6:03 pm

Several hours had passed since the awkward encounter in Solomon Carsairs’ office on Level 2. That meant several hours had passed since Zora had given her ‘the look’. Iona had spent the afternoon meeting with werewolf registry and talking through current policies and where they were with management. The entire experience had made her hilariously awkward misunderstanding with Carstairs and Zo seem delightfully pleasant. with Bagnold semi-coperating thanks to her agreeing to his 2 requests, werewolf registry had become her new battle to enter into.

Iona still clearly remembered having the register on Level 4 when she’d been released from St Mungo’s. She’d chosen to go alone, not wanting to share the unpleasantries with anyone else. And it had been deeply unpleasant. Werewolf registry were known for the their cold manner and reams of forms. Someone in the position of being forced to register themselves a monster needed a supportive smile, but she hadn’t gotten that. She’d got scowls and comments about karma. Where was the karma now? She was their boss and she’d be damned well making sure they upped their game.

As such, the awkward encounter had been rather pushed to the back of her mind until it was time to meet Zora in the atrium. They’d agreed on a touch of Christmas shopping in Diagon Alley this evening after work. Maybe get a drink or three afterwards or during. Iona was tired but they were less than a week from Christmas and she needed to actually start feeling the spirit.

Zo was stood near the fireplaces, no crimson robes in sight. Iona flashed her a quick grin as she made her slow way over. Because, you know, every movement she made nowadays was slow. Click click click went the cane on the marble floor until she arrived at her wife.

“Cat’s out of the bag now, hm?” She greeted with a lopsided grin. “You were right,” she hooked Zora’s right arm with her left for the extra support and planted a very quick kiss on her cheek “he’s ugh.”

Zora shook her head slowly seeing Iona walking towards her through the atrium wearing smart work trousers. Her red hair was shining against the occasional flash of green fire.

"That poor man. I think you've paid him back for all the snarky things he's said to me this month," Zora replied with a smile. It had been a while since she'd seen Carstairs set back like that.[1] She herself had all day to cool down from her own embarrassment. Now, at least, everyone knew who Zora's wife was and what a bad idea it would be to do anything silly with that information. It was a bit of pressure off, really.

"Here, trade me." Zora handed Iona a coffee and slipped her bag over her shoulder. A cane left Iona with one free hand most of the time.

They Floo'd to the Leaky Cauldron but were stopped by a queue at the brick portal. Zora stepped to the side to see what the hold-up was.

"What now..." she sighed. Up ahead a knot of people were all having a heated discussion. Wands were out, a little boy was sniffling.

1.	21 Dec 2011 - How Ugh Can He Really Be?

There were many reasons for why Iona loved Zora Roh. One of them was the thoughtful gestures like the cup of coffee in her spare hand as the stepped from the pub into the overcrowded courtyard. As she took a sip of her coffee, the witch’s ginger eyebrows knitted together as blue eyes scanned the group of confused witches and wizards.

“Merlin’s sake…” Iona lowered the coffee and started pushing forward, using her wooden cane to land on a few toes. “Oops, sorry. S’cuse me. Thanks. Thank you. Sorry.” A few disgruntled looks and comments came until they saw the stick. Possibly the one and only advantage of her cane was that no one in public wanted to argue with a witch with a walking cane. Then, as if by magic, the way parted and the redhead looked down at the snotty nosed kid and his guardian. “Maybe make his first time when it’s not so busy, hm?” She rose an eyebrow before glancing back to her wife. “Do the honours?” Her wand hand was taken by the rather lovely coffee.

A few huffs and puffs and moments later accompanied with a touch of snazzy magical brick moving, and the pair were finally in Diagon Alley. And wasn’t it magical! The shops were lit up festively for Christmas, and were those house elves singing carols?

“So, Mr Ugh, does he get some kick out of telling people off? I feel like I made his day saying that I didn’t want to work with you. Like he had the excuse to take one of his puny aurors down a level and keep that enormous ego of yours in check.” Iona grinned playfully as they slowly made their way through the crowd. “I like your ego, don’t change it. Oh! And those pinstripes! Oh, Zo. I don’t know how you haven’t hexed him yet.”

