[[OOC: I don't ever, ever usually write this much. Please don't feel obligated to try and length match if you want to join in, and speaking of which, if you do join, I shall shower you with love and affection -Dlee]]

Pa Quigley, owner and proprietor of the Lazy Kelpie, former thief, not-so-former smuggler, con-artist, fencer and criminal de jour, was a walrus of a man. Deus was by turns fascinated and baffled by the massively blubberous wizard's ability to navigate his abundant girth through the narrow space behind the bar and kitchens, and suspected the bottles on the shelf were charmed not to fall off when bumped. Pa had a barrel of a chest, hands like Christmas hams and legs like mountain pine trees. He had a neck as wide as a giant's fist, topped by a round head with huge, round red cheeks coated in a whiskery bush of a salt and pepper (more salt than pepper) beard. His eyes were small and dark, almost overwhelmed by monstrously bushy eyebrows, but they missed little and were balanced by a wide, flat nose and a mouth that smiled and scowled in equal measure. At the moment, it was scowling. Or at least, from the tone of the baritone bellow reverberating up to Deus's bunk, he suspected it was.

Boy? Boy! Getcher lazy, layabout arse down here an' startcher damnable shift!

Deus cracked an eyelid from his position sprawled over the cot and promptly pretended to snore. A long, drawn out wheeze. A high-pitched nose whistle. A slight snort, for effect. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Yer ruttin' symphony ain't foolin' a one of us. Ye ain't too old fer me t'tan yer lly-white hide, so git!

Knowing the old man meant it, Deus made a face. Some start to summer vacation.  But then, he'd known from the first day he sank into those sweet, soft mattresses at Hogwarts that summers were going to be rough in comparison. The half-asleep teenager rolled out of bed, foregoing his usual grace to hit the ground with enough sound to satisfy his pseudo-semi-sort-of-foster-grandfather that he was moving. He stumbled over to the battered wooden chest of drawers sitting crooked in the corner of the little loft room, bracing one foot against the frame to yank on the warped drawers, swollen from the seawater flood that Deus had rescued the contraption from. The drawer exploded open with a squeal of wood on wood, and Deus, well-practiced in its quirks, dropped to a knee to catch it. He fished around for a bit until he came up with the one of the trademark, dark and sickly seaweed green shirts that all the Kelpie crew donned, and in doing so, caught the watery light coming through his curtain with a scowl. "Shit, Pa," He shouted, "My shift don't start 'till sundown!"

He heard the bang of pots from down below, and Pa's bellow in return. Until your damnable, no-account, lily-livered, chicken-shit cheat of an uncle pays yer damn summer rent , yer shift starts when Ah ruttin' well tell yeh it does!

Deus grinned and snickered, wriggling into the hideously colored shirt and running a hand through wayward waves of brown hair that were getting long enough to drive him nuts. He knew darn well and good that his uncle had never paid a knut of the rent he promised Pa Quigley thirteen years ago.  He also knew that Pa'd threaten to kick him out at least three more times that day, and never actually go through with it. Furthermore, he knew that the wood in his otherwise unused lot room was charmed to warmth and against the chill of Northern Scottish winters, and it hadn't been Deus, Haley or any other Kelpie regular that had cast the complicated spell and maintained it each year.

Hadn't always been that way. Patrons loved to tell him of how, thirteen years ago when his Uncle Radley had dumped him with a promise he'd be back in an hour, that Pa Quigley'd turned around and tried to sell him to a hag for 5 Galleons. Luckily for Deus, Haley, the crusty wizard's then-15-year-old-daughter, had ripped him a new one the minute she heard, and kept a close eye on the toddler until he grew up a little. Haley'd been caught up on the edges of a kidnapping gone wrong a few years back and hauled off in chains, but by then, Deus had made himself useful to the master criminal and earned his own place at the Kelpie.

