Diagon Alley - wohoo! Ambrose couldn't quite believe it would be his forth year in only a matter of days. The summer had shot by with the trip and hearing about Theta learning alongside Ambrose's father at the Ministry. He'd done hardly any reading apart from his Care of Magical Creatures textbook which was now well leafed and full of little drawings Ambrose had made while learning the different species.

The Pepper family were in Diagon Alley for the best part of the day. His aunt and uncle had brought Ambrose and his younger brother Tim, who was going into second year and his cousins, and they would all meet at the Leaky Cauldron for dinner where hopefully his father and Theta, his eldest cousin would join them after their working day.

In the meantime, Ambrose had been given permission to do his own shopping, but had naturally got distracted and wandered towards the magical menagerie, where to his surprise he spotted a familiar face outside peering in.
"John!" Ambrose greeted in a most friendly and familiar tone, "How are you?" He clapped a hand on his housemate's shoulder, and then peered through the window.
"You going in?" He asked, tilting his head to the door of the shop which opened with other customers coming out. Above the door the bell rang with a most inviting tone.

"They might have blast ended skrewts in, have you seen them?" He wasn't sure if John had ever taken Care of Magical Creatures, but Ambrose was fanatical about most creatures these days, and would share the interest with anyone. "Tell you, one of these strapped to your broomstick and wheee....!" Ambrose mimed a broomstick accelerating at speed. "That'd be ten points to Gryffindor easily."

Had placed his hands against the glass of the Menagerie, peering into the little storefront curiously. Oh, he'd seen it before, naturally -- he was about to be in his sixth year at Hogwarts -- but he always enjoyed making rounds to observe the new and exciting in Diagon Alley. There seemed to be rather little going on, here, and the boy mused that he would rather be at Quality Quidditch Supplies -- or, perhaps, that Quality Quidditch Supplies had stocked anything new and exciting. Your typical affair, it was; the new models of old brooms, guaranteed to be minutely faster than their predecessors -- and not a whole lot else.

A vaguely familiar voice caught his attention, and Kingside turned his gaze towards Ambrose. Ah, yes -- they weren't best buds, but they were housemates, and Kingside recognized him all the same.

"Ambrose," he greeted, smiling warmly -- not, that is, the winning smile he proffered to cute girls. That might throw Ambrose off a bit. "Good," he replied, turning his attention back towards the shop. "Mostly faffing about the Alley, aye." Mulling over the question for a moment -- whether or not he had planned to go in -- Kingside decided to reply as such; "Might as well -- no, never have, perhaps you can show me. I'll warn ye, though, my broom goes quite fast enough on its own; don't wanna lose any skin just flyin' about, do I?"

"Lose your skin?!" Ambrose looked shocked, his overactive imagination already picturing it. "Is that possible? Has someone been skinned alive riding a broomstick too fast?!" His chin was dropping Southwards as he gaped.

"Well, er, don't want that. I mean the girls joke about you losing clothes, but not your skin, that's just... not right." Ambrose shook his head, not quite realising what he'd just told John about the girls being interested in his older housemate's looks off the pitch.

The two Gryffindors stepped inside, and were met with the smell of straw, dung and the warm musty smell of animals in the August heat. Snakes basked under bewitched daylight orbs on one side, and lizards who preferred cooler conditions lay in tanks with stones laid in and water. Birds fluttered above them on perches and hoops, their feathers bright and varied, littering the floor below as they pecked and preened.

In the center of the room was a set of open topped hutches, which Ambrose made a bee-line for. All around them meanwhile, girls cooed over kittens and puffskein and rats and owls were snapped up by parents preparing first years for Hogwarts. Ambrose had never had a pet - put down to the fact he was clumsy enough and the Pepper household had to look normal being amongst Muggles. The fact was rapidly irritating Ambrose who would rather move to the middle of nowhere and have a farm full of interesting creatures.

Peering down at the crups, Ambrose suddenly took a double take, and peered up at the bird hanging over their heads.
"Oh Merlin, is that really?" He pointed upwards and glanced to John, before peering at the tag hanging down in the air, confirming his suspicions.
"Phoenix, for rehoming, its owner sadly deceased." Ambrose almost choked at the price listed. It was a majestic creature, but it did not look well at all.
"Bugger the blast-ended skrewts, have you ever seen one of those?" He asked John, his chin almost perpetually slack that visit.

