*There's some very mild swearing in this update, nothing I feel the need to change the rating for, but I figured I'd warn you just in case…

vballmania23- thanks for reviewing! It's always great to get that first review, especially five minutes after posting. Yay you!

Do Not Enter

July1994 ~ London

(Ginny's POV)

I couldn't believe that my mother had agreed to let me go shopping with Hermione in Muggle London. Sure, I wasn't exactly shopping, per se, as shopping required money, which is something I never have much of, but it was fun to look around, people watch, and spend time with my friend without Ron and Harry around. When it's just the two of us, I feel as though she and I were actually friends, instead of just being a tag-along with the Golden Trio.

Mrs. Granger, arms laden with clothing, decided that Hermione needed to try on every single article before purchase, so in lieu of sitting in a chair outside a fitting room, mumbling 'yeah, that looks good' without ever raising my eyes for the next hour and half, I decided to wander around the plaza, making a solemn vow to Hermione to not 'wander too far' or 'get in any trouble.'

Trouble, however, seems to have a way of finding me, whether I avoid it or not.

I was walking past the food court when I noticed another of those doors that seems to go nowhere. It wasn't the entrance to a shoppe, it wasn't labeled… it wasn't locked.

I opened the door, just a crack, and peered inside. The lighting was dim, barely illuminating the long hallway that seemed to lead nowhere. The walls were rough paneling, looking for all the world like a house half built. I guess they weren't intending it to be on public display. I was about to pull my head back, let the door close, when the sound of muffled voices drew my attention. One of the voices sounded calm, but angry, while the other sounded buoyant and… vaguely familiar. I flatten myself as close to the wall as I can, staying out of the vague lighting. I start to creep towards the source of the noise but before I can get far I hear the door I just past through open again. I duck into a dark corner and hold my breath, watching as a totally humorless looking woman stalks by. She's wearing a shapeless suit, as grey as wash water, and is carrying some sort of briefcase. If she's aware of my presence, she makes no notice of it, and I feel sure she's heading the same place I am, so naturally I do what any other curious feline would do.

I follow her.

(Griffin's POV)

I know this guy can't be alone. Paladins always travel in pairs, if not more. This arsehole must be new; I'm baiting him, and he's letting me. What I'm really doing is stalling, waiting for the other to show up. I don't want to engage until I know exactly what I'm up against. I keep jumping, in front of him, behind him, again and again. He's trying to maintain his composure, and if it were anyone else, he'd have them fooled, but it's me.

And I'm nobody's fool.

In my peripheral vision I see her, rounding the corner, cable gun already in hand. This one knows what she's doing. This one I recognize. I adjust my grip on the baseball bat I hold in my hand, rolling slightly on the balls of my feet. She doesn't even bother with the usual spiel about God and power. Her briefcase drops as she takes aim and I jump, barely missing the cable that juts towards me, twitching with electricity. Now that she's here the other guy seems way more confident, and he joins her in taking shots at me, missed hits singeing everything in the narrow corridor. I jump out of the way of a cable shot from the man, and right into the path of a hit from her. My eyes widen, disbelieving, as I look past the cable flying towards me, my vision locking not on the Paladin, but behind her, at the red-headed girl with a stick in her hand and a fury in her eyes.

Stupefy.

I don't know why, or how it happened, but in a flash of red light the Paladin went sailing down the hallway, gun clattering to the floor, her body hitting the wall with a loud thump. Quick as a flash she turned towards the other Paladin, who had already dropped his weapon and was staring in shock at the girl who was brandishing her stick in his face like a wand.

A wand. Sure. Anything that unbelievable must be true. Shite, look at me.

"We ok here?" Her question is for me, but her eyes never leave the man cowering in front of her. I can't help but laugh a bit at the surreality of the situation. "Yeah," I reply, "just give me a second." I grab the Paladin and jump, dumping him off on the top of Mt. Kilimanjaro, then jump back. I pick up the dropped weapons and pocket them before turning back towards the girl, who smirks back at me knowingly as she sheathes her wand.

"Friends of yours?"

I shake my head, sobering. "Paladins are friends to no one, love." "Well, then," she muses, "I guess you're lucky witches are." Of course, that's what she is, a witch, but still, it's strange to hear her say it, all nonchalant, like it's no big thing. "I can handle myself," I shrug, not acknowledging her well-timed assistance, "I have been for a long time." She rolls her eyes, not convinced. "Well, what do we do about…?" When she trails off I turn, letting my eyes follow the path of hers, to the place on the floor where the fallen Paladin woman was laying.

Was. Not anymore. Shite.

Sometime during our brief exchange she had regained consciousness and slipped away. Suddenly, the realization of our situation seemed to kick in, and she began to look nervous. "Look," she started, chewing on her lip, "I just broke about ten laws in the past two minutes. I don't wanna press my luck. I need to get back to my friend- pronto." I take her hand and ask her where her friend is. "Desigual, the women's fitting room." Before she can blink we're standing by the seats in the waiting area of the shoppe's fitting rooms. I take the tips of her fingers in my hand and gallantly help her to her seat. She looks up at me a bit coyly and smiles, pressing my hand gently before withdrawing hers. "See you around, Griff." I frown at her severely, but I can tell by her giggles that she's not very intimidated. "Don't call me Griff, Ginevra." Her brow furrows in turn, but her slight blush is telltale that she's happy I remembered her name. "It's Ginny," she grounds out, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Well, then, Ginny," I lean towards her, dropping my face close to hers to whisper before jumping, "thanks."