Clothed, and moderately presentable, Deus clambered out of the loft into the kitchen where he grabbed a towel and tossed it over a shoulder, enjoying the chorus of pots and pans, and the wheezy strains of the badly magicked violin and breathy, squeaky flute coming from the common area. "By the way, Pa. My hide ain't lily-white. Lookit," he shoved an arm in the man's face to demonstrate. "Tan as a tourist. "

Pa snorted, the action causing his cheeks to shake tremulously. Wastin' time outside throwin' rocks at the seals when ye outta be workin'.

"Charmin' selkies." Deus corrected with a grin, snatching up a handful of fried potatoes from the skilled Pa was controlling, shaking his hand and hissing in dismay at the heat, dumping the potatoes on a plate while Pa glared at him. "C'mon, ye know 'alf th' selkie brides ye've brokered for shed their skin's 'cause o' meh sparklin' smile." He  scooped up an egg, reached for the bacon, but Pa rapped his knuckles soundly with the spatula, and he desisted. The man didn't deny the statement, but it wasn’t in his nature to recognize that sort of thing, so instead, he rumbled in typical discontent.

Outta skin yer hide, all that philanderin' with anything got two eyes and th' sense o' a stick in th' ground

"Ain't no real harm ever come from it," Deus insisted from around a mouthful of potatoes, fluttering his eyelashes in innocence, vaguely impressed that Pa even knew the word 'philandering'. Pa Quigley stopped all movement, glowering down at the youth in silence. Seconds passed. Deus swallowed and turned scarlet. "Well shoot, Pa Q, 'ow was Ah s'posed t'know she were a damn transfiggered sheep? Thought she was an animagus. Honest mistake." Pa Quigley roared, belly jiggling like a day old jello structure, heaving as the bellowing laughter escaped his gut.

Get on, boy. The Mab's are in, go play with them an' stop botherin' me.

At once, Deus, figured out why he'd been hauled out of bed. The Mab's, Pa Q's nickname for a trio of hag crones, had a particular fondness for him, and if Pa was using him to put them in a good mood, it meant he had product to deal. His hazel eyes went sharp, and he surreptitiously scanned the cramped kitchen. Pa, wise to his ways, chucked a ladle at him.

Git on, then.

Deus dodged the ladle, and, chuckling merrily, grabbed one of the ratty, black and brown stained aprons, which he tied around his waist. "Yeah, yeah. Ah'm gettin'"
 
The Lazy Kelpie was a gem. Dirty, grungy, lit only by lanterns that had seen better days, it fit snugly in every definitional stereotype of a dive. The wooden floors were black with stains, grime, and mysteriously sticky sludge. The whole place stank of stale beer, seaweed and fish, and the violin and flute that one of  the old short-order cooks had magicked to play jaunty Scottish sea tunes had become wheezy and squeaky as the charm faded over the years. No one had bothered to correct it—it added charm. Smoke circled in hazy loops over the heads of the patrons, cards and chess pieces lay scattered over scarred wooden tables, and the pool table's felt-repairing charm was wearing thin. There were no menus, no manners, and nothing that came out of the kitchen or bottles that wasn't dripping with grease or potentially damaging to your internal organs.
Quality, Deus thought with a wide, broad smile, whistling merrily as he kicked the dilapidated door between the kitchen and the rest of the kelpie open. Classic, one-of-a-kind quality.

A small figure emerged from the coast, trailing a sack the size of a nestling hippogriff. A plum tree stuck out of the opening of the sack. Heliotrope paused on the rocky shore, rubbing the salt off her neck that collected from her gills. She pulled out a letter containing instructions. The sea hadn't been kind to it but Heliotrope could read the smudged ink. Her mother Danielle had to remain with the colony in Loch Lomond for spawning season. Heliotrope was given a a few routes to swim home. She could come from the north through the Loch Ness/Loch Linnhe Trench corridor or from the south from the Irish sea. The Irish Sea route was the shortest but by looping around from the north Heliotrope would be able to meet many other merpeople colonies, including a common gathering area of selkies and sirens in the North Sea. Her Loch Lomond colony and the Hogwarts Black Lake colony had greetings for her to deliver as she passed on her travels. Upon leaving the Hogwarts Express at King's Cross, Heliotrope had traversed London, dragging her ruck sack, until she reached the Thames. The salty river helped acclimate her to the sea ahead. Once Heliotrope made it to the ocean she swam North. Either way she would go she would have to battle current and drag her sack with a tether, bobbing along the surface like a moving isle. Despite these encumberments Heliotrope had made good progress, swimming a few feet below the surface and never far from the coast, resting for two or four hour breaks.

