“Got to get something, you know… smart.”

A tiny bell rang above the door as the Pepper brothers stepped inside. It was late afternoon in December, and the boys were combining catching up with some last minute Christmas shopping. Their cousins, Eta and Zeta, were both over at Stardust rehearsing A Christmas Carol[1] and the family were all booked to see the show over Christmas. Truth be told, he’d have appreciated a female cousin’s gaze upon his choice of outfit in the years before, but he trusted Tim even more of late, and at least he’d not be rude about it, if he accidentally picked something hideous. 

Twilfitt and Tatting plunged the boys into a muffled space, a stark contrast to the bustling Alley outside, complete with questionable carol singers. The walls were covered with racks of robes, and several slowly-moving mannequins dotted around the shop bore heavy velvet cloaks. A warm fire burned in the grate, popping and crackling with fir branches, the smell of which permeated the space pleasantly.

If anything, the cost of robes here would be out of Ambrose’s price range, but a wise colleague on Level Four had tipped him off that there was a discount rail hidden at the back of the shopping. Ambrose said wise, but he did class anyone other than himself wise at work still. He’d been an apprentice beast handler for six months now, and had enjoyed every second of it, even the fiendishly tricky paperwork. It was as if life was finally showing him what the hell of school had all been for.

1.	Dec 23 Bah, Humbug!

“Couldn’t you just wear what you did for the wedding?” Tim suggested again. They’d both turned out nicely back in the summer for Francis and Gabrielle’s wedding. He followed Ambrose across the plush carpet. glancing left and right for other customers in case it was someone he didn’t want to run into. Twilfitt was where some of the stuck up Slytherins bought their robes. “Or what you wore for that Ministry party…?” His voice seemed to be swallowed up by all the soft surfaces in the shop like muffliato.

“Noooo,” Ambrose intoned in a low voice, waltzing haphazardly round the first mannequin who extended his arms out to show off a waistcoat with a pattern and colour that reminded Tim of chrysanthemums.

“I don’t think Moira’s bothered if you’re wearing new clothes.” Ambrose shot Tim a look which only encouraged his brother. “Come on, it’s clear you’ve still got a thing for her.” Tim had sort of understood it. Moira had been a quiet, thoughtful one at school, and seemingly unbothered by Ambrose’s cack-handedness. He could totally see Ambrose going for an older girl who could keep him in line.

“Shuddup.” Ambrose’s fingertips found his wand in his coat pocket and he sent a jabbing jinx at Tim.
“Hey!” Tim exclaimed, “Don’t want to set the place on-”


The bat[1] hit Tim square in the face, flapping frantically. Ambrose’s jaw fell slack in surprise. A bat wasn’t at all what he was expecting to see in Twilfitt and Tattings, and he looked down at the wand in his hand in suspicion. He was all good on that jinx, it didn’t sprout bats from his wand.

“Ambr-!!” Tim exclaimed, hands to his face, wrestling with the bat, eyes screwed shut.
“Hold still!”

Ambrose rushed forward, then putting aside his wand reached out with both hands, unafraid of a bat. Which was less than could be said of an older witch stepping out of the fitting room beside them. With a swoosh of the curtain she began an ear-piercing scream only matched by the bat, who managed to launch itself off Tim’s head and straight at the screaming customer.

Thinking quickly, Ambrose seized a hat off a nearby mannequin and tried to scoop the bat up into it, but the flailing arms of the aged witch beat him off, her numerous glittering rings set with gemstones as sharp as her long, manicured purple fingernails. Instead, she seized the door and threw it open.

“VAMPIRE! I tell you! Vampire!”

... she shrieked in a voice that could have easily refereed a Hogwarts quidditch match without amplification charm. He flailing arm struck the bat and threw it across the shop where it vanished into one of the racks, squeaking and protesting.

Ambrose was about to jump to action to find it when-.



Jump in!

1.	No ordinary bat, a rather incompetent one, and certainly one not meant to be out in the day!

The bell rang and the old witch came bursting out with her arms flailing, colliding shoulders with Rigel. He turned, both worried and annoyed, to see where she intended to go at that speed and with such little space to slow down.

She was shrieking about vampires. Oh well, thought Rigel, not my place.

He continued in after rubber banding and observing the woman. He heard the shriek of a trapped animal, mamed or harmed. Maybe that was just how it sounded but to Rigel it screamed of pain. Higher pitched than a kitten’s first meow and akin to the frequency of birds chirping at dawn in Florence.

He saw the Pepper brothers. He wasn’t exactly sure what he just walked into.

“What the hell are you two doing?” he said, placid in his tone but sincere with his questioning. His annoyance from the witch may have leaked into his voice.

Merlin, here was one of those Slytherins he’d been on the lookout for. Tim clocked Acrux who was a few years ahead of him at school, and the year above Ambrose if he’d still been at school.
“Shopping,” Tim retorted, before he could think wisely, “Ambrose what the -?” Having been blind to his older brother’s bewildered look at his wand after the bat had adhered itself to Tim’s face, he was fully prepared to believe Ambrose had conjured the bat by accident.

