“One hundred and fifty…!” Professor Duerr chuckled gleefully, updating the scores on the parchment ledger beside her. Her three opponents mildly protested her luck if not her skill, their remaining dominoes sliding across the table to shuffle and stack, preparing for a new round.

“Well, the night is young,” the Belgian smiled politely, “maybe my luck is early this evening- oh!” Speaking of. “Joseph!” The rather charming Joseph Leslie had approached their little table of four with the dominoes. Camille’s smile brightened.

It was Wednesday evening in the Three Broomsticks, and she was one of the regulars who came along to play dominoes. There were other tables around them with groups of four, hands of tiny bone dominoes beside their drinks and spiralling lines of white and black dotted pieces decorating the tables.

Mr Leslie (or Joseph as he had introduced himself to Camille and a few of the others) had joined them for the first time about three weeks ago. Camille had noticed him observing and invited him over in her friendly, welcoming manner. Unfamiliar with the game, she had taken him under her wing to teach him.

In truth, Joseph had picked up the concept and rules quick enough, but Camille enjoyed the difference pace of a two player game to that of the four, and his company was new and intriguing. There was something different about the fellow. Camille had wondered if it had not only been the dominoes he’d been watching that first evening, for there were not many ladies amongst their number, and several of those were married with husbands also playing.

“Maybe a little later,” she informed the other three at her table, “I promised Joseph I’d teach him another variation this week so he can take on Albert at his variation.” One couldn’t play with five, besides. She relinquished the ledger to the wizard beside her with a plaited beard and got to her feet, beaming at the arrival.

“Joseph, lovely to see you darling,” she greeted him with three kisses on the cheeks without hesitation, as if he were an old friend already. “How’s your week been? Have you been to the bar?” She had been too busy smiling at him to notice if he had a drink in his hand.

It was difficult to be in Hogsmeade without remembering his own childhood. The duplicity of having to present a normal face whilst his own home life was a shambles, violent and unstable.

Layton never anticipated having to do much legwork near the school - oh, yes, maybe the occasional visit or check-in on Ira's ferocious niece over the years, before, but never something so routine as to be expected by a group of individuals such as those players whose sight greeted him when he entered The Three Broomsticks today. They were truly.... normal. His feelings towards humanity almost softened around them.

            “Joseph, lovely to see you darling....” Camille Duerr was all courtesy and affection when he approached her; his affable smile broadened somewhat.

If he looked hard enough, he could see traces of Storm in her. Layton therefore tried not to look too hard, and this gave him the impression of a man who harboured still some bashfulness of youth. He had dressed as he always did for these visits: fashionably sensible, practical, nothing too striking. A hint of knowing what looked good and what didn't. Camille didn't seem the kind to look for loud beauty or cockiness. No. Her charm was soft and quiet - he had to meet her with the same level of subtlety.

"Boring week I'm afraid," Layton spoke with a mock sigh, lifting his pint of ale to indicate that he had his drink and that it was much-needed. "Picking out curtain samples, nobody's idea of a good time."

His cover life, as an interior decorator, was rich with reasons to complain or to not complain. The wizard moved to take a seat, putting down his drink and then taking out a little brown paper package from under his arm. "Got you something, by the way," he grinned at her, gaze quickly dropping with just a little colour hiding behind his beard. "If you don't mind. Saw it in a bookshop and thought of you."

They had developed a quaint kind of friendship through these games over the weeks but Layton was aiming for better intimacy; failing that, however, he wanted at the very least to distinguish Camille from their other domino-playing peers.

Now, a day after Valentine's, was a carefully-chosen moment to try and advance himself in her eyes. The package contained a Gentleman's Guide of Games[1] A beautiful vintage affair, relevant to their mutual interests and straddling the fence between friendship and something more.

1.	Such as this!

“You led me to believe it was a curtain sample for one minute,” Camille confessed, fingertips brushing her lips. She shook her curls. Her eyes darted between the brown paper package and Joseph’s kind face, quite surprised at the gesture.

“That’s awfully kind of you darling, thank you. My birthday isn’t until June you know.” Her smile was genuine, touched at the gesture of her newest … friend? Was that the word?

She dropped to take a seat beside him without further hesitation. It would be impolite to delay unwrapping a spontaneous gift for the sake of visiting the bar for a drink.

