wall.

He touched his jaw where her fist had connected and winced. It was definitely going to bruise. Thankfully he had been hit a lot in his life, from neighborhood bullies to drunks who didn't take kindly to be escorted out, so getting one on the jaw wasn't a big deal. In fact, he kinda appreciated it. He had been raised around strong woman who could pack a punch or curse (in the case of his sister, both) so he couldn't help but stare up at Emeline with a mix of admiration and longing. She really was perfect.

"You won't be doing that again, will you?"

"No, ma'am..." He said, shaking his head and quickly regaining his composure, if you could call it that. Her hit had knocked him out of hunting mode and for a moment he had forgotten why he was hiding in an alley. There was a very awkward moment of silence between them while he stared blankly at her , mouth slightly agape in bemusement, trying to remember what he was doing before she punched him.

"Ah!" He exclaimed as it dawned on him that he had lost his quarry. Whirling around, he peered back into the sparse crowd, searching for Sam. He found her easily enough, mostly thanks to that lanky mate of hers that he was hating even more with each passing minute. Motioning to Emeline, he pointed her out "... That'un... 'er...." He said as an answer to her previous question. Then, realizing that he was basically admitting to stalking some girl she didn't know, he quickly clarified, "She's me lil' sista' Sam..."

Sam and her mates had relocated across the street and Jack's heart sank when they detoured into Knockturn Alley. True there were some legit businesses there that hadn't been able to afford High Street prices but mostly there was scummy, shifty or seedy (often all three) scam artists running 'stores' that specialized in all sorts of dark magic or other unsavory goods. He had lived there long enough to know that it wasn't a place for any respectable witch or wizard to be visiting, especially one that was underage. "Why did she go there?" he muttered mostly to himself before adding a bit louder, "... Prolly should follow 'er, for 'er own good, yeah?" He gave Emeline an imploring look, as though he needed her permission or justification to move forward.

Truth be told, she hadn't expected her punch to actually hit him so hard-- just startle him a bit. He didn;t seem upset by it at all, so she wasn't going to bring it up. It looked like an apology simply wasn't necessary. Besides, he moved on quickly to whatever it was that had captured his attention before. His sister-- Sam. She looked close to them in age but it was always hard to tell. She wondered if Sam had gone to school with Zel.

Annnnd she went into Knockturn.

"My brother works in a shop down there, when he's not in school." Emeline said hopefully, "There are some shops there that aren't creepy." Em doubted that Sam was going to go to Knockturn to buy stuff from Sellaphix Apothecary.  "We could follow, if you want...?" She paused, "I have to admit, I didn't expect to be a stalker when I woke up this morning."

"My brother works in a shop down there, when he's not in school. There are some shops there that aren't creepy."

"Hrm... right..." He said uncertainly, eying the trio as they disappeared into the alley. He appreciated her attempts to keep him optimistic but from the looks of Sams' mates, he doubted they were there for any legitimate shopping.

"We could follow, if you want...? I have to admit, I didn't expect to be a stalker when I woke up this morning."

He couldn't see his sister any longer and was getting a bit antsy, so her permission barely had time to depart from her lips before he grabbed her hand and started pulling her across the street. "Eh, it'll be fun, ah promise..." He said over his shoulder as he weaved through the smallish crowd. "We'll be like... Sherlock 'olmes and Doctor... uh... Whatisname..." Jack wasn't a particularly well read youth, to say the least.

Once they slipped into the alley, Jack focused back on the hunt, his eyes searching the crowd and his hand grasping Emelines' in a firm but not overly tight grip. Had he realized they were holding hands, he would have stammered out some impossible to decipher excuse while turning as red as a tomato, but he was far too intent on finding Sam to notice how close Emeline was or how soft her hands were.

"There." He said, stopping abruptly when his eyes locked onto his sister, who was standing alone in the front of a shop doing her best impression of windowshopping, but failing spectacularly at looking interested. "Wha' is she doin'? Where's her mates?" Jack mumbled, his brow furrowing in consternation. Something wasn't right.

