My eyes land on a familiar girl. She's about thirteen, and bears loose black curls that cascade down her back like a waterfall. Her eyes are a normal blue, but they're desolate and empty. I've seen her around a lot, like she's a magnet to my vision. I've only ever spoken to her once, when she was buying a cone for a younger girl, probably her sister. She was quite rude. As I see her strut around Gramps's shop, I think that she hasn't noticed I'm here yet.

But then she does. She blanches, and leaves the shop at once. I know she was looking for someone with their wallet in plain view, because I've seen her pickpocketing outside my store. She's like a sparrow, flitting in and out of the crowd, snatching up coins and sprinting away from the unsuspecting owners. A sparrow girl.

I sigh, hand over my shift to my coworker, Lee, and go into the back room, where Gramps is avidly writing up HELP WANTED flyers.

There's a bronze plaque above his desk that reads Florean Fortescue: The best ice cream in all the Alleys since 1938! Papers are strewn all over his desk. He's tall and spindly, like Dad, and his eyes are going a bit foggy, which is why he doesn't work behind the counter anymore.

"Find anyone yet, Gramps?" I ask. The only people who work right now are Lee and me. We need more scoopers and cashiers.

"No," he mutters. "You'd think that Potter would find me a good, steady employee. There was a reason I gave 'im all those cones back in the day, y'know. Dunno why you wouldn't want t' work here...eh, Jasper, m'boy? Good customers, good benefits, good two Sickles a day." Gramps laughs. "They're wanting more, these selfish young people...Galleons, trinkets, the likes..."

"You're stressed," I remark. "C'mon, I'll take you to the front. Lee will fix you a coffee of some sort."

"D'we sell coffee?"

"Yeah, Gramps. We started after those ladies got on our case, remember? And we make more money because of it."

"Money, schmoney," he says as I lead him to a table. "This is an ice cream shop."

I ignore this remark, and wave to Lee. "Oi! Can you get him a coffee?" Lee nods from his position at the cash register, where he's talking to a pretty, tanned girl with a dark ponytail and a winsome smile. He told me her name is Alicia, and she comes around a lot. Gramps doesn't like her. She never buys anything.

"What's she doing?" he asks now. At first, I think he's talking about Alicia, but then I realise he's pointing at the corner of the shop, where the sparrow girl has just slipped a Sickle off of Mrs. Lorrimer's table. She's making her way towards a table where a studious bloke is distracted by his newspaper and won't notice her swiping his wallet. "Bring her to my office, kid," Gramps growls. He looks like my Dad when he's angry. My parents are magical researchers, and they're currently in Ireland. I don't see them often, but it's not a big deal. We don't have much to talk about.

I walk over to the girl, who doesn't see me until I tap her on the shoulder.

"What do you want?" she asks defensively, glaring at me.

"Uh—erm—my grandfather wants to see you in his office."

"Well, he doesn't own me, does he?" she sneers.

"He saw you..." I motion swiping an invisible coin off of a table. Her eyes widen and dart between the windows and the door.

"You shouldn't leave until you've talked to him, really—"

"Bugger off!" the sparrow girl shouts suddenly. "I don't want to snog you, so stop asking!" Everyone in the shop hears her, of course, and she immediately sprints out the door. Gramps motions for me to go after her, but I don't want to.

No, I definitely don't want to.

Okay, so maybe I'm a bit afraid of her. After all, that kid—her sister?—said she was a bright person. And I don't do well with smartness. I like to be in my element, I like to be better than people at something. That's why I don't take Herbology anymore and I don't talk to unfamiliar Ravenclaw girls like the rest of my mates. And that is why I work in an ice cream shop. Not much you can do wrong there, right?

I tell Gramps very loudly—so loud the entire store can hear me—that I don't know what came over her, I wasn't even asking to snog her. Business doesn't do well when your customers think you're a sexual predator. Lee apologises quickly to Alicia and dashs out the door. Well, then. I hope he gets humiliated, too. But just in the middle of Diagon Alley instead of in an ice cream shop where there aren't many gossips.

I'm assuming he doesn't, though, because he drags the sparrow girl back into the shop a moment later. She looks like a deer in headlights. Her dark curls are disheveled and she's missing a boot. But most of all, she looks ashamed. Humiliated. Not exactly sorry for stealing, but sorry she got caught.

Her countenance is impassive by the time we force her into Gramps's office.

"Name," Gramps growls. Yeah, he's cool and all, but I'm glad I'm not on his bad side.

"Jane Dursley," she replies readily. He raises his wand a centimeter higher.

"Try again."

"I—I—"

"Gimme your real name and I won't report you to that big watchman out there. And I'll be checking with that little kid I saw waving t'you. Don't think I won't be."

"She won't tell you," the sparrow girl says mockingly.

"Yeah? Well, looks like 'm writing up a report to M. Cadwallader, aren't I?"

Finally, the girl looks defeated. Her eyes are desperate. It's like the one thing she needs is for that report not to reach the watchman.

"I'll tell you!" she bursts out, watching Gramps's quill warily. "Bright."

She's looking at the window, and Gramps looks miffed.

"I know it's sunny today, girl, but I haven't got all the time in the world," he huffs.

"No, 'Bright' is my name."

"Surname?"

"Quigley."

"Ah, are you related to Finbar Quigley, then? Yessir, I was a supporter of the Ballycastle Bats back in the day. I played Beater, just like good old Quigs." Gramps seems to have forgotten interrogating her. "Remember feeling quite crushed when he kicked the bucket, just like that. My idol, y'know? What was it again, Jasper? A heart attack?"

I don't answer. The sparrow girl—Bright—is looking at my grandfather incredulously. Her entire body is quivering like a leaf. She seems to be rendered speechless, but suddenly I'm proved wrong.

"It wasn't a heart attack," she says simply. "May I go now, Mr. Fortescue?"

She reminds me of my best friend, Trudy, politely trying to escape detention.

"I was going to offer you a job," Gramps says.

My jaw hits the floor.

A/N: A brief Jasper chapter. I'm not proud of it, and I hate writing from his POV, but I guess I needed to introduce him, right? It'll probably be mostly from Bright's POV from now on, with little intervals from more minor characters. Said best friend named Trudy will be further explained later on. I got my first review today, so that should be recorded in history or whatever. Soo...yeah. Dunno if anyone's actually reading this, but if you are you should review because I will love you for the rest of your life and that is DEFINITELY not in a creepy way.