Wrapped in warm winter robes and a cashmere scarf, her curly hair poofing out in every direction, Abby sipped at the hot chocolate in her hands, glad she'd stopped to buy some. She stood under the awning of an outdoor booth which sold ornaments and silly laughing models of house elves. A few shopping bags dangled from her arm, full of new toys and cute little doggie sweaters for Roxy. It was telling that she had just two people in her life she wanted to buy for, and only one of them was human. Unfortunately, the human was picky, while the crup would have been happy with an old cardboard box and the latest copy of the Daily Prophet to slobber over. Yet it was the crup she had found gifts for!

Her sister was very particular about shoes, wizarding robes, and other accessories, so Abby felt that anything she picked out would pale in comparison to her taste. She had a whole library of books at home, and everything she needed for Runes.

And she didn't need another surprise pet. Abby thought Aileen could use those Cheering Up cookies she'd passed by a little while ago, but didn't purchase any.

Letting out a sigh, Abby started walking again, determined to find something before she went home. Her eyes were on the store banners, decorations, and advertisements in the windows, so she wasn't watching where she was going, and nearly bumped into a man brushing past her.

"Excuse-" she started to say, then stopped. Cocked her head.

He wasn't especially tall, but he had a purposeful stride, as if he couldn't wait to get away from the crowds of wizarding folk. The glimpse she'd caught of his face was moody, yet distant. Familiar. And his eyes were a piercing blue - like Aileen's, actually.

"Oh. Wait!" Abby exclaimed, touching his arm. Was this... her brother? It was sad, really, that it had been such a long time since she'd seen him that she couldn't be sure.

"Simon?" She peered up at him curiously.

At the moment all she felt was surprise mixed in with unease. Her whole family very rarely talked about Simon, and when they did, it was with a sneer. In a funny way, Abby could relate to him being an outcast. But at the same time, she didn't know the full story, and that made her nervous. The werewolf bit she knew, of course, but the rest? A mystery.

Simon was not dressed to the standards that most Reid's would find acceptable. In fact, Simon was known for looking like a hobo or a shiftless punk who sat on the tracks waiting to hop on for another down. He did ride the rails for a time, to forget the world he would just climb on a muggle train and ride from place to place finding peace with the sound of the clickity clack. Muggle engineering, steel on steel had never seemed like something he would find exciting. Taught that muggles had nothing to contribute to the likes of wizards and witches. It was on those humble rails his strong prejudices slowly started to change.

His hatred that Simon was carrying for those he thought were bringing down his world switched to his family. Soon he found himself lost in a bitter battle against his own blood, pure blood. Nothing made less sense to him than their disdain for their own offspring.

One bad turn deserved another. Simon since had been pilfering things from them whenever possible. It would make sense that he might have little to no contact with them, when he did have the misfortune of running into one of them he came off generally was as spiney as possible. The older brother was a snake, the older sister a banshee and  his squib baby sister was hardly on his mind at all, in fact when asked by Simon he had no family. The only way people would know of any difference was when they learned of his last name.

So forgetting his troubles, Simon moved onto his life with renewed passion. Even that day he was in Hogsmeade to meet with someone of the same affliction. He of course was not paying attention to the little ankle biters roaming the streets, he didn't need them anymore than they needed him.

This of course all changed when one of the ickle lollipop munchers called out his name. The voice was unfamiliar, Simon cocked a brow as he slowed his walk to a stroll and turned around curiously. Who in Hogsmeade would know of him? Looking at the girl he wondered if it was one of Ollie's little friends, who he had actually grown fond of. The whole lot had a strong head on their shoulders, a refreshing change to the otherwise dull-witted twits he saw milling about. Looking at her with his head tilted to the side he wondered aloud, “May I help you?” His voice was not annoyed... yet.

Abby stared at Simon's clothing, which was humble and hobo-chic at best. Probably more hobo than chic. A dozen criticisms that Aileen would say sprang to her mind, but like it or not, she was related to him. Perhaps he simply couldn't afford better. That thought made her sad, then very uncomfortable, so she looked back at his face, trying to ignore the state of his winter wear.

But she found no comfort, no familiarity in his eyes. He stared blankly at her as if she were a stranger, and perhaps, she was. Hurt flickered across her features. Did he really not remember her, or was he just being cold and distant in hopes that she would go away?

Well, Abby would not be ignored! Wand or no wand, the small teenager (runty, like him!) blocked his path and gave him her brightest smile.

"Oh come on, silly," she swatted his arm playfully. "Helloooooo. It's Abby. Duh." She raised her eyebrows at him, waiting for this to sink in.

"I know it's been forever, but sheesh!"

Abby acted like their situation, that of a disowned, recluse of a brother meeting the embarrassing squib of a sister was only mildly surprising and not at all awkward or even dangerous. She didn't know him, not really. But it was easier to pretend she did, now that she'd stopped him in the middle of the street. 