A hand, previously shoved into the pocket of a pair of stylish jeans, came up to stroke the underside of the Phoenix's maw. "Just in the curriculum books," Kingside replied, smiling as it cooed gently, "she's a beaut, though, tha's for sure. "A bit under the weather -- might be nearin' her burnin' day, aye? Once she springs up outta her own ashes, she'll be lovely as ever, I'm sure." After a bit more nuzzling, he returned his hand to his pockets.

Out of his peripherals, Kingside caught the eye of a rather cute young minx, closer to his age than Ambrose's, and surrounded by a gaggle of likewise comely friends. "Love," he greeted from across the room, flashing a winning smile and a wink; she blushed and giggled with her friends. A light wave was offered to Kingside as she and her group exited the shop. Turning back to Ambrose, Kingside chuckled; "Gotta appreciate beauty where ya can find it, aye?"

"Gotta appreciate beauty where ya can find it, aye?"

"Same as, I wonder what she does look like on a good day." Ambrose spoke up, a little behind on the girl. He looked down to John and realised the giggling girls.
"Oh! Oh, I meant the phoenix, and you er, meant that girl." He stared across the shop at the group of girls for a little longer than was cool. Ambrose was still at the stage where he didn't quite know how to deal with his interest in girls (admittedly many women would tell you that most men hardly grow out of this in a lifetime). John however, had the moves, clearly.

"Do you, erm, know her?" Ambrose asked John, a little in awe, and curious as to whether his housemate could explain the mystery that were pretty girls. Meanwhile one of the other girls was staring back at Ambrose with a kind of 'what are you looking at' expression plastered across her face. Embarrassed, Ambrose looked up at the phoenix, blushing.

"Cripes, I'm best sticking to animals. Girls stare at me as if I've got dragon pox." Ambrose muttered, and glanced to John. "I suppose it helps, being the Quidditch hero of Gryffindor."

Kingside glanced at Ambrose with a coy smile and a chuckle.

"No, I don't," he remarks. "I've seen 'er before, but I don't know 'er personally." Turning back to the phoenix, he smiled gently, obviously marveling in the creature's magnificence -- it was rather rare, as magical creatures go, and while he could never pursue such a career himself, Kingside could understand Ambrose's desire to take care of magical creatures later in life.

"Oh, aye, has its benefits," he commented about the Quidditch hero bit, "but it's just confidence, mate. They love it. Teenage girls are the simplest thing in the world t'understand, trust me."

"Simplest?" Ambrose spluttered. Unless John meant simplest due to their inexperience in dating, in the same way teenage boys were, and that grown women were far more crafty - that he would agree with.

"You should write a book, people would buy it with a cover quote like that." He assured John, amazed. "Girls are just, confusing, they think one thing one moment, and another the next. I mean, you're never bored I suppose, but its a headache. With guys you know where you are, if they look cross, its because they are, if they're not speaking to you, its not because they're trying to get your attention, its because they think you're an arse."

Ambrose shrugged his shoulders and expressed confusion with his hand gesture.
"How do you know what they're thinking then? Or are you some mind reader...?"

Zoe walked through the door of the Magical Menagerie, a shopping list in hand. She was doing her Hogwarts shopping like every year and, after being fitted for this year's robes, went to get pet supplies while her parents got her all the new books she would need. On the list was a large amount of kneazle food, even though her cat was only a fourth kneazle, and an owl, as well as the option Zoe had of buying whatever looked interesting. It was one of the advantages to her parents giving her more galleons than they knew she'd need.

The owl was something Zoe had decided to try out, secretly keeping another pet. Zoe had found after three years at Hogwarts that it would be helpful to have an owl of her own, but she didn't want to give up Snowy. That's when her mother had devised a brilliant plan. Lily, a free house elf of the Torrets, would own the owl instead but send it to Hogwarts at the beginning of every year so Zoe would be able to use it. Zoe would tell the owl to stay in the Owlery so she could use it throughout the year. At the end of the year Zoe would send it back. That way she didn't bring it to Hogwarts by the train or own it. Though Zoe had offered to bring Lily with to choose the owl, Lily had insisted Zoe chose it instead.

Looking through the many cages she saw two boys were in the shop, both which she faintly reconized as being from Hogwarts. "Hello," she greeted, walking towards them. "You're both from Hogwarts, right? I'm Zoe Torret, a Ravenclaw." She glanced around at the owl cages, looking for one that interested her. Since she knew Lily took great prize in helping Zoe by owning the owl, she had to make Lily would be owning the coolest owl she could find. She didn't want to feel like she was talking advantage of the elf.