“Here, here,” Ambrose had vanished beneath the line of clothes racks and was crouched, in full beast handler mode, stalking the bat. From the sounds of the very high-pitched squeaking and the fluttering of wings, it was somewhere within the rows of cloaks. The former Gryffindor’s voice attempted to soothe the poor bewildered mammal while he tracked it down.

Rigel was surprised by the deleterious manner in which Timothy replied. There was no need for house politics here and Rigel was way too tired for it. However his words escape his mouth before the thought crosses his mind. He never fully thinks before speaking. Sometimes a blessing but here; a curse.

“It’s a bat, not a dog. Compassion means nothing. They’ll bite you all the same.”

He went up to Amberose, who dropped out as far as Rigel could remember, and stood in normal posture in juxtaposition of his crouched demeanor. Quite the imagery for Tim, Rigel imagined.

Ambrose parted the cloak tails around his head and caught a glimpse of a wing. He was aware of Tim’s voice and another’s but thought it was one of the shop assistants demanding to know what they were up to.

“It’s a bat, not a dog. Compassion means nothing. They’ll bite you all the same.”

The bat was fast climbing one of the robes, quietening down and Ambrose withdrew his head from the material, wondering who could have said such a daft thing. Ah, that explained it. Rigel, who had been in the year above him until summer.

“What do you know?” Ambrose frowned, “It’s my job to deal with stuff like this.” His chest swelled a little in pride of saying that. The hat from the mannequin was still in his hand, and the thing was now stood the other side of Rigel, patting its bald head with confusion. “Er, you might wanna mind out…” Ambrose nodded behind the Slytherin, despite the comment, the mannequin was about to run its stitched fingers through Rigel’s dark curls in search of the hat.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” The assistant had appeared from a back room, to some merry miracle, it seemed they were oblivious to the screaming customer.

“We were just browsing,” Tim answered quickly, trying to think on his feet. “Thanks. Why don’t you try the hat on, Rigel?” He gestured to the hat in Ambrose’s hand. It was only then that he properly saw the hat. A great explosion of colour, feathers and grandeur. He imagined the price tag was more than Ambrose’s annual wages, and hoped to Merlin he’d not damaged it with trying to catch the bat.

Rigel wasn’t affected by the mannequin brushing through his hair in search of the superfluous hat. He liked the messy hair look; Rigel cannot show weakness either in this crowd.

“Thanks. Why don’t you try the hat on, Rigel?”

To Rigel, a rare boy who seldom feels shame, this challenge was accepted. However while Timothy was covering for the three miscreants he had noticed that Ambrose’s retort was defensive. Rigel often found himself threatening others with an air of superiority. A poor habit on his part and surely not a tool he wanted to implement here. Girls he had no problem with, men were the issue. The fault in that lay with Rigel.

“Tim your taste is exquisite.” Naivety was in his voice, seemingly unaffected by what Tim was trying to achieve. Rigel grabbed the hat out of Amberose’s hands, gently it was expensive after all, and put it on his head.

He looked towards the assistant that interrupted the battle of quips between boys desperately trying to prove themselves to each other and selves, “Sir, I think I’ll take it. Does it suit me you think?” A redundant question to someone hired to sell, Rigel knew the answer coming out of his mouth and almost cut him off with the excitement of wanting to buy it.

“However, I still need some robes. Could you check in the back and see if the tailor is in? I’d like to be fitted. I also promised my friends here their robes, so whatever they want - of course boys within reason.”

He was genuine. He’s trying his best to be kind, well received. Not that they needed the charity.

Thank Merlin for Tim! Ambrose automatically lifted his hand at the suggestion of the hat, and without missing a beat, Rigel lifted it from his grasp. The former Gryffindor felt an admiration towards his conspirators, especially as Rigel affixed the rather over-the-top item to his head. His jaw went a little slack in surprise at how well it actually did look on the older boy’s head. Talk about being able to carry off a hat. His glance back to his younger brother only confirmed the mutual surprise.

“… could you check in the back and see if the tailor is in?” Good thinking, send the member of staff away again. Hopefully he could capture the bat before they got back. He’d release it safely once he’d checked it wasn’t harmed, of course.

Masked by the nearest rail of clothes, Ambrose gave Rigel a thumbs up in approval of this move.

“I also promised my friends here their robes, so whatever they want - of course boys - within reason.” Tim tilted his head quizzically behind both of them, but said nothing until the assistant stepped out again.

“Nice one Rigel. I wasn’t actually serious about the hat though-“
“I dunno, suits him.” Ambrose grinned and Tim paused to exhale.
“He’s not even being sarcastic.” Tim agreed, gesturing to Rigel’s potential hat purchase. That sort of attire took confidence to pull off, atop of cash. “Ambrose will you catch the poor thing, otherwise we’ll both be measured up.” Rigel couldn’t be serious about the last bit he’d said. He was stalling.

