“You have got to be kidding me!” Nicola shouted at the small, grotesque and very grumpy looking goblin as he stared down at her from his perch behind the tall desk. His upper lip turned up as if studying the moneyless commoner beneath him with immense contempt with only served to fuel both Nicola’s despair and anger. Her usually pale face reddened and eyes darkened to practically black as she stared up at him with disbelief.

“No no no, the account can’t be closed.” The young woman shook her head, trying to comprehend what the horrible little creature had said. “I checked it the other day, I put money into it the other day!” This wasn’t happening. The only money she had left that hadn’t been taken from the ministry was in that account. The tiny amount she earned over the last month went into it each week. She had nothing else! “There are only two names on that account and there’s no way my husband can close it from where he is. You’ve made a mistake.”

It was then that Nicola realised what might have happened and her face went white. Had he been in? Had he been released?

“We haven’t made a mistake Miss Randall. Your...” the goblin wrinkled his already deformed nose “husband sent a letter with his and your signature asking for the funds to be transferred into a separate account.”

“I haven’t signed anything you stupid, vertically challenged troll! That’s my money and you’ve lost it!” It wasn’t in Nicola’s character to truthfully become emotional. Normally these emotions were faked in order to gain her sympathy or to con an unsuspecting soul but she was quite obviously in despair right now. There hadn’t been a lot of money in the vault but it had been hers. She’d earned it and that horrible, vulgar and useless excuse for a husband had stolen it from her from inside Azkaban!

The goblin refused to accept a mistake and told her to leave. Nicola stared in disbelief before turning on her foot in order to head towards the exit, her eyes blurring from genuine tears. The first genuine tears to fall since she’d first been dumped in the hell hole of a prison. As she took a step, not having looked, she bumped into someone who was queueing behind her and dropped her shopping bags, sending the various foods tumbling to the floor.

“Oh not now!” The woman gasped, staring down at the vegetables rolling away before she started crying.

His publishers had thankfully seemed pleased with the work he had submitted which had been a relief.  The happier they were, the less they tended to hound him with correspondences requesting updates.  He could work in peace when classes came to an end each day without having to wonder when the next owl would swoop in carrying a parchment with their seal.

While in London he had one more stop to make that was business related before trying to decide what to do with the remainder of a day away from the school.  His appointment to the head of Hufflepuff meant he had additional responsibilities but so far he seemed to be able to find enough time to see to personal matters.  It was refreshing not to have to think about disciplinary issues for a few hours.

Moving to queue up he quickly became aware of the fact that the woman currently speaking to the goblin behind the desk was not pleased by the response she was getting.  Something about her money being lost.  He could understand being upset if there was indeed some mix-up that was no fault of her own.  While the exchange continued he let his mind wander a bit over the previous week and all the stress of discovering Sasha missing.

He was still lost in his thoughts when someone crashed into him, sending shopping bags and food tumbling to the ground.  The woman was thankfully petite, by his guess no more then five foot four inches, and was very slight which meant he stayed upright despite having to take a step back.  Looking at her, he quickly noticed the tears starting to trail down her face and he immediately reached for the handkerchief he always carried.  Holding it out to her first before attempting to help gather the scattered food items.

“Here,” he said, looking at the handkerchief in his hand for a moment, “take this.  We’ll get your groceries sorted out, but you look like perhaps you could use a moment.”

During any ordinary day when Nicola had not just been duped out of her meagre savings by a brutish, violent and still incarcerated husband she would have scorned a man who dared bump into her. She would have had to resist all urges to curse him in public and she definitely would not have burst into tears. However, when one woman who usually remained emotionless actually experienced despair and disbelief, she was caught off guard on this one occasion. Everything had built up and the woman had actually become marginally vulnerable.

A handkerchief was held out to her and Nicola glanced at it, confused. What was she supposed to do? Blow her nose and hand it back? Wave it around in surrender? She was not going to surrender to Billy Tawse any day. He was a lowlife bully and she was now well aware of that. Emotions were not going to cloud her vision next time she clapped eyes on the bulky Scottish tyrant. No, she was going to give him what for and hex him back to Azkaban while she was at it.