“Thank you,” she murmured again, even though she was yet to open it. Her fingertips received the parcel, confirming that it definitely felt like a book, if the suggestion of having seen it in a bookshop hadn’t been enough to go on.

The paper slid away to show a charming red cover embossed with a hand of cards in gold. It was not a new volume, but had quaint charm of a bygone era. A compendium of games and variations, in beautifully printed detail. As she opened the pages it held a very particular scent which reminded Camille more recently of time in the Hogwarts library. A pleasant smell which always accompanied the consumption and acquisition of knowledge.

“Oh how charming,” she expressed genuinely, holding the book in her left, resting it gently on her palm as she turned the pages with care. “Bridge and dice and piquet…” She poured over the pages, from chapter to chapter. “Simply delightful,” she gushed, looking up to Joseph with a beaming smile. “How very thoughtful of you, moppie. Thank you. I will treasure it!”

She clutched the book towards her a moment and grinned, before leaning in to kiss him on the cheek once more in thanks. Her gaze lingered just a moment to catch his reaction and then looked to the book once more.

“Maybe we can learn another game from here! I will get another drink. You see if there’s one you want to try.”

She caught his forearm with a gentle squeeze and offered the book back to him. “Something more exciting than curtain samples, he?” She tilted her head in good humour.

            "How very thoughtful of you, moppie."

Layton's face fought not to react to the word, which he did not recognise and felt resembled moppet just a little too much. Camille carried on just like normal however - she had that rare gift of being able to express her real feelings without coming across as facetious or false; he imagined it must allow her to get away with all manner of kindnesses. The kiss was a kindness, for one. Or maybe more.

He swallowed, eyes flickering to hers - just a touch closer than friends might meet eyes - before dropping demurely,

The witch left to fetch a drink. Layton breathed out slowly, flipping open the games book but not really observing the print. It was hard not to like Duerr. Exceedingly. That made his work easy but it also meant that he caught himself somewhere between the duplicity of their friendship and authenticity of desire.

Because he did, in spite himself, want to be in her company. How in Merlin's name she didn't have half the blokes in this dominos club wanting the same was beyond Layton's conception - very probably most men did not know a good thing when they saw it.

Camille returned as he was making his way from card games into dice, and he looked up with a flash of a smile. "Kismet?" Layton asked and then, to clarify, lifted the open book to indicate he meant a game of dice. "If you don't mind a change of medium. It doesn't take a lot to be more interesting than picking out curtains."

They could quite easily transfigure the dominos into a set of dice. And the game was more chance than strategy, which would give him some intellectual freedom to flirt with Camille instead of trying to get his head round dominos.

There was a certain lightness in step as Camille made her way to the bar. As she waited for a gin and tonic, she stole the slightest of glances over her shoulder at Mr Leslie. She smiled secretly to herself and patted her hair self consciously, charmed with the attention of the wizard.

She carried her glass back, with a little sashay, akin to a younger woman. Joseph was paging through the gift, and as he noticed her return he looked up attentively and smiled.
“Kismet?” He suggested, and lifted the page as she slid back into place beside him. She reached out to take it from him and read the instructions. “… it doesn’t take a lot to be more interesting than picking out curtains.”

Camille looked up from the page and shook her head at his suggestion - not the game, but rather his profession.
“You’re forever putting yourself down, Joseph. I will not stand for it!” She expressed it playfully but was serious about the sentiment. “We can’t all be front page news, and I am sure you better more lives than many on them.” She pointed at him.

The Arithmancy teacher made a show of picking up the book, scrutinising the instructions. “Right, five white dice,” she instructed Joseph, pushing five dominos across the table to him to transfigure. “Then we colour two and five red, three and four green…” she reached for a discarded glass which hadn’t been returned from another table and frowned as she remembered an appropriate transfiguration spell to turn it to a dice cup. They already had notepad and pencil for scoring.

“We won’t play it competitively, not until we have the … hang … of things?” Camille suggested, tentatively using the turn of phrase, unsure if it was the appropriate way of saying it. She wasn’t fantastically competitive as a personality, and preferred to study and understand before she applied too much strategy. The good part of the dominos group was that there were others who felt that way. They played for pleasure not competition. She avoided the ones who did unless she felt she felt daring.