Heliotrope had landed in Crovie. Her instructions said that mixed merpeople would often meet in these waters and there was a small gathering of magical folk near the village. A spot to visit would be The Lazy Kelpie. If there was a lazy kelpie, that would mean it would be docile and not a threat. Still, she untied her kelp whip tether and dragged her bag by the normal length handles. The wetter the outside canvas got, the easier it was to slide along the ground.

The Lazy Kelpie was the name of a pub. The kelpie must be kept elsewhere, maybe the basement. That would render it docile quickly. When Heliotrope entered she looked very much like what the tide had rolled in: tangled wet blonde hair with green algae highlights, black lycra swimsuit with one shoulder strap, bare feet covered in sand and the ever-present blob of canvas bag behind her with the plum tree sticking out from it. The floor was sticky with gunk that tickled her feet.

She hauled the sack over to the counter and managed to balance on a tall stool. Now that Heliotrope had Merpeople inhabited waters from here into the interior, she would travel at a leisurely pace. Not that she knew what slacking off meant.

Maybe some hot food. Although she had sustained herself on the journey with live seafood, living at Hogwarts had gotten her to appreciate a warm meal.

Deus smiled his brightest at the three crones seated in the corner, making a beeline for their table with an inward grimace as he bent his head, ducking in to brush his lips against each of their papery cheeks while they twittered in high pitched, nails-on-a-chalkboard amusement. "Pleasure t'see ye again, ladies. Mavluc, did ye do sommat different witcher  'air?" He nodded to the exceptionally unfortunate looking hag seated closest to him, who cackled and rose her long, bony fingers into the frizzy grey ringlets surrounding her monstrous face. Woven in to the tangles were fish bones, and Deus, watching her movements closely, noting the blood under her fingernails with some mild relief—the hags had already eaten. Sure, hags had a bad reputation. They weren't all cave-dwelling child-eaters. But these three? They were. Not that they didn't balance their diet with raw liver and fish heads, of course.

Why, yes I did, dear. Good of you to notice!

Deus winked, and slid in his hands in his pockets. "Yer usual?" He inquired. The trio nodded their assent.
Only if we can't take a bite out of you, dearie.

Knowing from the slightly sharp, carnivorous gleam in their eyes that the ladies meant that 100% literally, Deus eased one hand out of his pocket, the other staying on his wand, which was the reason for the initial action in the first place. Accustomed to keeping a poker face, he grinned and chuckled easily. "Not on the menu, sugar. Ah'll bring yer tea an' livers righ' out." Another wild cackle from the trio, and Deus spun on a heel to head back to the kitchen, when the door swung open.

As was the habit of any resident of the Lazy Kelpie when someone came in the front door, friend or foe, Deus's hand was on his wand immediately. Half the people who came were looking for a fight, and the other half were running from one. You got used to being overly cautious.

To his surprise, it was a stranger. More to the point, it was an awful…smallish stranger.

The Kelpie got merfolk often. It was isolated, an entirely magical community, and right on the sea. They got different types, some of the purely water-dwelling tribes, some of the more crafty, shapeshifting tribes—it had become something of trend for young adult members of a local selkie colony to buck their more traditional parents by coming ashore and seeking a wizard or witch husband, and the Kelpie made no small amount of profit from their adventures.

It wasn't immediately apparent she was part merfolk, but it was immediately apparent she was something. You couldn't get in the Kelpie if you weren't magical in nature. He took in the green highlights in the hair, the swimsuit—that was, perhaps, what threw him off the most—the bag, and most importantly the fact she was soaking wet. Considering the waters of Northern Scotland were cold all year 'round, Deus was willing to bet money she was from one of the cold-water merfolk tribes. And she was either a really, really good shapeshifter for someone so young, or she was a breed.

