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Need A Little Help
Author: Nana Minuet
Date: 05-21-13 13:48
Parents Day had revealed Hogwarts for what it truly was: a dark pit of emotion. One could try to fight it or run from it, but they would still feel something on those school grounds. They may feel boredom or sadness. They may feel romantic, excited, or happy. No matter what, they would still feel. Nana was not exempt from this and that's what irked her the most. She was not a girl who necessarily wanted to feel. Well, that wasn't the most correct statement. She liked to feel good – to 'glow' in her own words. It was the bad feelings that could have taken a dive off a cliff for all she cared, but that wasn't about to happen. Not while Hogwarts was having its way.
Luckily, it was a Hogsmeade weekend for the students, so Hogwarts could pick another plaything for the time being. For now, Nana was going to be gone. Ramona was going to be too, as she had her fourth apparition lesson to attend, but that didn't mean much. Nana had successfully avoided being alone with her peer for the last seven days, so one more shouldn't have been any harder. Though the French girl did feel bad for her dorm mate – and there were those emotions again! Even as she walked to the gate separating the two grounds, Nana could feel Hogwarts extending an arm to bring its little dolly back. Just one touch from those stretched out phalanges and Nana was at its mercy if only just for a little bit longer.
Nana sighed audibly as she got closer to the gate, which contained her freedom on the other side. Hogwarts would have to wait for even if Nana wanted to stay, she had business to do. There was a tragedy beyond her delicate appearance for Sac d'Chat had finally let its treasure run its course. It was finally empty.
The French girl had to stop once she actually entered the bustling area known as Hogsmeade to pull a note from her purse. It was from Malcolm Fawkes her…friend and though he wrote in chicken scratch, his letter wasn't too hard to read. At least he had written it in French for his newest little acquaintance. He wanted her to meet him at number 32 in Hogsmeade, along with a side note telling her that she couldn't miss it. It took Nana a moment of looking down both alleys in the small village before she looked in front of her and smiled.
Malcolm was definitely right. She really couldn't have missed no. 32 unless she wasn't really looking. It was a strange building, compared to its neighbors who were lit and warm, which sat at the entrance to the little town as a beacon of hope. Well, as a beacon for Nana at least.
There was a quick glance to the sides on her part, but once Nana was sure she was in the clear, she made her way to the building itself. She knocked twice on the large door before sounds could be heard from inside. They were hard to decipher, but Nana was sure she heard two sets of laughter coming from within the walls. The small Ravenclaw tried to put an ear to the door to see if she could recognize the voices. One had to be Malcolm – that she knew, but she wasn't so sure about the other one.
Her ear had still been pressed against the cold door when it opened to let the warm air from the inside out. Nana stepped back at this, slightly surprised in her own right, and prepared to greet her friend when she noticed it wasn't him who had answered the door. Instead, a tall man (at least when compared to her) with pale skin and wild hair stared back at her as if she was the weirdest thing he had seen all week. Whatever smile had been on his lips seconds earlier was gone as he furrowed his brows towards the girl in his midst.
In mock politeness, Nana smiled at the man, though that didn't seem to elicit an immediate response. If anything, it made his stare intensify as he watched his little visitor. She could feel nerves the size and consistency of ants come alive under her skin, crawling up and down her arms and neck as she drew up the courage to speak. There was a fear that the man might feast on her virgin heart if she didn't. "Ees Malcomb here? He say come here."
"Malcolm," the man called into the building's belly not even seconds after Nana spoke. "Who the hell is this?"
Malcolm Fawkes appeared a moment later with a smile as his blue eyes fell onto Nana's sweet face. "Hé Nana! Comment allez-vous?"
"No," the other fellow said to Malcolm as he shook his head furiously. "Uh, uh. You're not doing business with a kid at my place. I'm an auror for Merlin's sake, Mal. She looks my little cousin's age! No, no, no. This is a bad idea, worse than bad. I could get into major shit for this, Mal."