“Right where to first?”

Together, Iona and Zora were unstoppable. They'd flustered the boss, told off a child, and were on their way to - well, that bit was a surprise. They'd agreed on Christmas shopping, but Zora had something else arranged. One good shock deserved another didn't it? But not yet. When Iona asked which way next, Zora gestured vaguely and led the way, filling the unanswered question with work gossip.

"He's not so bad," she said with a smile. She'd seen Solomon Carstairs in all kinds of situations. But, "first time I've seen him flustered. He should get a medal for not getting both  feet stuck in his mouth."

Carstairs was 'ugh' but as far as bosses went, he wasn't unfair. Just a paternalistic, slightly sexist, stodgy, pin-striped politician. She narrowed her eyes in thought wondering if he could still duel ... Eh.

She sipped her coffee. "Probably not the first time you're going to get that reaction, should warn you. If you want a really good one, find Ed Pratt. Remember Pratt?" Zora and Pratt had been briefly partnered.

They passed Eeylops and Gringotts but Zora hadn't paused once to check into windows even, just strolling at a leisurely pace. At the second-hand robe shop, she stopped and stood away a little to look down at Iona's cane.

"You good? That stick of yours alright? I dunno."

Bruce didn’t think much over the lack of response about where they were headed, although she did notice that they slowly meandered past a few shops that she’d presumed her wife might want to pop into. There were still things to get to be ready for Christmas. Iona wanted to get a few joke gifts from Weasley’s for her parents who loved the oddity of wizarding contraptions, and they still had nothing for Zora’s. Iona’s suggestion of purchasing the muggle book she’d seen, Lillian Faderman’s ‘The Gay Revolution’, had gone down like a wingless hippogriff. Iona didn’t like her parents-in-law, and the feeling was clearly mutual.

“Your annoying partner turned boss?” Bruce remembered being told about the Gringott’s incident[1] with them being thrown together with no notice. Pratt had been the one that had put Zora’s irritation at his presence down to having just started the ‘blob’. Iona remembered her frustration at yet another sexist idiot to deal with. Bruce hadn’t really had to deal with much sexism. But she’d seen the look of surprise at showing up at meetings when people expected a big burly man called Bruce to walk through the door and they got her.

“I’ll remember that.” She was quite certain she could come up with a reason to pop in on the Head Auror. See, Bruce loved a good surprised reaction. She guessed Zora would have had she not been quite so embarrassed. Being called in to be told off had that effect on someone.

Zora suddenly stopped and stepped away a little, looking down at the wooden cane in Iona’s right hand. Ginger eyebrows lowered as she frowned in mild confusion.
“You mean my old lady walking device? Yeah…”

1.	Goblin Breath

Zora looked at it and shook her head. "Yeah, no, it's a bit rubbish, though, isn't it? A bit sad, really. Let's get a new one."

With that, Zora began walking towards the ancient Ollivander's wand shop. "Surprise..." she said with weakly wiggling fingers.


Inside, a bell jingled predicting the entry of customers. The shop never seemed to change much. The only thing it ever did was get smaller. Smaller because children grew taller and because more and more wands accumulated. The space just got ever more cozy and crowded with the most magical things. Something else had changed, too. More and more, Garrick Ollivander's niece and only apprentice Tamzin was running things. Only when needed, but the need came with more frequency.

Tamzin Ollivander emerged from the back, tracing her way along the shelves, her fingertips following the contour of the mountains of little wand boxes. Her bright whiteblonde hair was tucked behind her ears, and she wore a thick apron that went nearly to the ground. Her white sleeves were rolled up, and as she approached, she slipped on a pair of violet-lensed spectacles. She jingled with jewelry

"Aura Perciperium," she incanted.