Hobo-Chic was definitely a nice way to put his lack of a wardrobe. Since he was given a real job, Simon had pulled away from snatching clothing drying on a wire, and moved back to purchasing them. Granted while some were purchasing robes at high end shops, he was thrifty spending a galleon here and there only when he must. Perhaps it was the fear of never making another honest sickle if he screwed up and was once more tossed to the wolves, if one could excuse the shoddy pun.

Simon didn't care if it had been a child who was working towards the unity and the cause, he would have stopped and forced himself into some sort of a pleasant greeting. He had been practicing this niceness each day at home, he would pretend to greet someone and treat them better than the common beetle dung. This was a hard and tedious process for Simon.

Looking at her with the same disdain he felt for his sister Aileen, Simon found himself wanting to squash her much like the bug he saw Aileen as. However instead of giving her the cold shoulder or icy treatment earned by the other Reids, Simon just found himself astonished that she wanted anything to do with him at all. This little Squib, the other black sheep, the charcoal lamb if you will, was similar to him. Out cast because she was different, she was inferior to his perfect father's and mother's expectations. "It truly has been a while..." Simon continued to almost gawk at her. He hardly knew the child, he never had a reason to even think of her.

Sniffing the air suspiciously, Simon could not smell the scent of anyone else who might have attempted to corner him, only that of a little girl he hardly knew in a place he rarely went. What a comical pair the two must of looked like, just staring awkwardly at one another. "So... I find myself not knowing how you even remember me..." Simon could hardly distinguish her from a passing person on the street. The fractured Reid family tree was so visible right there as two siblings stood amongst the crowd seeing without knowing. 

As they gawked at each other, Abby searched for familial similarities, and some flicker of recognition in his eyes. He seemed shocked and suspicious. He even sniffed the air as if he could - Oh Merlin, could werewolves smell a lie? Someone's fear? Or curiosity? Abby's smile faltered.

"Well, it wasn't that long ago," she insisted, shifting uneasily. Actually, it was that long ago. "I think I last saw you when I was seven... or eight?" A few years before she'd waited for her Hogwarts letter that had never arrived. Even when she was very young, she remembered Simon only as the strange, sulky teenager who hid in his room all day and barely talked to her, looked at her, or acknowledged her existence. It was no surprise that she had recognized him first, now that she thought about it.

There were pictures of Simon, too. But in most of the family pictures his figure had simply walked away, past the photo frame and into some unknown gray area of photo-land, leaving a gap where the younger Reid son should be.

"And then you moved out, and did Ministry stuff. And now you're back doing Ministry stuff, right?" Abby conveniently left out the horrible incident in-between, that had changed Simon's life and caused their parents and siblings to give him the boot. She sipped at her hot cocoa and moved a bit to his side, so she wasn't blocking his path anymore.

But maybe, maybe, it wasn't just the incident. Aileen couldn't stand him. There had to be a reason for that, Abby warned herself.

No one knew your life better than you. So when people looked at Simon's life and didn't understand why he despised it so, he attributed it to the fact that no one but himself knew how the barbs and viper tongues licked at his heels as he grew up. The way they would use his slightest imperfections to beat him down and force him to agree that he was a worthless wreck. Simon would bend to their feelings, their whims, and when he couldn't bend anymore to allow them to walk on his back he finally snapped back.

Once he left Hogwarts, Simon resolved never to return to their home again. So far he was sticking by his guns, never had he lived there again. Sure he went there time to time for selfish purposes, but who was counting that?

Certainly not he.

Oh if only the youngest spawn of the Reids could know what truly happened when Simon was outcast from the home he never belonged. How growing up in the home where his name caused a sneer on his mother's face and when he walked into a room he could see the disappointment clearly present within his father's expression. Nothing quite like being used as a verbal punching bag by Aileen however. Being closest in age with him during school, Simon was the subject of ridicule and pranks. When the bitter hag finally left, Simon felt like Hogwarts was finally safe.

Needless to say, if he blocked out the looks and figures of his past, Simon could hardly be blamed. Yet still, Abby only faintly looked familiar. The family traits were sadly as strong in her as they were in Aileen. Simon could only hope she wasn't a vicious snipe as the elder wretch. "I can hardly remember the last time I saw you," he agreed with her on that. It was so long ago, he couldn't remember if it was even worth bringing back to mind. "Yes, ministry stuff then ministry stuff again..." pausing he noticed she clearly skipped over the painful history that the Reid's denied ever happening. "I am surprised that they let you know of my whereabouts," he sneered a little as he spoke. The word 'they' was dripping with venom as if he almost threw up his morning tea in saying it. Allowing a deep sigh, Simon just looked at her with unknowing eyes, "It must seem rather pathetic we are meeting here like total strangers... some blood line," an attempt at a joke. Simon bristled at himself for being so cold to someone who wasn't the focus of his internal anger. "So... What brings you to Hogsmeade?" Simon knew very well she was a squib, he figured she wasn't here with classmates. Nothing like awkward idle chat to warm the chilled bones.