"Relax, Rog," Malcolm said as he put a hand on his male friend's shoulder. "She isn't as young as she looks. Tell my friend here your age, Nana. Aren't you going to be sixteen soon?"
Nana nodded at her friend before looking back at the other man who Malcolm had affectionately called Rog. He did not seem to look happy by any of this in the least with his arms crossed over his chest in the fashion that they were, but at least some of his intimidation had worn off. Now he just watched Nana, his eyes attempting to pierce into her as she translated her thoughts for him. "Seesteen on Marsh eighth."
The reaction from Malcolm at Nana's words was to playfully punch his friend in the shoulder. "See? Almost shagging age in the Muggle World. Plus I remember us being into some pretty wild stuff at that age. Can't deny it either."
Rog rolled his eyes and shuddered all at the same time, which only made his daunting affect weaken that much more. "Number one, you're sick – she's a child. Number two, I don't like this."
"Don't worry," Malcolm replied as he let the hand that was formerly on his friend's shoulder sweep through his own dark hair. "She's chill. I trust her. If anyone asks, she was here to see me. We're family friends. Right, Nana?"
Malcolm Fawkes now raised two thick eyebrows in Nana's direction as a gesture that asked her to play along. Of course, she would. She would do whatever it took to fill up her sweet little coin purse once more. Just the thought of her 'help' made Nana antsy to get inside of the flat anyway, so that business could be attended to. The coldness of the air outside didn't exactly help either.
The student let out a slight shiver as she decided it was time for the nonsense to stop. The ball needed to get rolling. "Oui. Maintenant, Sasquatch laissez-moi dedans? J'ai froid comme balles ici."
Malcolm practically combusted with laughter as Nana finished speaking, which only seemed to confuse Rog as he stared intently between the pair of them. "She says," Mal spoke between catching his breath and wiping his eyes. "She asks if you will let her in. She's as, uh, cold as, uh, balls out here."
"She said that?" Rog's face broke into an incredulous smile as Malcolm began to laugh once more. "Did she call me sasquatch too? I thought I heard her say something about a sasquatch in there."
"Well," Malcolm said as he tried to contain his laughter once more. It didn't work very well. "You could use a little grooming. Maybe some detangling serum and a hairbrush."
"You, shut up," Rog said though a smile as he pointed at Mal. He then brought his finger to point at Nana before finally succumbing to the laughter boiling within. He tamed it down for a moment to speak to Nana, but she could see it waiting to come out in his eyes. The intimidation from before was gone completely. Rog was just another guy, nothing to be scared of there. "You should probably get inside, I guess. Just be cool, yeah?"
Nana nodded. She could definitely be cool.
Terribly Weary
Author: Jared
Date: 05-21-13 15:35
Jared's standing at the window in his bedroom staring at nothing in particular. A light rap on the open door has him turning to look over his shoulder. "Don't worry, Mum, I'm not thinking of jumping."
"Good, because from past experience I know the most likely result will be a broken leg, maybe a few other bones as well. All you'd get for your effort is the rest of the day and a night in St. Mungo's while the Skele-Gro works." Abigail tries to keep a lightness in her voice though she's concerned for her son.
"It would at least be a change of scenery," Jared glumly replies, turning fully from the window.
"We'll have this sorted soon."
"You don't know that, Mum. It's already been a week and a half and the only progress has been getting me released from that Ministry holding cell. I'm on house arrest. I can write off this term for St. Emrys, which puts me even further behind graduating. I have effectively been terminated from my job."
"Being suspended is not the same as being made redundant."
"Parker Matthews who dropped by yesterday said that the rumor is unless I am fully cleared, then yes, I am fired."
"You're going to be fully cleared, Jared."