Suddenly, the gangly bloke appeared from the space between the shop and the next, nudging her. They spoke a few hushed words, an argument if her body language was any indication, and finally she reached in her purse and handed him a small bag of what seemed to be money. He promptly slipped back into the space and she returned to perusing the goods in the window with disinterest. A moment later, both of her mates and a man Jack recognized as his downstairs neighbor, who always seemed to smell like weird plants and smoke, made their appearance. The neighbor quickly separated from the trio and strolled away as though they hadn't just been doing some shady business in the alley, his eyes darting about suspiciously. He was headed towards Jack and Emeline, so Jack quickly turned to face the wall and pretended to be admiring the aged and mostly faded posted behind him like it was the Mona Lisa. As he passed, Jack got a whiff of those plants again, though this time it was much stronger. Leaning over, he whispered to Emeline "That smell... D'ya know wha' i'is?"

She raised her eyebrows at the tight grip he had on her hand but gladly followed, curious to see where this Sam person was going as well. Jack was clearly concerned for his sister. Yes, he was going about things in the creepiest way, but it was also oddly heartwarming. Em didn't know Jack's history with his sister, but she got the gut feeling that they were estranged. After all, if their relationship was a good one, he wouldn't have been sneaking around like this.

Emeline looked at Jack incredulously when he asked about the smell. What kind of hole did he live in?

"It-- It's gillyweed, Jack." She said carefully, "I smoke it, it's harmless." She tightened her grip on his hand and set her feet firmly so he wouldn't get the urge to run ahead and make a fool of himself. "I could get you some if you'd like."

"It-- It's gillyweed, Jack. I smoke it, it's harmless."

Emeline wasn't the only one restraining Jack at the moment; He was doing a pretty valiant effort himself. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to leap across the distance between the two groups and punch the tall kid in the throat. He couldn't tell you why he hated the kid, but he just did. It was his look... his smell... his very being. Specifically, him being so close to Sam.

Jack wasn't a prude. He cursed, he got into fights, he drank and smoked. When he was younger, he stole stuff from houses and even now, when hungry, he would pocket small foodstuffs from Tescos or Aldis (while telling himself 'who would miss something so small in a big store like this?). He had friends who smoked Gillyweed, though he had never asked the name of the substance, and he had no real opposition to the stuff. That wasn't why he was angry.

Jack knew Sam very well, specifically that she was a 'take things to the extreme' sort of person. She wouldn't stop at a beer or two with friends or just smoking a little gillyweed now and then. Once she got into the minor drugs, the major stuff was soon to follow, if it already hadn't. Perhaps that was why Jack hated the look of this guy so much. It wasn't just that he was obviously attracted to and flirting with Sam, it was also the fact that he was encouraging her to go down a destructive path. Not only that, but, judging by the fact that she had given him the money, he was also using her to get his own fix. This combination made him an enemy in Jacks' eyes and that really was not a good place for anyone.

"I could get you some if you'd like."

Jack was slowly becoming more aware of her hand grasping his, though he hadn't fully realized the implications, and he understood that she was trying to keep him calm. "Cheers but no..." He said, shaking his head and adding "Tha's nawt th' point, innit?" He looked back towards his sister, adding "Sam's nawt th' type to stop with jus' --"

Jack abruptly cut short when he saw that the trio, having finished their business, were starting to make their way back towards the entrance and, thanks to Emeline's inadvertent distraction, managed to already close the distance between the two groups by quite a bit. Turning to run before she saw him, Jack was horrified to find a cart backing into and completely blocking the entrance of the alleyway. He froze and looked at Emeline with a bewildered expression, whispering loudly "What a'we gonna do? She can't see me face... 'e'll kill us!" 

Em released his hand and crossed her arms over her chest. "Jack.  Relax. Act like you're supposed to be here and she can't complain." She said simply, lowing her voice to a whisper,  "If you run, you'll look suspicious. Stop. Calm down." She snaked her hand around his waist and bumped his side playfully, leading him down the street.

Emeline pointed towards The Inkwell, grinning, "That's where I got my tattoo. My neighbor owns the place. He's also my cat's namesake." She let out a little cackle, "Want to get inked?" She put a finger to her chin thoughtfully, "Get a pygmy puff on your ass."  She hoped she could distract him-- but Em didn't know Jack well enough to see just how easily distracted he was. This sort of shit worked on her siblings.