“Thanks.” The woman wept, regardless of her inner hatred of Billy. She was upset right now and someone had actually done a nice gesture. She took the cloth and dabbed it to her eyes, trying to stem the tears.

“I..I need a whole lifetime.” Nicola did her best to calm down, slowing her breathing and realising just how stupid she probably looked. “I can...I can get those.” She quickly dropped to her knees, snatching up the various objects to stuff back in the bag. “I should have looked where I was going.”

Isaac watched her for a moment as she dabbed her eyes.  She was attempting to calm herself, her tears and breath slowing.  If it was all the money she had then he would more then be able to understand why she was a bit of an emotional wreck.  From the little he was paying attention it seemed the goblin behind the desk wasn’t exactly willing to listen to the woman’s side of things.  He wasn’t terribly surprised by that, but at least he hadn’t managed to already make it worse.

“Let me help you,” he said crouching and starting to help gather food items.  “I wasn’t exactly watching either or I would have able to move out of the way.  There was no real harm done there…groceries are easy enough to pick up.”

Of course the groceries weren’t really the issue, they were probably simply the final straw one often found on an already terrible day.  Someone approached behind him and he motioned for him to go ahead of him up to the counter.  His business could wait another moment or two as he wasn’t expected anywhere else for a little while yet.

“Perhaps speaking to someone other then the cranky chap behind the desk might help with whatever he seemed to be hassling you about?  Surely someone must be able to actually give you a little assistance with the matter…not that it’s any of my business.  I just couldn’t help overhearing a little,” he continued.

He gave her a slight half smile that was admittedly a little sheepish.  It was always a bit awkward when someone overheard something that the other party would likely have rather they didn’t.  There were always three sides of a story with the truth usually being the third which lay somewhere between the other two, but in this case it wasn’t really his place to ask.

This was insane. Nicola was crying over a few vegetables had been dropped to the floor. The woman was very much starting to lose it. The man she’d knocked into decided to point this out and she couldn’t help but laugh softly. “They are yes.” She frowned and shook her head, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief. The older man better had not blown his nose in this. That was just unpleasant and rude. One didn’t hand a helpless woman a snotty cloth to dab her eyes with.

Nicola looked up from the groceries, crouched down in front of the wizard. Her eyes searched his face, questioning him. He didn’t look like the type to offer a snotty tissue. He actually looked like a...’nice guy’. Something she very rarely encountered. The baddies were always more exciting. They kept her on her toes and the adrenaline rushing. Apparently they also stole her money and lied to her, leading to a stretch in Azkaban.

He’d overheard. As had the majority of the bank, no doubt. She hadn’t been quiet. The usual private person that would sneak back in the night to torture the person had made a show of herself in public all because her husband had decided to pull one over on her and caught her off guard. It was time to start watching out for this. Billy was obviously aware she was out. As long as he didn’t know about her present...situation. He would no doubt want to kill his cousin when he got out.

Nicola straightened up, back on her feet and her pale features creased into a frown. “There’s no point, sir. It’s not the bank that’s the problem.” She took a long breath and wiped away any lingering tears. Crying was for the weak or when she wanted to act that way for a helping hand. Nicola had recently learned that there were two ways to get a person to help you. Cry or offer sex. Flawless.

“But you don’t want to hear about my problems,” the woman stated with a sniff, glancing back at the attractive older man.

As he helped her gather the dropped vegetables, he tried not to notice that she seemed to study him.  There were plenty of people who would have probably gotten upset at having been run into and simply told her to 'bugger off' and gone about their business with the goblin at the desk.  A lot of times it seemed people were only really nice when they wanted something from someone else, and that wasn't the case.

When the groceries were gathered he stood again watching her features fall into a frown.  Whatever had happened it seemed the bank wasn't truly at fault.  She was still clearly upset even though she had managed to wipe away her tears.  He managed to finally get a good look at her then.  She was certainly pretty, although a bit on the slight side and very pale.  Curiosity caused him to wonder if this was normal or if there was some sort of explanation behind her appearance.

"Sometimes talking about them can help," he said with a slight shrug.  "At least I've always found that.  Helps sort of clear the mind a bit and makes it a little bit easier to try to find a solution.  I...well...obviously you're upset about whatever happened.  It's really none of my business, but I don't mind listening."