"Am I, Mum? I don't know this woman. Her name is vaguely familiar and I think we had a class together at St. Emrys, but I don't know her. I never saw her at the Ministry and no one will show me her picture so I can affirm that she is who I think she is. I definitely do not get to know her in the way she's claiming. I am entirely innocent yet here I am days later and I have a solicitor trying to find out more and get a speedy trial date set. I swore under Veritaserum that I not guilty of the charges. I volunteered to let them look at my memories in a Pensieve yet here I am, unable to leave the house without risk of being returned to a holding cell or, worse, sit out the time until the trial at Azkaban. Whatever that woman has said, whatever proof she claims to have, must be pretty damning for my statement under Veritaserum to not have gotten me immediately released and an apology for being wrongly arrested."
"You are innocent so you - we - have to stay positive. Anthony did suggest that the Ministry is working hard to ensure no one can say you were shown favoritism and no real investigation was conducted because of you being engaged to an Auror's sister and that your fiancée is an up and coming Ministry lawyer and their grandfather a well respected solicitor who long worked for the Ministry as well."
"Yes, I know, but as I am innocent, should it really have taken this long to establish that as fact?"
"We all just have to be patient a little longer." Abigail resists the urge to cross the room and hug her son, running her fingers through his hair as she did when he was small. In his present state of mind she thinks a hug would be more reassuring and comforting for her than for him. She does offer him a smile, though a very small one before saying, "I am off on some errands. Is there anything in particular you would like for supper so I know what all to pick up?"
Jared shakes his head. "No, just whatever you make is fine with me or whatever Dad's wanting." He crosses the room then, the one to offer a hug. "Thanks, Mum."
When once again alone, Jared returns to the window to stare out at nothing in particular, unable to settle on whether to be angry, depressed, defeated, or somewhat positive and patient as everyone has told him to be. Sitting down on the window seat all he can determine is that the warring emotions are making him terribly weary.
Looks Like
Author: Ethan Somerset
Date: 05-21-13 17:21
Glancing up at the sky, Ethan briefly wondered if it would snow. The clouds were a whitish-grey and appeared heavy, as if they might burst at any given moment. For his part, Ethan hoped for a light dusting of fluffy snow and fervently wished against anything icier or wetter.
He'd signed up for the morning shift in the village and patrolled High Street for mischief and mayhem, but found none. Maybe the students found it too early for troublemaking, and perhaps any other would-be problems also hadn't yet arisen due to it still being morning. Whatever the case may be, Ethan found his jaunt around the village uneventful at first.
At the bend in the road near the castle gates, Ethan noticed a sale going on at Baby Witch. He peered through the display window and saw adorable raincoats and Wellington boots. He debated going in to pick up something for Lilly, who was spending the morning with Aveline, but changed his mind when he thought he saw someone he recognized in his periphery.
Ethan whirled around to see a short, dark-haired wizard walk past the corner of The Magic Neep and continue on towards High Street. Ethan followed, but found himself caught in the middle of a crowd of students making their way into the village. He craned his neck to keep the short wizard in sight and saw him turn left at the junction, moving past the crowded pub on the corner.
Ethan broke free of the large group of students and picked up his pace. The shorter wizard passed by the bank, the inn, the daycare, and eventually turned left into the alley next to the post office. Ethan followed and saw the man enter The Hog's Head.
Of course, Ethan thought to himself, and swiftly followed the wizard into the pub––
––only to discover he wasn't who Ethan thought he was. The wizard stood at the bar and considered what to order. Although he cut the same figure as Nero Noir, his profile was distinctly different. This wizard had a slightly larger nose, for example.
"Oi! You're blocking the doorway!" exclaimed someone behind Ethan.
He stepped aside and mumbled an apology.
Ethan felt a little ridiculous. He had allowed his imagination to get the better of him. The more he stared at the wizard, who by now had gotten his drink and moved to a table, the more Ethan realized he didn't look a thing like Nero.
He turned and stepped out of the pub, shaking his head as he went back to High Street.
His What?
Author: Desdemona Diamond
Date: 05-21-13 20:54
It had taken me a week, but I think I had located Driver Morgan. Having gone missing since Valentine's Day, Dex came to me looking for help. I hadn't told him about the letter I had received, since I didn't want to worry him, or anyone else.