She looked vaguely familiar, and Deus ran through a list of possibilities, deciding the most likely was that she merely resembled others who had come before her. But still, what was a kid doing here? The possibility she was a traveling student didn't occur to him, though he would have been pleased to know that the Lazy Kelpie's reputation had spread, and positively. Right now, though, Deus was a little more concerned that there was an apparent magical…child in the Kelpie. Deus glanced over at the hag's table to see that they had stopped talking, and were staring at the newcomer with open curiosity and slightly predatory smiles. That didn't happen at the Lazy Kelpie—people kept to themselves.

Deus chucked the towel over his shoulder towards the door to the kitchen and hurried over to the stool where Heliotrope was sitting. Wasting no time, he stood at angle to block her image from the table in back. "You a runaway, kid? Because this really ain't th' place t'play at bein' bad if you wanna keep yer skin intact."

Pulling out his wand, he mumbled something under his breath towards the kitchen, and the door swung open, a shaky platter of fish livers wobbling their way through and over to the table where the Hags sat. The Kelpie was a magical enough hotspot he'd never gotten hauled away in front of the Wizengamot, a warning or two at most, and the criminals who inhabited the place had…slightly less than legal means of interfering with official observance anyway. Hopefully the food would keep them distracted for awhile.

As Heliotrope stared ahead at the mess covered shelves behind the counter, a boy came up beside her. "You a runaway, kid? Because this really ain't th' place t'play at bein' bad if you wanna keep yer skin intact."

Heliotrope looked up at him. She could discern the accent but the words went right over her head. Taking this for a greeting, she said truthfully "My name is Heliotrope LeJean and I am swimming home to Loch Lomond."

She watched him turn to the kitchen door where a wavering plate of fish livers came out. After it passed overhead, one fell off. Heliotrope's kelp whip was still soaked from the sea. With a blink-and-it-was-missed wrist movement the greenery shot out to snag the falling liver midair. Heliotrope yanked it back and then licked the salt off of it.

My name is Heliotrope LeJean and I am swimming home to Loch Lomond.

Well, that answered that. Deus sighed and ran a distracted hand through his hair. "So, ye're a breed, eh?" He mused, mostly to himself. A closer scan showed the slightly grey skin, the webbed hands, and the giveaway expression--part merfolk, most definitely selkie if she was headed to Lomond by way of swimming. Though none of it showed on his carefully schooled face, Deus ran through a rapid stream of mental responses to this new information. His first reaction was amused pleasure that the Kelpie had a strong enough reputation among the selkie schools that it merited mention as a stopping point, the second was that selkies, as a whole, had a damn weird perception of danger, if they were sending their kids through here. Brawls were regular, exposure to all manner of deadly things a daily routine, and while theft inside the Kelpie was kept to a minimum under the staff's eagle and well-versed eyes, the minute you stepped outside you were fair game.

"Y'need a place t'stay fer the night?" His tone was easy and friendly, and he made an effort to control his accent, but he could only do so much. The wall of the bar was spelled like a one-way mirror, with a variation of a fidelius charm on it to keep the fact it had been spelled as such a secret. Deus, for years, had watch Pa Quigley and the other staff members make comments about the bar, staring at a blank wall, before they'd finally let him in on the charm, and, subsequently, the ability to see through the otherwise opaque wood. Knowing that Pa could see him from the kitchen, Deus made an absent hand gesture to signify he was bailing, and then reached for Heliotrope's arm, prepared to yank his own back if she misinterpreted and tried using that kelp whip on him.  "'Cause our rooms downstairs have sea access. Why don't Ah show ye?"

Hags and merfolk didn't mix, if Deus recalled correctly. Something about being status or something or other--maybe he should really have paid more attention in History of Magic. All he knew was they didn't traditionally like eachother much, and here he had three child-eating hags and a selkie child. Mr Nice Guy, Deus was not. But he also didn't think that good reputation of the Kelpie's would survive an attempted eating of a what, eight year old kid by some bloodthirsty old ladies.