It wasn't his business.  He had ever right to tell her best of luck and walk away, but he just couldn't do that.  Call it chivalry or simply foolishness, Isaac Fraiser couldn't simply walk away from a tearful woman.  She could tell him no.  She didn't know him at all and he would more then understand that, but he could give her a few minutes if she wanted an ear to vent to.  He didn't know her situation but it seemed she could use a friend.

"I'm Isaac, by the way," he said, extending his right hand to her.

He was sweet. Not the usual type of man Nicola Randall had had the misfortune of coming across. No, this one had actually helped and not been of the illusion of every man for himself. It was a refreshing change and had Nicola not been upset and unable to think straight at this moment, the cogs in her brain would have been turning to find a way of manipulating this situation. As it was, Nicola just took it at face value, a genuine stranger being friendly.

Brown eyes glanced down at the proffered hand as she brushes a lock of dark hair from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. With the same right hand, she took his, shaking it firmly. “Nicola.” No surname required. That only threw fuel on the fire in her situation.

Quickly, Nic glanced around behind her at the goblin now behind an empty desk before she frowned at Isaac (what kind of the name was Isaac?).
“I…are you sure you don’t mind me bending your ear? The grumpy clerk’s free behind us now.” She questioned, once more grasping the shopping bags between her slim fingers.

“But um…” Now this was strange. Was Nicola actually wanting to talk about her problems with a complete stranger? Perhaps he’d been sent by William to spy on her. “There’s a cute little coffee shop around the corner. I would love someone to talk to if I’m honest.”

He gave her a smile as she shook his hand.  There were plenty of people in the world who would have taken advantage of this situation and Nicola, but he wasn’t about to do that.  She needed an ear and he could provide that.  Giving a bit of time to a stranger wasn’t something he minded, and sometimes the kindness of one stranger could make a world of difference.  He gave a slight chuckle when she mentioned the clerk being free, glancing behind her for a moment.

"I really don’t mind at all,” he said, looking away to meet her eyes again.  “What I need from here can wait until later.  It wasn’t anything terribly pressing…I just don’t get into London very often so I thought while I was here I’d might as well run a few errands.  Like I said though, it can wait.”

He watched her for a moment, as she seemed a bit unsure about her next statement.  He supposed asking a complete strange to go for a cup of coffee could cause a bit of trepidation.  Nicola seemed like the sort who didn’t have many people actually take an interest in helping her, or at least that was his guess from the way she reacted to him.  There was something about her that he couldn’t quite but his finger on though.

“I could actually use a coffee,” he said, trying to make an easy transition.  “I think I know the place you’re talking about.”  Glancing at the shopping bags he added, “Let me help you with those.”

Nicola found a very small smile tugging dubiously at the edges of her pale lips. She was glad he’d made this slightly less…uncomfortable. She needed a person to talk to. Someone that didn’t actually know her or wasn’t out for what they could get. She had her cousins, well, Moira. Arianna was a stuck up lost cause that didn’t deserve the air she breathed. Moira however, she’d just tell Nicola to cut Billy from her life when he came out and stay away. That wasn’t so easy. And Tawse? He’d offered her a job and a nice bit of…fun. But the large Scottish man was under the illusion Nicola was a young, single criminal in need of help. He hadn’t given away whether he was aware of the fact she was his cousin’s wife or not.

This man? He didn’t know her. He didn’t know the woman had been accused of murder and that she’d just been released from Azkaban. He didn’t know that she wasn’t a distraught, wronged and innocent wife or an evil man. He could just listen to her. That was all the normally heartless woman needed right now.

“Thank you.” Randall responded to the offer of help and handed the friendly stranger a carrier bag. She started to walk past him and out of the bank, not glancing back to see if he was following. Perhaps he was doing a runner with a bag of potatoes. Somehow she doubted that, however.

It was a couple of minutes of silent walking before the arrived outside the small coffee house and Nicola pushed her way inside, hearing the bell above the door chime to announce their arrival. She made a beeline towards a table and sat down, frowning across at Isaac.