I had happened upon a report from a muggle hospital about a man named 'Morgan' that matched Driver's description. With that the only real lead I went and followed it up. It wasn't hard to find the place, and I walked up to the receptionist. A young man sat typing at a computer when I walked up to the desk.
"Hi," I said to him, "I'm looking for someone, and I think he may be a patient here."
"Name?"
"His name is Driver Morgan."
The young man typed on his computer and shook his head before saying, "Sorry we don't have any patients by that name."
"Any unidentified ones?"
"One."
"Can I see him?"
The young man sighed, "Ma'am only law enforcement is allowed to see him."
"What about an image, just so I can see if it's him?"
"Let me check…" He picked up his phone and dialed a number. He spent a few minutes on the phone talking with someone before he put it down.
"The doctor said it would be ok. Let me go get his file." He got up and left before I had a chance to say anything. After what seemed like forever, he returned with a file. He opened it, and pulled out a photograph and showed it to me. "Is that him?"
"Yes! That's Driver!" I told him, "What condition is he in?"
"I'm sorry, but only family members are given any medical information about patients."
Before I could think about it, I blurted, "I'm his fiancé."
He gave me a look of disbelief, "You?"
"Yes. There a problem with that?"
"You? Ma'am I'm sorry but-"
"Are you saying that there's something wrong with me?"
"Uhh.. No, I didn't mean that! I mean-"
"What? That I'm not good enough for him?"
"I didn't-"
"He could find someone better? That what you're saying?"
"No I-"
"Then what is it? What's so hard to believe?"
"Let me get my supervisor." He picked up the phone, and dialed. I overheard something about 'angry woman' and 'need help.' He was off the phone moments later, "Ma'am, my supervisor is coming, could you wait over there?" He pointed off to the side, and without an argument, I went to where he pointed. In less than two minutes another man appeared next to the young man. They spoke quietly, looked at Driver's file, and then the young man pointed at me.
The supervisor peered over his glasses at me with a look of doubt on his face. He took the file, and placed it somewhere before walking around over to where I stood.
"Ma'am, I understand that-"
"That you've got my fiancé in a room and you're not letting me see him."
"It's not that-"
"What? That easy to believe that the two of us could be a couple? Are you going to stereotype too?"
"No… I-"
"Are discriminating against me just because I look different? That it?"
"I'm sorry miss. It's not our call to grant you permission to the patient. We'll need to speak to his attending physician."
"Then get 'em."
"Right away." He quickly shot off. While he was gone, I noticed what looked like a security officer discreetly appeared just inside a hall. Apparently I'd scared the two men enough that they had security on hand.
Several minutes went by before the supervisor appeared with an older fellow in scrubs. The doctor walked up, with the supervisor hanging back at a safe distance.
"Miss… I'm sorry, but I don't think anyone caught your name," He started.
"Desi."
"Miss Desi, you claim to be the fiancé of one of our patients."
With an angry sigh I said, "Yes. Driver Morgan. He's an unknown patient here. I was shown an image, and it's him. I'd like to see him, and to know how he's doing."
"Mind if I ask a question or two first?"
"Sure."
"Why aren't either of you wearing rings?"
"He was probably at another fight before ending up here. I've told him to stop many times, but he doesn't…"
"I see… and you?"
"Work. I just came from there."
"Ah, I see. You said he's been fighting?"
"MMA."
"Oh, I see…"
"He did come from one, didn't he? I knew they'd be the death of him…"
"Well, Miss Desi, I think I can allow you to see him. Only for a few minutes."
"Thank you Doctor," I said with a nod. I glanced over towards the desk where the young man and his supervisor shared dumbfounded looks on their faces.
I was led up to a room. On the way the Doctor told me that he'd received several blunt force trauma injuries, ones consistent with some brutal fighting. His most series injuries were three gunshot wounds. He told me that Driver was drifting in and out of consciousness and that aside from saying 'Morgan' most of the rest was gibberish.