"Why, who is this darling child?" Mavluc, the oldest of the three hags crooned, as the three moved to form a loose semi-circle around where Deus was leaning on the bar and Heliotrope's stool was.

Well, bother. Deus suppressed a sigh and wondered how good Heliotrope was with that whip. Or if he could diplomat his way out of this...

"So, ye're a breed, eh?" Heliotrope gave a rare blink, the film of her eyelids not dulling her eyes. She nodded her head, as interactions with the wizarding world the past year had made her understand that she was something called a "half-breed."

Heliotrope could usually sense danger in the water but with the lack of moisture in the air on dry land this perception diminished. The teen was making jerky, rushed comments that she did not realize where attempts to protect her in this dangerous inn.

"Y'need a place t'stay fer the night? 'Cause our rooms downstairs have sea access. Why don't Ah show ye?"

He griped her by the the arm. She returned the gesture by grabbing his arm, running her fingers along the rough cloth of his scraggly shirt. "Undersea rooms?" Heliotrope hadn't noticed any Trenches along the coast but then she hadn't gone too far into the depths. "Is that where you keep the Lazy Kelpie?"

They were surrounded by very ugly women than reminded Heliotrope of mackerel. One of them said "Why, who is this darling child?"

Heliotrope gave the same response. "My name is Heliotrope LeJean and I am swimming home to Loch Lomond." Then she added as an afterthought, as she had forgotten it earlier: "I have just been to one year of school at Hogwarts."

Deus arched a brow and stayed silent for a minute, staring in blatant disbelief at the young girl. Against his better instincts, he felt a tug of something sort of like pity. After a little more analyzing, he realized pity wasn't quite right, it was sort of a combination of bafflement and obligation. He had a weakness for the, to put it delicately, socially inept. They were a pleasant change from his regular associations—which was to say, liars, cheats, and cunning, underhanded crooks. He sighed. "Ain't all tha' socialized yet, are ye, sweet'eart." It was more of a comment than a question, though their brief association left him to believe Heliotrope wasn't likely to be up on her knowledge of what was and wasn't a rhetorical question.

Deus was surprised when the young girl gripped his arm in return, but years of instinct controlled his body to keep from jumping. Physical contact wasn't something he was particularly used to, most especially when it was initiated by someone else. Being surprised was another thing on the list he wasn't used to. His eyes narrowed slightly, and swept the mergirl in a re-evaluating gaze.

"Not quite, fleet fins.  They've just like, " Deus ran a hand through his hair, lost as how to explain this. The rooms in the basement were carved from the caves in the cliffs. Some of them were normal, but most of them were for smuggling or visiting selkies, half-submerged. "Well ye'll 'ave to see 'em." He stared at her at the next part of the statement, "Where we—what—nae, 'tropes, there's nae a kel—"
Hogwarts? Well no shit. She'd swum a heck of a way. Deus's esteem inched upward.

Hoping she wouldn't respond by using that whip of his, Deus slid an arm around the girl's shoulders and pivoted to face the hags with his sweetest smile. "She's m'cousin. Fae me auld granmammy's side. Her…niece's…sister's….daughter?" Yeah, that worked. "See th' resemblance?" He fluttered his brown-gold eyes  and ran a hand through his brown hair. "Been swimmin' all night.  Lean muscle an' all tha'. Nae a speck o' fat t' taste. Just me stringy, salty, scrawny wee cousin."  He spoke rapidly, in hopes that Heliotrope wouldn't catch all of it. He then slowed down, attempting to steer Heliotrope off the stool and towards the kitchens, yammering cheerfully the whole way.

Various bits and questions went right over Heliotrope's head but she caught a few. "I would like to swim through the sea rooms. It must be big enough for the kelpie to swim through if it is not there."