"Zora, good, hullo!" Tamzin greeted the Auror. She knew her by her voice and steady river of an aura. The witch coming in after, well, Tamzin would know her by context. (and the particular quality of a werewolf's aura.) It was Iona, Zora's wife and Tamzin's childhood friend. This was the first time she'd perceived her with her spell - it reminded her of an untamed thicket, warm but prickly with a distinctly lunar-oriented direction.

She smiled and held out her hand, Zora took it and shook it. "Tamzin, good to see you. This is Iona." Tamzin turned, her unseeing eyes passing through the red-headed witch. There was a pang of sorrow, but Tamzin smiled through it. In school, she and Iona had learned some painful truths and had learned them together. A friendship vexed. But it was decades past and they were both clearly living their best lives.

"Iona," Tamzin said.

Surprise…

It appeared Zora had been planning something. Whatever Christmas shopping that she’d lined up could be forgotten about because her wife wanted her to get a new cane? As far as gifts went, it was definitely different. It was with a mild expression of suspicion that Iona followed Zora into Ollivanders, gripping her cane tightly to help on the uneven cobbles.

The shop was as most remembered it. Small and claustrophobic but magical. It was where a witch or wizard’s journey truly began. Iona remembered her own visit here, she and her muggle parents in awe of the shop and Diagon Alley. She’d been clueless and completely overwhelmed by it all. They’d brought Waverley years ago, when she’d had her letter.

Emerging from the shelves behind the desk, a ghost from her past came into full sight. Or, was sight a poor word? Iona shifted somewhat uncomfortably as she came to stand beside her wife. She hadn’t known Tamzin was running the shop now. She hadn’t known a lot about Tamzin.

Zora, having no idea about the two’s former friendship, introduced her, and Iona watched as Tamzin turned towards her. Now, she knew Tamzin couldn’t see, but she was looking right at her, and she hadn’t made a sound.

“Hey, Tam.” Iona muttered, leaning against the counter and tentatively reaching out to give Tamzin’s hand a quick squeeze. No hard feelings. The past was in the past. A long way off in the past.

Tamzin smiled and looked away. Hearing Iona's voice, she didn't realize how much it would affect her. But after a moment, she animated again. Today was all about good news! Tamzin moved away and chattered like a spring bird as she disappeared into the many shelves. Her voice carried easily.

"New head of the Werewolf Wing! Back on your feet, Zora told me everything, what a triumphant tale. I was so pleased when she came to see me, a proper Auror in the shop, and with such an interesting order. You know I don't just turn twigs all day, people don't know that."

Tamzin reappeared carrying a long thin box. It looked like it could be an Engorgio'd wand case. She set it on the countertop and began to unwrap it. There was a paper label on one end with raised glowing writing. It said 'Iona - wolf' and a date. 20-11-2011

Zora meanwhile noticed the change in Iona; it was more than a surprise Christmas ambush. Her Auror instincts told her it was something about the wand-maker herself. What it could be, she didn't know. Zora didn't remember her wife ever having spoken about Tamzin Ollivander or had any guess at when they would have met.

Zora nudged Iona and gave her a little furrowed-brow smile. "Hey, lighten up. I got you an expensive pressie. Look."

Tamzin reached out with her palm up to ask for Iona's hand. "No, feel."

Mildly perplexed, Iona cast her gaze sideways to her wife. Zora had never been a blurter. She’d never felt the need to share a life story with strangers, yet she’d come to Tamzin Ollivander, who as far she knew was a stranger to Iona, to order something and tell her all about the curse and the new job? She wasn’t sure if she was more confused by this or the concept of such an interesting order. A new cane. What on earth made a new cane so interesting?

Tamzin reappeared with a long case that Iona found herself staring at in between glances at her former school friend.

"Hey, lighten up. I got you an expensive pressie. Look."
"No, feel."

Iona very briefly frowned. It was hard to lighten up when you were ambushed in a wand shop by your wife with your former friend who you once tried to kiss only to find out that no, she was not a lesbian and you had ruined that rapport.