“Have you ever really regretted a mistake you made years and years ago?”

Taking the bags he followed her out of the bank towards the coffee shop.  Keeping up wasn’t terribly difficult given her smaller stature and strides.   It was only a few minutes later he found himself sitting across from her at one of the tables.  He had set her bags aside, and removed his coat to place it on the back of the chair.  When he looked over at her the question she asked surprised him.  He had tried not to have any regrets in life…of course he hadn’t exactly been successful.

Usually he would be the first to say that he had no regrets, that he had lived his life as he had wanted.  Yet in doing so, he had sacrificed more then he intended.  That was a huge regret in his life.  Despite his best attempts to remind himself that he probably couldn’t have changed things if he had taken the safe route of settling down and working for the Ministry, there were times he couldn’t help wondering.

“Yes,” he said, giving a slight nod to go with it.  “I think everyone has their regrets…as much as we try to avoid them they’re a part of life.  I’m the sort who’s of the mindset that learning from those regrets is the important thing.   You can’t really change what’s happened in the past…but you can make sure not to repeat your mistakes in the future.”

No one was ever truly without regrets, and what hers was he wasn’t sure.  He’d tried to learn from his own mistakes, but it was a constant process.  After a brief pause he asked, “Is this mistake part of what had you upset?”

The bags that had been laden in Nicola’s hands now sat in the empty chair beside her and she had comfortably lowered herself into another large, cozy leather chair. This place was nice. Informal with good tea – a beverage she had very much missed in the last 5 years. There was no need to look at the specials board, Nicola didn’t drink coffee; she liked tea. Strong, British tea with the occasional cheeky tipple of whiskey. Now however was no the time for drinking alcohol. Her emotions were already shaky enough. After all, the woman was actually expressing them. She actually had emotions.

“It’s not a mistake I think I can repeat. Marriage is for life.” Nicola replied, barely audibly as she looked across at the older man. He really did have a friendly face, one she felt compelled to tell him things. Not all things. The man would do a runner if he found out she had tortured and killed an auror, been to prison for it and gotten out five years later, blaming her husband for the whole charade.

He asked about the mistake being the reason for the small breakdown and Nicola nodded, looking down at the table between them. “I fell in love with and married a man 7 years ago. We ran a small shop in London together selling magical antiques. Business was great. He handled procuring our stock and pricing it and I sold it front of house.”

The ex-Azzie stopped as an old woman with an apron tied around her plump waist approached the couple, wearing a warm smile, rosy cheeks brightening up what was an otherwise pale face.

“Um…just a tea for me please.” She mumbled in response to the woman’s query about her drinking preference before glancing over to ‘Isaac’.

Part of him was well aware that her story wasn’t perhaps all that uncommon.  How many people did marry the wrong person?  Believing themselves to be in love, people took the leap, not expecting to wake up one day and find it had all been some sort of mistake.  Of course he certainly didn’t know the entire story, but he was quite certain her husband had something to do with her funds being missing from her account.

He started to open his mouth to reply when a woman approached their table asking for their orders.  He returned the smile when she looked over at him after Nicola had requested tea.  “Coffee, please,” he said.  He had picked up the coffee habit during his first research trip and it had stuck with him.  Tea was now something he tended to only drink on visits home.

When the woman finally wandered off again to get their order, he looked back at Nicola finally saying, “It’s good to take your marriage vows seriously, but it’s not impossible to be free of him legally should that be what you want.”

Where marriage wasn’t a decision he believed should be taken lightly, neither was the possibility of divorce.  If she wasn’t considering that then perhaps there was a reason for her to stay.  It just seemed a bit obvious that if she considered it a mistake and regret that perhaps seeking a legal end to the marriage would be the answer.  There was something he was missing, but she had only really just started telling her story.

“So, you married this man and things were good for a time,” he continued.  “And clearly something happened along the way to change all that.”

Nicola smiled tightly as if finding her situation oddly amusing. Something happened? She guessed one could say that. It was more that someone happened. A nosy, stupid auror wanting to show his worth to his buddies at the ministry.