"No, no," Kingside replied with a lopsided grin, "not a mind reader, mate. Just a sympathetic man." Being able to step into another person's shoes definitely helped you connect with them -- which was a great way to meet women! "Ya just gotta put yerself in their shoes, Ambrose. See, ye just listed a whole bunch a' thoughts a girl might have! Ya' obviously know how they think, so ye just gotta turn it around, figure out how they feel, and then decide what to tell 'em. It's just bein' charismatic. I'll bet ye over think it."

Turning his gaze upon Zoe as she spoke to them, he smiled. "John Kingside," he replied, by way of greeting. He clapped Ambrose on the back, "This is Ambrose Pepper. Real stud, this'n. Natural athlete, book smart, lover of animals. Really."

Quietly, Kingside turned his attention towards an owl in a large cage, ignoring Ambrose for a moment. Were he very observant, he might note Kingside's desire to see him at least attempt to talk with the girl, if not flirt with her. Kingside was decent with the ladies, but no Cupid was he.

"No, no, not a mind reader, mate. Just a sympathetic man."
"Oh right." Ambrose replied, as if it explained everything. Then he stopped, and frowned, "You what?"
"Ya just gotta put yerself in their shoes, Ambrose. See, ye just listed a whole bunch a' thoughts a girl might have! Ya' obviously know how they think, so ye just gotta turn it around, figure out how they feel, and then decide what to tell 'em. It's just bein' charismatic. I'll bet ye over think it."

Ambrose's hand went to his chin as he imagined why he should want to walk in the shoes that girls wore. They had pointy toes and they complained their feet ached all the time. Not to mention the heels - well some of the girls said heels made your legs look sexy but they took some practise to walk in. Whether they'd lend any to Ambrose to practise in, he doubted - and a girl who he wanted to chat up was hardly likely to hand over her shoes, was she?

The Gryffindor's pondering had meant that Zoe's appearance caught him by surprise.

"Hello, you're both from Hogwarts, right? I'm Zoe Torret, a Ravenclaw." Sometimes when people weren't your direct friends, you didn't recognise or place them immediately. Zoe had pre-empted that with the two Gryffindor boys.

"John Kingside," John swooped into action, taking it in his stride once again. He clapped Ambrose on the back, who coughed in surprise.
"This is Ambrose Pepper. Real stud, this'n. Natural athlete, book smart, lover of animals. Really."

Ambrose blushed ferociously. No one had ever described him as a natural athlete, they were too busy moaning at how inept he was at regulating his magical output to notice. Not only was it a surprise to hear it, it was very flattering to hear it from John as Quidditch Captain, and to top it off with a cherry, it was before a girl in his class who was not only clever but nice looking too.

"Hah, you're too kind John." Ambrose managed to get out, trying to reduce his blushes, and then realised he'd been left alone with Zoe.

What had John said... sympathetic... shoes.

Ambrose looked down at Zoe's shoes immediately.
"Er, are they very comfortable?" He asked. Given it was a very unusual first question, he was thankful his subconscious noticed that Zoe had been looking at the owls before Ambrose's question had made her look down at her shoes. (To make matters worse, the art of asking about a woman's shoes was a trick boys employed to make a lady bend forward for better examination of her bosom, not that Ambrose knew it.)

"Were you looking for an owl?" Ambrose asked, his tone more like his usual, and he smiled politely. "Everyone says its cheaper to own an owl for their post, but I say it depends on the type, because the food can be pricey if you hardly send a letter." He glanced over his shoulder at John, curious as to whether he was being sympathetic and whatever the shoes bit meant.

"Hello Ambrose, John, nice to meet both of you." She could tell that the way John spoke meant one of two things, either he was trying to take attention off himself, or he was trying to get her to like Ambrose/Ambrose hit on her. Zoe could also tell that Ambrose was not expecting it from his immediate blushing and awkwardness. The young witch raised a hand to scratch her upper lip and hide soft giggling. As this was the year of Zoe's first Yule Ball she was wondering how many boys would make fools of themselves in front of her. Hopefully more than less, so she'd have a better pick. She walked towards the two boys, her attention turned to the owl that John was looking at. Zoe then looked back at Ambrose, waiting for the part where he'd truely make a fool of himself.

The next question slightly surprised Zoe, though she followed his gaze down to her shoes. They were plain black with a heel, not too tall be taller than her one and three quarters inch heel that was on her Hogwarts shoes. The young witch once again supressed a giggle. "Yes, they're quite comfortable," was all she said in return, making eye contact for a few seconds to test if he'd quickly look away or be able to hold it. She had to admit she was toying a little with Ambrose. He was her practice, she had never been in the situation before. Zoe had seen her best friend, Ayla, in this situation but never once experienced it herself. It was rather fun, when you weren't the awkward one.