We got to the room, and the doctor opened the door to let me in. I walked in, Driver lay on a bed hooked up to an IV and heart monitor. I hurried over to his bed and took a quick look over him. His bruising was mostly gone, the cuts and scrapes had faded to faint images. I couldn't see much because of the blankets keeping him warm.
"What are we going to do with you…" I muttered at him.
(Colin) Saying 'Yes'
Author: Johanna Steele
Date: 05-22-13 06:38
"Isn't this place cozy?" Jenny Gabble asked, installing herself in one of the pillowed chairs of Madam Puddifoot's tea shop.
Colin seated in front of her. The flowery pattern of the table cloth and the little pink sugar bowl on the center of the table were starting to cause him a feeling of nausea. He was convincing himself that if he actually threw up it would be in the form sparkling roses to suit the tackiness of such place.
"I have always wanted to come here with Nathaniel, but now I am glad I didn't. This will be our place now."
The door of the tea shop opened and another couple entered the room. Colin was wondering if it would be someone that might recognize him, but he started to notice everyone seemed too busy making out and holding hands to even notice his presence.
Jenny started to talk about a potion that Snape had asked them to brew in class and how she had so much trouble dealing with it.
"Sometimes I wonder why I decided to continue taking such class. I do like brewing potions but I wouldn't mind if Professor Snape smiled once in a while, you know? Or at least compliment someone for their effort."
Colin had no complaints about Professor Snape at all. He actually didn't mind his distance towards the students and he thought his comments generally directed to the members of the Gryffindor house were hilarious.
A witch came and asked what they wanted to drink. Jenny asked tea for both of them and Colin felt a bit annoyed she just assumed that tea was the drink he wanted. Actually he was feeling more like having coffee, but he decided not to protest.
Since that day at the Great Hall when Jenny had kissed him in front of that young man named Nathaniel Ross that they started to date.
It wasn't really the best relationship ever but dating Jenny suited Colin and he thought she felt the same way. Jenny would help him with homework whenever he needed and she seemed to always know the important things to pay attention to, during class. Colin also enjoyed making out with her even if Jenny would always want to do so in a dark corner of the castle, because as a prefect she felt like giving the example to the other students and she didn't want anyone to catch her kissing a boy.
Colin also knew that Jenny liked to tell all her friends about having a boyfriend and she used to attend to his needs all time like adjusting his tie whenever it was out of place, reminding him to bring his scarf when he had to go to the greenhouses in order to have Herbology, and even offering food between classes because she knew he would be starving by lunch time and she didn't want that.
Jenny was a bit clingy but thank Merlin she found herself busy with her prefect duties as well as the Debate Club and the Hogwarts Pet Society. She tried to get Colin interested in some of those activities but he didn't seem to like any of them so whenever she was busy with that Colin would walk freely around the castle without having her following him around. He was also very glad for the safety of the Slytherin common room, guarded by the portrait whose password of course Jenny didn't know.
The tea arrived and Colin served himself with some sugar, while Jenny mentioned the upcoming match of Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor.
"I hope you will be rooting for Hufflepuff."
"Of course," Colin replied, automatically. He didn't really care who won the match, he was just used to say 'yes' to Jenny.
"I knew you would do so!"
Jenny was about to lean forward and kiss Colin but he took the cup to his lips, before she could do so. She just giggled and started drinking her tea as well.
Pushing the Issue - Mockridge Townhouse to Ravenscrofte Books
Author: Kirley Mockridge
Date: 05-22-13 08:25
Written with Cassandra Catesby
Kirley glared at the empty room. He knew Cass had been avoiding him, and he knew why, thanks to Nephele, but still. It wasn't as if he'd planned any of it and he was finding that the longer it went on, the more annoyed he got. With a slight snarl, he got to his feet and apparated on the spot, appearing just outside the small bookstore in Knockturn Alley. He turned the handle, hoping she hadn't warded the place against him deliberately, and opened the door to step inside.