“Honestly… you don’t have to buy the hat, mate.” Tim shrugged awkwardly, hands in pockets. 

“Honestly… you don’t have to buy the hat, mate.”

Rigel felt the camaraderie come out. He smiled, “Don’t be so squeamish, after we let the bat go we’ll have plenty of time for shopping. We’ll see how you feel about the hat then.”

Rigel saw the bats wings refurberate the clothing rack.

“Amber, I mean this is your area of expertise right? What can I do?”

This is one of Rigel’s tricks. He created a knowledge gap for Amberose to fill. To make him feel good about filling it and to make him feel superior. Rigel liked people having a false sense of superiority. He knew what to do, maybe not the right thing to do but at least some things. He needed to practice how to make friends. How to not threaten people without meaning to.

Appearing at the top of the lines of hangers, the bat had been busy catching its breath while the teenage wizards discussed. Its tiny eyes blinked against the light in the shop and it wiped remnants of velvet fluff from its little face. It surveyed the scene, reasoning that its current position would be a poor place to re-attempt what it had been trying when that boy’s face had got in the way.

“Amber, I mean this is your area of expertise right?”

The bat let out a longer, screech which punctuated the conversation between the boys, and it seemed to fling itself across the room in the vague direction of a grand mirror in the middle of the shop. Wings flailing, but beating, it seemed to do a mid-air roll right at the glass, and then with a resounding crash, the bat was gone, and the mirror in pieces.

Sprawled on the floor beneath, still screaming, however, was Cass Motley. A vision of long blonde hair, bright purple cloak, and dramatic gestures. Her eyes were screwed shut, her arms covering her head in foetal position on the carpet. Then, suddenly, her eyes opened wide and the screaming stopped.

“I - I did it!” She exclaimed, “Bloody hell, I actually did it!” She looked around herself, not yet taking in the scene, “Two legs, two arms, head, clothes!” Her reaction was akin to a child at Christmas unwrapping the best present they had received in their few years. Her hands patted each of the aforementioned parts in turn, to be absolutely sure they were there.

A voice behind her began to berate her, possibly about the mess, but Cass was too elated to bother about the mirror right now. Pointless pieces of glass to her. Instead she double took at the flustered one’s companion - the tall dark one. Now there was a face she’d happily gaze on. Her lips twisted into a suggestive close-lipped smirk.

“We need to cont-“ Ambrose began to instruct, taking charge again. Only, the bat had catapulted itself out of the rack of cloaks and into free space, as if making a bid for freedom with its long wings. Tim instinctively ducked, too wise to take a second face-full of bat. His face filled with horror as the bat struck the mirror and in the blink of an eye was no longer a bat.

The mirror shattered noisily and Ambrose instinctively glanced to the direction in which the assistant had just gone to fetch the tailor from. They were all going to be in so much trouble! No one was ever going to believe it was an animagus and not Ambrose and his unreliable magic.

“You’re - you’re the bat?” Ambrose addressed the pale blonde haired woman on the floor, his questions falling over each other to get out of his lips. “What the heck - we thought you were just a normal bat - you flew into my brother’s face - why didn’t you transform earlier?” 

“You’re - you’re the bat?” Here we go, Rigel thought. Poor kid has never seen an animagus transform - or was it the extremely beautiful girl that did the transformation. “What the heck - we thought you were just a normal bat - you flew into my brother’s face - why didn’t you transform earlier?” He didn’t sound so bad, Amberose stood well.

Rigel put his right arm around Amberose and had a cheeky smile, did that thing he always did when he wanted to be confident, moved his tongue over the edge of his left canine.

“Excuse my friend here,” he shook his right arm and massaged Amberose’s right shoulder while letting out a stifled laugh, “he’s not used to seeing beautiful vampires. Shame really, you can’t see your own reflection. You’re missing quite the sight, love.”

Rigel removed his arm, gave Amberose a nice pat on the back showing his jocular nature. Hoping he’d pick up that he was just teasing and also he was terrible at talking when surprised. Grabbed the hat off his head, pulled it to his chest and smiled, shifted it to his left hand. He walked up to the pulchritudinous woman. Extended his hand the only way he knew how, lead with his right foot extending his arm as he stepped forward and his left foot soon followed. A smooth transition into a walk and handshake.

“I’m Rigel, nice to meet,”

“What the hell is going on here?” Oh, right. The assistant stood there with the tailor both wide eyed and gaped at the mouth.

Rigel let his shoulders relax and kept his smile in good fashion. He clenched his jaw twice as he normally does when he needs to act quickly.

“We were just talking about you! God, glad you could get the tailor. My girlfriend was late and she is going to help me pick out the clothes. I’ll take the hat too and pay for whatever damages we caused.” He winked, flashed his beautifully charming smile accompanied by his perfectly lined teeth.

“I know you guys have a private foyer, would you mind getting that ready for us?”

"Uh," both looking at each other, "yes sir." They scurried off, surprised at such a request but the men never shy away from a pretty penny and tip.

“As I was saying, Rigel.” He held out his hand.