At a point the boy was twisting her about. "She's m'cousin. Fae me auld granmammy's side. Her…niece's…sister's….daughter? See th' resemblance? Been swimmin' all night.  Lean muscle an' all tha'. Nae a speck o' fat t' taste. Just me stringy, salty, scrawny wee cousin." He began pushing her to the side.

"You are my cousin?" Heliotrope asked while being shoved. "Your granmumry is related to my mother Danielle. You have a regional voice, not the voice of the lands Danielle came from." Her mother didn't say what her life in France had been like so for all purposes Heliotrope could take this as the truth.

He must be taking her to the undersea rooms. To not forget her bag she whipped her kelp past the hags to snag the handles of her bag. Not a perfect tether but it would drag. She halted while the bag acted as an anchor before it slowly dragged after them.

Deus gave up. Let her think there was a kelpie. Honestly, there probably was—he wouldn't put it past Pa to have one.

"Hmm?" Deus glanced over shoulder to see Pa coming out and gathering the attention of the three hags. His expression didn't change, and he turned back to Heliotrope. "So yer ma's th' landwalker?" He asked, clarifying in his head her heritage. Presumably, anyway, since she had said lands instead of waters, and he hadn't ever met a selkie calling herself Danielle. "So yer pa's…?" He trailed off, fishing for more information. If her family was rich enough to be sending their kid to Hogwarts, there could be an opportunity for profit here. Presuming, of course, she wasn't there on scholarship. He could see that happening under Greyfriar, but somehow Snark didn't seem like the type to dole out dough to folks like Trope. No offense intended. Catching her question, Deus snickered merrily.

"Ah dinnae ken, lassie. Probably ain't on yer ma's side. Ah'm a breed, iffen ye go back far enou' in me family. So Ah may very well be."  In a smooth moment, Deus wriggled his foot out of his boot, wriggling his slightly webbed toes. His foot slid back in the shoe just as smoothly—getting in and out of boots was one of his more unusual skills, but you never knew when you'd need to ditch 'em. He grinned and moved to give the younger student a jovial slap on the back, suspecting she would reciprocate, after the arm grab. Then again, she may attack him. Deus was getting that she wasn't exactly engrossed in non-mermish culture quite yet, even after a year. "Welcome tae th' clan, fins." He opened a  door to the lower level, too narrow for two people to go down side by side, and signaling for her to follow, went down first with a muttered Alohomora .

"Ye wannae room wit' sea access, or completely underwater? We got both." He tapped on the door at the end of the basement hallway casually with his wand. It didn't look like much from the outside, just a wooden door hanging sadly on its hinges, but the whole place was booby-trapped quite discreetly, and this particular door didn't always lead to the same place without some instruction from a Kelpie crewmate. While the upper levels were wood, the lower levels were built right into the Scottish cliffside. After a pause, he sighed, if he was going to try and profit off of this, he might as well do it right. "By th' by, kiddo. Ye do ken that those hackit auld ladies were hags, aye? Know fer eatin' bairns ahn all that." He didn't add they were natural enemies of the merfolk, preferring to hear her response first.

"My mother Danielle LeJean and spawn father Kulgor made Union," Heliotrope confirmed. The boy removed a boot showing toes with extra skin, nothing in comparison to the frog legs Heliotrope had. "You must have equally as tiny gills."

Apparently indoctrination into this clan, what he called a colony, was a thunderous slap on the back shoulder blades. Heliotrope shuddered at the impact.

"You have completely underwater rooms?" Heliotrope asked. "I would like that but my plum tree has had enough water." The dwarf plant sticking out of her canvas sack was the reason she stuck to swimming near the surface. Being dragged through the oceans would kill it quickly.

After hearing an explanation on hags, Heliotrope said "What do bairns task like? Is it a regional fish?"

Some people may have been stunned at the frankness with which Heliotrope proclaimed just how she came about existing, but Deus just grinned like a cheshire cat. This kid was priceless. "Gotcha." Making an effort to be literal—as amusing as it was to wonder just how she would interpret some of his more colorful metaphors and idioms—he shook his head. "Nae gills, luv. Jes lungs fer meh."