“Let’s just play as one person perhaps.” Camille placed the dice down in the cup before her partner and picked up the pencil and notepad before the open book. “We’ll learn together.” She beamed.

After a few rolls, she had begun to lean over and invade Joseph’s space. It was very easy to feel natural and familiar with him, despite them only knowing each other a little time. She rather felt she might have cut him off earlier and had felt a little bad for it. “I am sure there are some who would say rolling dice was a much more boring thing to do than decorate a home. But you’re not just your job are you, darling,” Camille looked up and gave a kind smile. “What else have you been up to, hmm?”

He had chosen a good game - it took some thought, yes, to consult the book every so often when they were scoring each roll, but as he wasn't keen on becoming proficient the wizard was given some mental reprieve. He used this to better observe Camille at close quarters. A pretty woman with lucky cheekbones and the mannerisms of good breeding. Her perfume was sweet - the sweetness of an orchard, rather than a patisserie.

             “I am sure there are some who would say...not just your job are you, darling," she said, looking up from one of his less favourable throws.

Layton had leaned in as much as she did, mirroring the body language and enjoying himself in the process of it; but their faces were much closer than polite when she looked up and he laughed self-consciously. "What else have you been up to, hmm?”

"Mm nobody should be just their job," he agreed as he jotted down their score. "I don't mean to sound, um, self-deprecating but I don't do much. Potter about town, bookshops and art galleries. Quite like finding new cafes. Oddly," Layton put down the pencil and smiled crookedly at the witch, "you find the best ones on a rainy day, exactly when you need them."

Just the smallest hint of fate - of things turning up when the time is right. "I do a spot of taxidermy as well," he added, a throwaway answer. "Hobby I picked up from a client who liked that sort of thing in their home." Although the creatures were not your regular sort.

"What about you, Camille?" Layton handed her the dice cup, glancing back at the book of rules. "Not all arithmancy and spotty teens, is it?"

“… bookshops and art galleries. Quite like finding new cafes…”

That sounded glorious. For a moment Camille quite envied Joseph’s life outside of Hogwarts. Though it did sound awfully lonely.

“… a spoke of taxidermy as well, hobby I picked up from a client who liked that sort of thing in their home.” Oh, well there was something a little more unusual. Not that it wasn’t unusual for one to round a corner in the castle and find a taxidermied beast nestled between two coats of armour. They were… educational, she understood.

‘Not all arithmancy and spotty teens, is it?”

“Oh no,” she squirmed ever so slightly, and once again patted her hair. “I …” she paused, mouth open, and reconsidered the next words of enjoy reading and saw herself as plain and altogether uninteresting. “I look forward to the holidays. Save my galleons to go away somewhere new.” Only she hated using the floo, because it made her queasy. Not something to ‘bring up’ now though.

“I like finding somewhere new.” She inclined a little, as if telling Joseph a secret. “And a little sunshine is always appreciated. Especially after here.” She gesticulated with her fingers to the ceiling. “Would it be all that bad to cast a weather charm once in a moon?” Belgium hadn’t been much warmer, nor Germany, but Scotland was bitter. If she saved hard, she might make a trip to somewhere further than she’d ever been before. Asia, or South America. That was definitely hot, wasn’t it?

“Your wandering sounds like perfection, but ever so lonely darling.” Her hand found his arm again, “don’t you ever take company?”

In his eyes, any new information offered by an individual was something that could later be used against them or towards an ultimate end. That Camille enjoyed holidays was useful, yes. Especially as Easter Break was only a couple of months away. Layton huffed a laugh as she remarked on the bad weather, and made a mental note of the preference for warmer climates.

            “Your wandering...don’t you ever take company?”

The wizard touched the hand on his arm, warmly rather than in caution, and they were close enough that when he looked at her this time it seemed quite natural for him to glance at her mouth. Only for a second, the glance, intentional but guilty - like a self-conscious indulgence.

"What with moving around for my work so much, it's not often I can find the right company," he confessed ruefully. "And I'm not the kind of bloke that makes friends easy..." Layton looked over his shoulder at some of the others in their dominos group and then back at the witch. "But then again, not everyone's so friendly as you."

