Author's Note: This story was formally called "Something Harry Potterish." I just recently realized that the story had gotten completely away from me, so I am rewritting it under this title. I don't know if I will repost up the older version of it- I kinda hate it... alot...
Bobby Duncan was a witch.
Not that the muggles in the market in which she walked could tell. She looked and moved with a practiced air of ordinariness, appearing to be shopping for foodstuffs just like they were. Her sundress was plain and unremarkable, except that it was the perfect shade of green to set off her fiery hair. What she pulled off the shelves could not be deemed peculiar, even if the muggles were looking.
No, Bobby Duncan blended in as if she was a muggle herself. Part of that was helped by the fact that her own mother was a muggle; the other from the fact that she had been raised as a muggle would have been raised.
She paused in the refrigerated section of the store, soaking in the cold. It was hot for May, it was the middle of the day, and she had walked her way down the street to shop. All of these things added up to her questioning whether or not she should risk buying milk or cheese, two foods she was desperately short of in her pantry. If she had driven then the question would not have been so precarious, but the walk had taken her almost ten minutes. It would take her longer burdened with food.
Bobby's icy blue eyes left the milk and glanced at the woman just a few feet down from her. She looked even more tired and worn than Bobby felt, but she was placing items in her cart with the desperate energy only mothers seemed to have, the kind that was limitless when it concerned their kids. The mother was trying to finish her errand before the sleeping boy in her cart woke up.
The witch wondered if the woman knew that her son was sick. If she didn't, then she would certainly be in for a surprise when he woke up and showed her in the checkout lane.
Bobby really hoped she was wrong, and she really hoped that she would already be out of the store when it happened. On a mild day, that smell would have been absolutely unbearable- she did not want to know how bad it was on a hot day like today.
The Sight ran in Bobby's family, and so she had a touch of it. It came to her in feelings and thoughts instead of visions and dreams like in the faerie tales and fantasy novels she had read when she was younger, and thank goodness because she would not have been able to stand it. Her elder brother had the Sight in spades and it made him uncomfortably uncanny. He rarely spoke because of it, as if he was not sure that what he knew was because of the Sight or his own knowledge. She didn't know how he lived with it.
Bobby turned away from the milk and reluctantly made her way out of the refrigerated aisles. She didn't want to take an unnecessary chance, and she could wait another day or two until the heat wave ended. She made her way immediately to the checkout lanes.
All of the lines were long, so she didn't even bother considering any of the others but the nearest one. She felt the mother of the sleeping boy settle herself just at her heel, and Bobby's skin prickled nervously.
Bobby was nothing if not polite so she resisted the urge to sigh. She did not, however, waste any time putting what little was in her shopping basket onto the belt, determined to get out of the store as quickly as possible.
The clerk mumbled some sort of greeting to the person just in front of her, catching her attention. He was a handsome looking thing, if she was any judge of men at all, despite the fact that he had to be nearly ten years junior to her 29 years. His flyaway hair was a true black and anything but neat, a style that seemed to be in among the younger generation. His green eyes dully watched the items he rang in. She wanted to peer closer into those eyes to learn their secrets, and they did have them to spare- she could tell.
Instead, Bobby made herself look out the window to watch the London traffic pass by on the road. Insane people were out walking and window shopping despite the heat. She allowed herself to smile wryly; she had come out herself after all, but even she was not mad enough to remain out and about for longer than she could help it.
She glanced at her watch, noting the time for just a moment, and when she looked up she found that the clerk was staring at her. Bobby was held in his gaze for a few moment, noticing that the glasses on his nose were in need of replacing. They weren't broken, but they were definitely old.
The next thing she noticed was the look on his face. His skin was pale and he seemed profoundly ruffled, as if he had never seen her like. She felt one of her eyebrows raise, but she wasn't sure if it was because she was puzzled by the intensity of the look in his eyes or if was because of the sudden feeling that she knew him passed through her.
The moment was broken by her gaze being taken elsewhere- to his forehead- and suddenly his head bowed. Without a word, he rang up her order, managed to bag it all in one bag, took her money, and gave her the change. He kept his face turned away, obviously trying not to look at her but Bobby studied him even though she knew it was rude. That scar on his forehead.
Strange.
A moment later, Bobby forced herself to gather her things and move out of the way. She paused near the entrance, suddenly wary of the fact that she would be stepping out into the odd warmth of the day. If this was how the rest of spring was going to be, then she was definitely not looking forward to summer.
A sudden commotion behind her made her turn. The sleeping boy in the cart was awake and currently vomiting up his breakfast. Luckily, it had missed the cart and his mother and the patron in line behind them, and had mercifully ended up on the floor. Employees flocked like ants to help clean it up.
Bobby passed through the door before the smell could find her.