He whistled to himself and nodded as she explained her preference. Tapping a few times on the door with his wand, he murmured something rapid, the tip of his wand glowed and the door swung open on its creaky hings. "'Ere we go, fins. Right through 'ere."

Deus opened his mouth. Closed it. Literal. Keep it literal. "Why," He began, struggling to keep a vernacular and baffled "in Merlin's purple pants" out of his language "Do ye 'ave a tree in yer sack?" Did he want to know?

What do bairns task like? Is it a regional fish?

Deus eyed the small girl in front of him, with gills, green-tinted skin, and who had just swam who knew how many miles. He paused. "Aye. Sommat like that. Jes…stay away from 'em." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Th' 'ags, Ah mean. Ahn ye donnae get tae ask why . " He added after a minute, nodding to himself as if deciding this was satisfactory.

The room was just as it was described, a few furnishings with one corner opening to the water, as if designed by ice fishing house builder. Heliotrope followed him inside.

"The plum tree was my final in Herbology. I am taking it home to plant on my mother's island in Loch Lomond." Should anyone have forgotten where she was from.

"You will have to show me where the sea access comes out," Heliotrope said as they stood over the dip. And recalling his clan sign, the back slap, she swung her arm back and hit him with enough force that he tumbled into the drink

"Never liked Herbology. Plants." He made a face, but otherwise just nodded as she explained. "Ahn the chute comes out by the three rocks that look like a clam stickin' its foot out. Ye'd 'ave swam past it."

Deus, who was usually pretty good at staying on his toes, wasn't quite ready for Heliotrope's enthusiastic response, and it off balanced him just enough, and he was just in the right spot, that he toppled in with a splash.

Luckily, he was pretty mellow, and the cold shock of water diffused any temper response he may have had. He spluttered a little bit when he came up, gave her a look that was a cross between calculating and a glare but not quite, and decided it had been innocuous.

But that didn't mean he couldn't get his revenge.

She seemed to take things literally, and disinclined to mistrust strangers, so why not have a little fun? He pulled himself easily out the water, wringing out his shirt with mild dismay. He'd have to cast a drying charm before he went upstairs or the crew would die laughing. But while he liked his milder sorts of revenge to take their time, he also liked to be around for the results. So what could he tell her that would impact her somewhere where he could watch?

Personal amusement was a beautiful thing.

"Ah'll let ye in on a secret, since we be family ahn all. Ye ever seen two people kissin'? Ye know, bring their lips together?" He was tempted to add  'and sucking like an octopus' but he decided against it. She was a kid, he couldn't be too mean. "It be 'cause they're auld friends. Great way tae show a lad or lass yer friendly. Not distant family, o'course. A...firm handshake says it all between say, ye and me. But friends ye 'ave nae seen...'tis a very important gesture."

"Ah'll let ye in on a secret, since we be family ahn all. Ye ever seen two people kissin'? Ye know, bring their lips together?" Heliotrope nodded. When her mother and spawn father did this, they called it the Sharing of Air. They did it at times she they swam together or Danielle's Bubble Head Charm went out. It was similar to what the land dwellers did to someone that ran out of air in their lungs.

Deus continued. "It be 'cause they're auld friends. Great way tae show a lad or lass yer friendly. Not distant family, o'course. A...firm handshake says it all between say, ye and me. But friends ye 'ave nae seen...'tis a very important gesture."

This made an amount of sense. Union only came after a time the couple was "friendly" as the Sharing of Air indicated you thought of them, a breath of theirs in you and yours in them. She hadn't seen anyone from Hogwarts during her swim and she might not see them until the start of term in the fall. Now she could meet her classmates with knowledge of a land dweller custom.

Leaving the bag, she jumped in the channel as well and swam the length to the exit, then surfaced again. From her bag she pulled out her yearbook, that had everyone's name and pictures. The intent of these were not to forgot your classmates, so Heliotrope matched names and faces, thinking of how to introduce herself properly in the future.