However Ambrose seemed able to compose himself and asked a more logical question for the situation. "Yes, I was. I've found that my two-way mirror isn't always effective, if I need to contact someone other than my parents it is harder to get a hold of them, and if I tell my mum or dad to pass on a message they don't always do. Hogwarts owls aren't as personal and you don't really have the same relationship. So my elf, Lily, agreed to owning an owl for my use and sending it to Hogwarts every year with me. It's a little complicated, the plan my mum devised so I could also bring my cat, but it'll work." She looked around, observing all the owls. "Lily's so sweet, but I feel a little like I'm taking advantage of her." This was quite a rare statement when talking about any elf, but Zoe felt that way. "So I'm going to buy the coolest owl in the shop for her. I was hoping for a rare breed or maybe some rare genetic thing. Money is no concern." She patted a skirt pocket, which jingled with galleons.

Zoe's eyes returned to Ambrose. "Perhaps you can help me, since John says you love animals and you seem to know a little about them." The young witch smiled and faced Ambrose directly. Somehow she felt that the boy would either become overly awkward or provide her with a good suggestion. If he was trying to impress her he'd get her the most amazing owl he'd ever seen.

Kingside resisted the urge to rub his temples as Ambrose shot off the line about shoes; he definitely should have indicated the metaphorical nature of what he had said. Ambrose was far too literal of a boy -- alas, they seemed to be doing all right, though it couldn't be too terribly long before he blundered on about something or other, or said something awkward. Then again, perhaps not; she had a problem, and was asking him questions, about his field of expertise. He was in his element!

"Breakin' rules, 'eh?" Kingside interjected briefly. "What a catch! Ooh, and lookin' fer an owl?" Kingside glanced at Ambrose briefly, then back to Zoe. "I'm sure Ambrose knows jus' what kinda owl ye'd like. I'm gonna go admire the phoenix over there a wee bit more. Can't get enough a' natural wonders. Cheers!" With that, he excused himself from the two more thoroughly, standing five or ten feet away and stroking the phoenix's maw once more, keeping an ear and eye out for Zoe and Ambrose.

Feeling a little less awkward now, given the conversation had moved from shoes into territory of animals, Ambrose took it upon himself to make a better impression on Zoe. After all, she probably only really knew him as the magically-incapable Gryffindor boy in her class which everyone from teachers to first years exclaimed at as soon as he raised a wand.

"Er, owls... yes so you want your owl to deliver post. So if its little letters every now and then, you can probably look at the little owls like the pygmies, but they get tired out quickly so shouldn't be used for long distances." Ambrose motioned to the very cute littler owls above them, mostly sleeping given it was daytime. "If you wanted to send parcels or long distance you would need quite a big owl, like a great horned owl." Some of the largest owls were enormous and could take out cats or small dogs.

"But you said you had a cat, so you don't want your owl to be prey to your cat, or the cat prey to the owl, so you probably want something in between..."

Now John's attempt to get Ambrose to talk to Zoe wasn't so hidden. It was so blatantly obvious he might as well told Ambrose to talk to Zoe and shove him towards her. Luckily by then he seemed to have gotten himself more together. Maybe John was right that he did know a lot about owls.

Ambrose did seem to have pretty good advice. "So a medium owl then. Let's have a look of what's here." Zoe began to walk cage to cage, examining the owls. There were all sorts of different colors, white, brown, black, reddish, stripped, speckled, it was very hard to choose. "There are so many, but there has to be one stand-out," she commented, looking at a brown owl that was white speckled. It looked back at her with its big yellow eyes.

Zoe started to walk away, still unimpressed, when she heard a sound that like a dog bark. "Huh?" Zoe turned back to the owl, who made the barking sound. The young witch nearly burst out laughing. "Blimey, it sounds like it's barking!" She took the owl cage in her hand, lifting it to look at the owl. "I never heard of an owl enchanted to bark before, though this owl doesn't look like it was enchanted either..." Zoe brought the owl over to Ambrose. "I think this guy might be good. Snowy isn't scared of dogs. What do you think?"

Zoe perused the line of owls though appeared indecisive. Ambrose had always loved the serene faces of the barn owls, but he could watch most owls for hours on end just sitting and staring. The larger ones were fascinating for their strength, and the small ones were cute according to girls, but Ambrose always feared someone might sit on one.

"Ha, yeah they do sound like they're barking[1]. At least you'll always know where your owl is in the dark." Ambrose grinned.

"So, what is your cat like?" He asked, "I guess by the name Snowy, he must be white?"

1.	Barking Owl