“A lot of things happened. I didn’t realise half the things I was selling were illegally procured and being sold against the law. I trusted my husband and simply thought we were doing remarkably shifting the goods at such elevated prices.” Nic frowned and looked down at the table, the fingers of her hands entwined and resting on the wooden surface.

“It came to light that he was selling other, dangerous black-market goods out of the backroom.” She chuckled harshly to herself, shaking her head. “I was so doe eyed that I didn’t notice what was going on under my nose. Anyway, the law caught up with him. He was told by some fraudulent auror that he’d get a reduced prison term if he implicated me in the whole charade.” Nicola sniffed and lifted the previously received handkerchief up to her eyes. For the woman to continue talking about this and having the man believe she was innocent at least, she needed to cry again. Then she would have someone to talk to about her vicious, uncaring husband.

Nicola frowned and looked up to the man sat opposite, her tear filled dark eyes focused on his. “I was sent to prison because my husband wanted a reduced sentence.” Half true.

Isaac sat back a bit in the chair listening as she spoke of the shop and what been going on right under her nose.  Love tended to do strange things to people, and certainly made them willing to not look at things as closely as perhaps they should.  His guess was that when she went to prison she couldn’t have been much older then twenty and by his math would have still been a teenager when she wed her husband.  Based on her story her trust had been taken advantage of and then completely let down.

It sounded as if her husband was the sort of man he would never be able to understand.  How anyone could claim to love someone and then completely destroy their lives was beyond him.  Perhaps she should have looked more closely into what was going on in her own store, and certainly there was the issue of self-accountability, but rarely could anyone say they truly questioned the motives of someone they loved.

“I’m sorry he betrayed your trust,” he said.  “You shouldn’t have had to pay for his crimes if you did nothing more then put complete faith in someone who you were supposed to be able to depend upon.  I can’t even begin to imagine what that must have been like.”

He leaned forward again, folding his own hands on the table, studying her for a moment before continuing, “I’m guessing that the situation in the bank is his doing as well.  It sort of leads me to wonder why you might choose to remain his wife and not seek a divorce.  If he did all this…lied to you and had you sent a way to try to save his own neck…why remain his wife?”

The question was asked out of a need to try to fully understand her side of the story.  There was something missing, something that made that answer far from a simple one.

Despite herself, Nicola smiled at the cute older man’s ignorance. Her dark eyes fell onto the table momentarily before they once more focused on Isaac’s. “You’ve not met my husband, Sir.” She muttered thoughtfully. Nicola wasn’t lying about being scared of doing such an outrageous thing as attempting a divorce. Billy was angry. This stunt he’d pulled had been used to demonstrate that fact to his wife. It had been to remind her he was soon to be released and to solidify the fact that he had control and he was about to make her life very miserable. She should have found a different suspect to point the finger at. A snake that didn’t slither away from the law quite as slickly.

“He’s a large, strong and scary Scotsman. You don’t just go telling him you want a divorce and expect it to go swimmingly. He has a temper you’d never want to encounter and he’s very good with his wand.” As soon as he was given it back. And he would be given it back. Nicola had never expected to be on the wrong side of Billy Tawse. She’d always done her utmost to remain on his good side, to have him like her, love her. Now though? She’d made a big mistake. And probably an even bigger mistake to work for his cousin, Cinaed. Especially in the after hours socialising the pair now took part in. If Billy found out…

The old woman arrived with a tray and Nicola glanced up into the wrinkled face. The old hag looked as if she’d had her face sat on and smeared about by a hippogriff’s arse. Not a good look. Nic never planned on getting that old and repulsive. Nevertheless, she smiled weakly at the waitress and thanked her for the tea, leaning forwards to pick up the teapot and dispense herself a cup.

The woman left and Nicola found herself returning to the topic. Getting rid of Billy. Ha, that wasn’t likely. She remembered a comment he’d whispered into her ear as a young girl ‘Ye can nay escape from this handsome face, Nikki. Ye’d never want to.’ He’d said it in the loving way that she’d fallen for every time. Now it seemed more sinister.

“It’s easy for people on the outside looking in to recommend what the correct course of action would be for a woman like myself, Sir. But you yourself haven’t been in this position.” Nicola sighed and lifted the teacup up to her lips to sip the steaming liquid.