After a fleeting delay, Iona placed her coffee cup on the counter and reached her hand out, letting Tamzin take it. Almost instinctively, the red headed witch allowed her eyes to close as her hand was placed on the handle of the ‘expensive pressie’. Smooth varnished wood, but not too perfect. She could feel the natural knots. Intricately carved. She allowed her fingers to trace the carving, closing around the edges as she started to imagine what it could be.
“A wolf.” she whispered with a smile. But it wasn’t just a wolf. Iona could feel magic in the wood. Not like a wand, not as strong. But there was magic there.

Thin fingers traced down, to the stem of the stick, feeling the twisting of the wood, as if it had been bent into submission to twist around into a delicate spiral. It was, she imagined, as beautiful to the eyes as it was to the touch.

Blue eyes flashed open to glance from Tamzin to her wife.
“You ordered this?” Was that a tear in her eye? Nope. Must have been the musty air of the wand shop.

Tamzin didn't need to guide Iona's hands. She seemed drawn to the object as well she should, It was created especially for her. Zora had spoke haltingly of her wife at first, hardpressed to speak from her heart. But after some tea and encouragement, Tamzin had coaxed out what was important. The struggle of the curse, the feeling of being at a disadvantage when everything around her was moving so quickly. The new cane had practically carved itself.

But Tamzin hadn't heard the news about the Werewolf Wing until just that day, same as everyone else. It was the talk of London! The timing was fateful and it made her all the more proud to be a part of it. Tamzin freed the cane entirely from its wrapping so Iona could take it.

Wasn't often that Iona was stunned silent, and Zora smiled. She'd bloody nailed this gift. Iona seemed happy and Zora was just as awed at the quality of the work.

“You ordered this?”

"Yeah," she chuckled. "Yeah, I did. A month ago. It was going to be for Christmas, but timing worked out."

She didn't need to ask if she liked it. It was badass. "If you don't want it, I'll use it."

Tamzin scoffed in mock indignation. "If she doesn't want it, you should drag her to St. Mungo's. Please, Iona, try it. I want to know that it fits, make sure it suits you."

Iona had the cane fully in hand now, eyes sweeping over the main wooden stem before falling on the handle carved into that intricate wolf’s head. It was beautiful, a mastery. Probably far too much time had gone into it and far too much money, but she did not care. Her wife and former friend were talking about how she would want it and Iona laughed, shaking her head.

“She wants it, don’t worry, ladies.” No trips to St Mungo’s needed, thank you very much.

Iona didn’t tend to pick out nice things for herself. She was a witch of practicalities. Cargo trousers, jumpers, boots. She rarely wore jewellery and almost never bothered with make-up. She was messy, one only had to peer into her office at work a mere 2 days after starting. But this? This wasn’t vain or just ‘nice’. It was thoughtful and rather overwhelming, and if she wasn’t careful, she would shed more than one tear. Because her whole adult life had revolved around wolves. She’d hunted them and she was one now. She’d come full circle and she needed to damn well own it. Zora knew this; Zora was one of the few people who’d made her see this.

Try it. Iona lowered the stick to the floor, perhaps a little too much vigour in her movements. Wood hit the wood panelled floor with a sharp *snap* and some sort of shock wave came from the base, shooting straight for Zora. Bruce’s eyes immediately widened as she watched her wife get knocked backwards by an invisible force.

“It’s broken!” she dropped the stick, shaking her head in surprise. “What the hell, Tam. Zo?” She’d ended up flying into the wall with some considerable force. Bruce limped over, grabbing her wife’s hand. “Shit, you okay?”

The old wand shop was used to spontaneous magical eruptions, combustions, illuminations, conflagrations, snaps, crackles, and zaps. It was part of the process really, an ancient and illustrious ritual of matching magical items with their mages. The cane Tamzin crafted for Iona Ballentyne was nothing close to a wand, but it had the temperament of its owner!

The burst of magic rattled the windows, fluttered parchment reciepts from their spikes, and jostled piles of wand cases. Tamzin had ducked behind the desk, and came popping back up, her hair all crazy and her glasses askance. She was cackling like a mad inventor.