"Cass?" he called out as he entered.
"I'm about to close up," came the unpromising reply from amongst the bookshelves.
"Then you won't disappear just to avoid me?" he asked, flipping the sign on the door and turning the lock behind him, not to hold her in but to keep others out.
Cassandra came around the end of the shelves and regarded him coolly, one brow raised. "Why should I disappear?" she said. She crossed her arms over her chest. "This is after all my shop. Generally speaking, when I choose to lock up, I do so with everyone else on the other side of the door."
"I was just helping," Kirley said with a hint of a smile. "And because you've been avoiding me. Nephele told me what happened," he added. Looking unaffected, he leaned against the door, relaxed to all appearances.
"I've been busy," Cassandra said coolly. She turned on her heel and walked away.
"You've been hiding. Nephele hasn't given up, Cass. She simply wanted you to be aware of what she was starting to think. And if she's right, would it really be so bad to think that whatever this is between us might be fate?" he called. He didn't follow, he knew better and had no desire to deal with the threats of being transfigured and stuffed into a cat carrier.
"I'm not interested in discussing this with you, Kirley," she said shortly. "I have things to do. I would like you to leave."
"Because I'm not letting you hide?" he asked. "Cass, I'm not giving up on this. Philantha Parkinson was a vindictive cow and it sucks that it's messed with your life, but why, by Merlin, if there's a chance you and I could break it together, are you hiding from me?"
She shot him a furious look over her shoulder. "I will not be manipulated, Kirley Mockridge," she bit out. "Not by you, not by your sister, and not by your bloody ancestors. Do you hear me? I am sick and tired of people messing with my life."
"Where in this am I manipulating you, Cass?" he asked, his voice tightening slightly. "I've been uncomfortably honest with you from the beginning. Whatever it is I feel for you, the curse has nothing to do with. If it breaks the curse, then great, but if not, oh well. And yes, I know that's easy for me to say when I'm not the one cursed, but it's not exactly fun to see you so miserable 3 days out of every month." He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture betraying how much more deeply he felt than he was letting on. "Nephele just wants you to be prepared, because maybe she's right, maybe it does need some fairy-tale aspect to break it. Or maybe she's wrong, it's something she's not ruling out and neither should we."
"Easy for you to say. You're not the one who turns furry every few weeks," she snapped. She reached the counter and began to pile up several books that lay on top. The thump as each one was stacked betrayed her bad mood.
"I know. But still, avoiding me isn't going to make any of it go away," Kirley said, grateful she was stacking books manually and not wielding her wand.
"I was fed up with talking to Mockridges." This was, she knew, more than a little unfair, but she was too irritated to be entirely fair. "I went looking for other answers instead. Different ones."
"And did you find anything or just a whole lot of mumbo-jumbo that meant nothing?" he asked, refusing to take her irritation with his sister personally. He knew she wasn't really angry with him, if she was, he'd be dealing with the business end of her wand by now.
She gave him a narrow-eyed glare. "That attitude is distinctly unhelpful," she said crisply.
"And you'd worry if I acted differently," he commented. "I could come closer and risk my neck, but that would be a decidedly un-Snakely trait."
"You could always get to see what you looked like with scales as well," Cassandra shot back, taking out her wand.
Kirley palmed his own wand, ready with a shield charm. "I could. Or you could remember that you aren't really angry with me, but with a woman who has been dead for generations," he said, studying her carefully. "You're not even really mad at Nephele, though you might not like what she said. She's at least being up front with you as well."
She made a frustrated sound and slammed the wand down on the counter. "Fine," she said. "No scales. This time."
"I won't deny that Philantha Parkinson was a crazy old bint, but in case you hadn't noticed, that tends to run in my family. You've met Mother, so if you're going to get mad at me because the women in my life are barking mad, I should probably know now," he said, his wand slipping back into the sheath he carried in his sleeve. It wasn't standard issue, but he found it useful.