Simon certainly seemed dour and distrustful. Abby worried for a moment that he didn't really see her as an individual at all, but just the lame leg of the family he hated. She held the cup of hot cocoa closer to her face, as if to ward off Simon's sneer, but when he sighed heavily and made an effort towards pleasantries, she lowered her cocoa and smiled. If her smile was a little false, a little overly bright, that couldn't be helped.

"Shopping," she answered, raising the bags hanging off her arm. "I got a crup last month. Cutest thing ever! So of course she needs those holiday sweaters from the Menagerie. And treats, and toys. She's going to be spoiled with a capital 'S'," Abby nodded. She was the authority on the matter.

"I'm also looking for something for Aileen, but I have no idea what to get her," Abby paused, glanced at him hesitantly, realizing that she probably shouldn't have mentioned their sister. "She's hard to shop for," she added unnecessarily.

"I'm living with her now." Another hesitant glance. "So! What brings you here? The promise of hot cocoa? Caroling?" She teased. He really didn't seem the type to burst into song. "Shopping?" Even less the type who enjoyed buying things just to buy things.

"You just knew I would be here and you wanted to see me, didn't you," she nudged him lightly with her elbow and giggled. It was such a bizarre, outlandish conclusion to make, that she hoped he'd at least smile and humor her. The more nervous she was, the goofier she acted, apparently.

Who could blame Simon for being cautious of someone popping up in front of him like a daisy. It wasn't something that happened all the time, most avoided the twenty-something were due to his recent notoriety. If it wasn't for Ollie, Simon feared he would have been a poster child for such a movement. Even if he hated talking in public, to further the cause he would suck up his social anxiety and at least give the podium a try.

The little girl before him went on and on about the pet she bought, he could two sickles but it wasn't polite to ask if he can use his wand to obliterate the last five minutes of conversation. So instead Simon just stood there and nodded as she blathered on, 'she is so chatty' he thought to himself ruefully wondering why he made conversation in the first place.

A cold wind caused Simon to bristle as the name left her lips, "Oh do you now?" His contempt for their older sibling ran deeper than the deepest ocean and would not be changing anytime soon. The sneer was apparent before the next words were spoken, "She took you in did she?" What he wanted to ask would only make him sound like the most unmitigated ass, so instead he kept himself quite. A first for Simon.

The day that Simon Reid bursts into song would be a cold day in hell indeed. Unless of course that was the day something quite horrid would befall his enemies, then he might pull off a jig. Simon was quite good at jigging when he needed to. He fancied himself quite fancy with his footwork when given the chance to be. That however was rare sight for certain and wouldn't be increasing anytime soon. "Most assuredly not caroling, I am meeting a colleague for a meeting about Werewolf rights and the current progress we are making with the Ministry." That was all he was willing to reveal at the time, he hardly knew this person and depending on how bad Aileen may have destroyed her, she wouldn't be anymore interested in Werewolf rights than he was about her pet. "That and cocoa was never much my taste... I prefer tea." Simon tried to move the conversation to something lighter, and failed.

Abby pretended that she didn't see the sneer on Simon's face when Aileen was mentioned, but her shoulders tensed up a bit, and she chattered faster, hoping to distract both him and herself.

And she was right: he was neither a fan of caroling or cocoa. But tea! She'd have to remember that. "I thought so," Abby nodded sagely. "More cocoa for me then," she smiled, took another sip.

What he said so casually in-between the small talk caught her interest. Werewolf rights. Progress in the Ministry.

"I hope I'm not keeping you. I could walk with you," she suggested, wondering if he was looking for a way out. Abby wasn't ready to leave yet. Despite the sneering, the rough look about him, and the mention of that 'condition' no one liked to talk about in her family, she wanted to get to know Simon better. Beyond his tea preference.

Abby twisted her lips to one side and glanced down at the bag of silly gifts swinging on her arm and the shiny new boots she got for winter. A stark contrast to his ratty old shoes that looked like they had seen better days ten years ago. A little crease appeared between her brows and she glanced up at him. Could she? Would she?

"Um. Are things getting better, though? With the... whatchamacallit. Those new laws in the paper?" As if the Prophet had magically produced the laws just by printing them. "Ah, with the, ah, safe houses and the... all that stuff?"

All that stuff, indeed. Abby held her breath. She couldn't seem to say the word: werewolf. So she skirted around it, trying not to offend a brother she barely knew. She knew exactly what her family said about werewolves. They were dangerous. They had no business interacting with normal witches and wizards.

But she'd heard similar things said about her. Squibs were no better than muggles. Muggles were inferior. Etc, etc.