He squeezed her hand with a smile and let go. "There's a little town round these parts I've been meaning to visit, bit of a tourist spot I hear. Callander?" his eyes did not meet hers, as if shy to extend the invitation. "Seems like a nice place to have a wander about, if you've ever a spare weekend."

“… I’m not the kind of bloke that makes friends easily…”
“No?” She looked genuinely alarmed at this suggestion.
“.. But then again, not everyone’s so friendly as you.”
“Ohh,” she put aside her instinctive endearment and reached for English, “so kind…”

The sweet moment passed, but the feeling lingered as he brought up a visit.
“… if you’ve ever a spare weekend.”
“Certainly!” She agreed with a noticeable lack of hesitation. “I mean,” her fingers splayed above the dice, catching her eager reply, “one can leave the castle once in a while. Let me see!”

From a jacket pocket came a tiny, slim, pale blue, elegant diary. The pages were edged with gold, and a ribbon marked the pages, its colour matching the cover. The entries were entered with precision, and Joseph was allowed a glimpse. Half a dozen evening entries with student names, dominoes of course, and at the weekend there was a tailor’s appointment for a wedding outfit.

Camille shuffled excitedly, grinning with a spark in her eye. “Two months yesterday until they marry,” she explained. She turned pages, still smiling, and planted a finger on a weekend ahead, “there, how does that suit you? Let’s escape!” Even if it was to… Scotland… still.

If his mind drew similarities between mother and son, it was unwillingly so. Layton couldn't narrow down precisely what reminded him of Storm, as Camille brought out her little book to set aside a day for their little date. He realised suddenly, with a cold feeling, that both Ira and Camille attended Beauxbatons - that there was a certain neatness, a certain appreciation for classic beauty imprinted on many witches from that school.

The thought so preoccupied him, he almost forgot to surreptitiously read the entries of her diary. Almost.

            “Two months yesterday until they marry,” she remarked excitedly.

Mention of the wedding sobered Layton of thoughts to do with Ira. Married. Those two wizards, who masqueraded as happy and jovial men of society, danced dangerously between secrets. They were pulling the wool over everyone's eyes just as well as he was.

"Suits me perfectly," he smiled broadly and tapped the side of his head. "I'll just jot that down in here for now."

A wink. "Your only son, eh? Going to be a very big wedding then." Layton commented conversationally, leaning back in his chair as he sipped on ale. "I used to do weddings, decor and all that stuff, but wasn't any good at it. Felt too much like building a fairy tale. And not even the fun, macabre kind."

Of course a wizard wouldn’t have a diary on an evening out with friends. She matched his smile, following the path of his fingers with her eyes, turning her head, enamoured at the wink.

“Your only son, eh?”
“Mhm,” she nodded, letting him continue, now much more engaged in hearing him speak than the game.

“Well a wedding shouldn’t be macabre,” Camille shook her head gently, “It should be a joyous day. And yes, he’s marrying into a big Scottish family. Balfour’s family is… large…” she lacked a better English adjective on the tip of her tongue, and gestured with her hands to emphasise.

“You should come!” She suggested, and then appeared to agree with her own suggestion second hand. “My guest,” she elaborated for clarity. “Once the formal bit is complete it will just be a big party. I would enjoy your company.”

She was trying to get a read on Joseph’s expression, and threw her hands up, worried she had put him on the spot and made him uncomfortable now. “Think on it. You don’t need to answer now.” She reached for her drink, suddenly thirsty.

            “You should come!”

He was so caught off guard by the direct invitation, his surprise was genuine. "Oh!" Layton heard it in his voice and hated himself for a brief moment. Then he caught his own surprise and tried to feel as lucky as he knew he was. The wizard had been nurturing this friendship, expecting an invitation somewhere further down the line.

On their trip to Callander or even after, give or take intimacies. Yet she was asking now. There were things he didn't yet understand about Camille - this worried him, he hated not being able to parse intentions.

"No no, I'm in Scotland for a while. Two months from now suits just fine," he gestured good humouredly and reached for her hand on the table. "It's very kind of you to invite me."

Layton squeezed her hand warmly before pulling back with a self-deprecating smile. "Been some years since I attended a big wedding, mind you. Might need to practice my dancing."

He picked up his drink, dark eyes smiling at Camille as he sipped. No, he couldn't quite figure her out. What harm could she do, though?