"It depends on what the barking mad women are doing," Cassandra retorted. Then gave a small sigh. Her ire ebbed. "Fine, fine, I'm being unreasonable."
Picking up her wand again, she flicked it towards the concealed door that led up to her flat above the shop. The lock clicked and the door swung open. "Since I apparently can't get rid of you, do you want some tea?"
"That would be lovely," he answered. "And here I thought you were starting to like me slithering about," he added, a teasing note slipping into his voice.
She gave him a look; half reluctant amusement, half lingering irritation. "Don't push your luck," she said. He just grinned, a hint of boyish charm shining through.
"You know you'd be bored without me around to annoy you."
Cassandra gave a soft humph and turned, heading up the stairs to her flat. A soft mew greeted her. Malantha jumped down from the armchair she had been curled in to wind about her ankles and then gave made an inquisitive noise at Kirley. The black cat padded over towards him.
Kirley bent down, waiting to see if Malantha harbored ill feelings about her trip in the cat carrier. He reached out, but didn't touch. "Your flat suits you," he said, looking up to Cass.
Malantha whisked her tail across his palm. Cassandra studied her feline companion for a second, then shrugged.
"Great-Aunt Morwenna was of a similar persuasion. Some of the things were hers originally," she said. Blue flames ignited in the fireplace with a flick of her wand and she hung the old iron kettle on the hook above them.
"Makes sense. Merlin knows we have enough antiques around the Mockridge homes, though the Townhouse is possibly the least inundated. I've managed to stick most of them in the Manor, in those wonderful, unused rooms," Kirley said.
"Like the Castle," she agreed. "Fortunately, this place isn't on the same kind of scale." The flat was cosy rather than imposing. Lots of well-filled bookshelves full of well-thumbed volumes, over-stuffed armchairs with plump cushions, and assorted objects Cassandra and her Great-Aunt had picked up on their travels.
"That's part of why we chose the Townhouse. It's roomy enough that Nephele, Valeria and I aren't tripping over each other, it gets us away from Mother, and at the same time, it's close enough that we can spend time together too," Kirley said. An object caught his attention and he wandered over. "This won't do anything horrid if I touch it, will it?"
She turned to see what he was looking at, then gave a soft laugh and shook her head. "No, it won't," she said. "It's not like Gobstones." She went over to join him. "It's an enchanted Senet board; the Muggles have a version too, but the pieces of this one are more like those of Wizard Chess. I picked it up when I was in Cairo once."
"Interesting. I don't think I've played Senet before," he said, lifting up one of the pieces. "And Gobstones are nasty, I don't know what anyone past the age of twelve sees in them. Valeria refused to touch them after she turned five."
"It appeals to the juvenile in some people, I guess. Personally, I think it's a nasty, smelly game. I never did see the attraction," Cassandra said.
"It must. Exploding Snap is bad enough, though at least that only singed off eyebrows and was easy enough to clean up. The other was just gross," he agreed. He reached out and touched her wrist, his hand brushing against hers as he put the Senet piece down.
The brief touch made her skin tingle, nerve-endings shocked into life. She caught a small, involuntary breath. His fingers circled around, tugging her toward him slightly. "Is this the part when I admit I was grumpy that you were avoiding me and that I missed you?" he asked softly.
Their eyes met. "I don't know," she replied, equally softly. "Is it?"
"It might be," he murmured, reaching up to brush her cheek with his fingers. "I was grumpy enough that Nephele threatened to hex me at Parent's Day," he murmured.
Cassandra's lips twitched just a fraction. "That bad, huh?" she murmured teasingly. Her head tilted a little into his fingers.
"Apparently, Valeria was ready to help her," he murmured before he bent his head. "If you're going to hex me for this, a little warning might be nice," he added with a teasing grin before his lips brushed hers.
Her soft laugh dissolved as he kissed her. She reached up to rest her hand on his shoulder. "Not this time," she murmured back.