Zora was on her bum looking shocked. The only thing in the room living or otherwise that hadn't gotten a bit of a kick was Iona herself.

"Oh fine, just here on the floor if you need me!" Zora let Iona help her up. "Tamzin said she'd added something special. This what you meant, Ollivander?"

Tamzin clapped her many-ringed fingers, her bracelets jangling. Her smile was giant and light from the lamp flickered on her violet spectacles.

"If you ever want to level the playing field!"

Not broken. Zora was on her bum and the wand maker was cackling, all crazy hair and purple glasses. Iona couldn’t help but grin in shocked amusement as she hauled Zora to her feet. It really was quite the scene, one similar, no doubt, to the experience some young witches and wizards had upon finding their first wand.

Something special indeed! With far less agility that she would have demonstrated years prior, the witch bent down to pick back up the cane. She held it with far more caution than before. No one she’d felt the magic to her touch. Powerful spell, that.

"If you ever want to level the playing field!" Tamzin claimed with glee and Iona let out a laugh, throwing her head back.

“Oh boy!” she chuckled. “I love it.” And the awkwardness was at least gone, even if Zora’s rump may have been a little sore. She was hardy.

With far more delicacy, Iona lowered the cane once more to the floor. As the base touched the ground beneath, she winced, biting her lip as if anticipating a similar reaction. When nothing rattled and she didn’t once more have a wife at her feet, she smiled once more, leaning her weight against it.

“I’ve always wanted people falling at my feet.” Blue eyes scanned to Zora. “Helpless to resist. You’re going to regret this so bad.” Such a mistake, this spell. Iona loved it.

Her spare hand grabbed the old cane, which she placed on the counter between them and Tamzin. “Use it for spare wood or something. You’re wasted on wands, Tam. Wasted.” This was the sort of thing, to someone like Bruce, that meant so much more than a wand at her stage in life.

Tamzin beamed with pride. She well knew how good she was and it was always nice to hear it.

"Give it a few days - he'll get acclimated to your intentions. It's not a proper wand, you know, just an enchanted core of holly inside ironwood. And that's a redheart and maple inlay."

Tamzin took the old cane, a dead stick really and probably no good for a wand but you never could tell. She'd take some time with it later, see what it was made of and if it had any life in it. You really did never know.

Zora joined Iona at the counter and regarded her wife with chagrin even as she spoke to the wandmaker.

"Not so sure I'd be thanking you, Ollivander. She's going to be insufferable with that thing." She smiled. "But really, it's stunning. Better than I imagined."

"And that's why we always say to opt for Ollivanders," Tamzin said pleased. Without needing to look, Tamzin pulled out a small jar of polish. "If he starts getting dull, this should do it. Apply with a soft rag."

Zora smiled, leaning back to get a proper look at Iona with the cane at her side. It fit her beautifully and the inlay was a reflection of her hair.

It was hard to explain, but Iona felt a certain power in the cane. Nothing like in the wooden stick she’d just handed over. As Tamzin said, it wasn’t like holding a wand. Not that sort of power. This was weaker and different. It felt good in her grip, like it was meant to be there. It wasn’t any cane. It was her cane. Made for her. Special. Very little had made her feel special in the past few years. She’d felt instead like she was slowly being dragged down.

Iona twisted the stick in her grip, taking in the red inlay peppering the wood. She’d not previously noticed that and was suddenly finding it rather difficult to not get emotional about the care and thought that had gone into this gift.

As she listened to Tamzin, Iona couldn’t help but question the use of the pronoun ‘he’ when referring to the cane. A he, as if it had a sense of self, a soul. He. The only ‘he’ in their house was the cat!

Zora was staring with the gorgeous grin on her face, and despite the gratitude and glee at her gift, Iona felt slightly uncomfortable with Tamzin there even if she couldn’t see. It happened to be a very strange mix of emotions. Tamzin wasn’t even an ex. She hadn’t even been interested. But there was still so much awkward feeling still there from not only the event itself but the after effects.

“Shall we go road test?” She presumed it was already paid for.