||_Author's Foreword_||

TRIGGER WARNINGS: gore, language, terror, violence

There is an ambiguous statement by J.K. Rowling on Arabella Figg's ability to see a dementor. Since there is not a clear contradiction, however, I will assume that squibs are capable of seeing and accessing magical locations due to magical blood markers.

I've written a lengthy plot outline, which is practically a book in and of itself, and I'm super excited for some of the scenes I have lined up. However, what I *haven't* completely decided on yet is which canon Harry Potter characters I want to bring in first or at all. It will take some time to encounter them in a believable way, but I'd love to hear any thoughts or suggestions you may have (I'm open to all time periods, as well)!


~ Three ~
Of Terror & Tabloids


I'm an idiot, thought Lex bitterly as she squeezed the coarse ridges of the beautiful birchwood Jonkers wand into her palm, her knuckles blanching white beneath her grip.

Rejection always stung, but getting thrown across the room and then knocked on the head by some unattainable magical sticks really twisted that knife in deeper and drove the point home. Salt in the wound… Insult to injury…

Ugh. Truly, this was not her proudest moment. Lex usually prided herself on maintaining a firm, yet flexible grip on logic, and weighing her emotions objectively against what was reasonable. She may prefer the spontaneity of thinking on her feet to tedious planning sessions, but the keyword of the phrase was thinking.

What had she been thinking? Wands weren't even on today's agenda! If you want to get caught, what better place to advertise your magical deficiencies than a wand shop? Honestly, really - what the exquisitely-framed rubber duck!

"Lex, are you a squib?" Jeremiah asked, whispering the word "squib," as if the label were some sort of death sentence.

Luckily, Lex was about 95 percent sure that being a squib, the non-magical offspring of magical folk, was not a death sentence, as squibs were neither terminally-ill nor sentenced to death for merely existing. She was about 85 percent sure attempts to acquire a wand didn't result in immediate death for squibs… about 50 percent sure it wouldn't result in penalizing arrest…

Okay, seriously. I'm an idiot, and these numbers aren't helping, she thought furiously.

Jeremiah's dusty black dress shoes clacked against the wooden floorboards as he slowly closed the distance between them. Seconds later, the clacking stopped, and his tall lean body loomed overhead. As he crouched into a sitting position and matched his eye level to hers, Lex broke from her morose contemplation. She realized that her right hand was now almost numb from its tight grip on the birchwood wand and that she still hadn't answered the young wandmaker's question.

Staring into Jeremiah's cold silvery eyes, which seemed paradoxically warm at the moment, she answered brokenly, "I don't know. I don't know what I am… I thought maybe… I thought…"

Again, what had she thought? Her best answer was that she hadn't been thinking at all. Her better question was what had she been feeling? Far too much, unfortunately, far too much.

Desperation clawed at her insides like a caged animal. This animal was starving and hungry. She'd ridden the miserable train of cynicism and apathy to the brink of death and nearly plunged over that ragged cliff into the darkness beyond. Now someone was dangling a juicy steak in front of her metaphorical cage, and she was relearning what it meant to achingly crave, to dream, to desire.

It had been so long since she'd felt the sparks of hope or passion or faith. Clearly, yet perhaps predictably, she had underestimated the emotional effects of nearly dying, reviving, and discovering a previously-non-existent fantasy world… Really, how would someone prepare for a revival like that anyway? There was no doubt in Lex's mind - she needed to reassert some self-discipline immediately, and she would begin by resisting her urgent, pressing need to face-palm.

"I'm a squib too," Jeremiah said softly, without a trace of his usual mockery or sarcasm.

His brow furrowed slightly, and his eyes glimmered as he scrutinized her face. He eyed her anxiously, as if she were a fragile porcelain doll in danger of spontaneously shattering.

Lex didn't like it one bit. Jeremiah was supposed to be rude and sardonic. Yes, he was obviously quite kind and helpful in action, but he and his caustic remarks hadn't balked before at her bruise-riddled face. Why would he pity her now? Was being a squib so terrible?

"I don't understand… I've been feeling so… different lately. I've changed," she muttered insistently, eyes searching Jeremiah's for answers, "I thought maybe I'm just a - just a late-bloomer."

Jeremiah laughed darkly, scrunching his face into a pained smile, "Ah, yes. The mythical 'late-bloomer.' Let me know if you ever find one! You have a better chance of finding a Hidebehind in total darkness than that squib fairy-tale."

Lex hadn't found any textual information on Hidebehinds yet, but both the name and, thus, Jeremiah's analogy seemed pretty straightforward. She assumed it was a creature that liked to hide. It liked to hide behind things… Yes.

"Wait," she started abruptly, the irony dawning on her, "You're a squib. And you work in a wand shop? Isn't that a little…"

"Yes. Thank you, Lex. I am quite aware of the irony," he stated dryly, "As I suppose you already know, being a squib doesn't exactly leave you with a wealth of job opportunities."

He rolled his eyes lazily, before narrowing them into a mocking glare. For the first time, Jeremiah appeared to genuinely relax around her, a friendly smile upon his lips. Even better was the welcome return of his sass, which Lex greeted with extreme pleasure by promptly responding in kind.

"So, you can't perform magic or use a wand, and naturally the job of choice is to surround yourself with wands all day, help a bunch of entitled magicals with their wands, and generally just draw attention to the fact that you're a squib?"

Jeremiah snorted, then retorted, mockingly imitating Lex's intonation, "So, you can't perform magic or use a wand, and naturally your pastime of choice is to get drenched on rainy weekend mornings, submit yourself to abuse by wand, and generally just draw attention to the fact that you're a squib?"

"Touché, sir," Lex chuckled.

The magicless pair grinned at each other for a long moment. Jeremiah's black robes hung loosely about his shoulders, brushing the floor, and his skinny mauve tie knocked against his knees as he laughed in return. The magical tie's tacky pattern of miniature, cartoon wands danced about the cloth in a dizzying motion, and a loose swath of copper hair lay wrapped around his pale neck.

Lex hadn't spent much time around wizards, of course, but she imagined Jeremiah's appearance to be the quintessential image of "wizard casual." He was the first person she'd met since she'd accepted the existence of the wizarding world, after all. Silly details like his wizard robes or his medieval-esque hairstyle would most likely seem dull or commonplace to magicals, but she relished the enchanting novelty of every mysterious, new, cultural aspect he presented. Yes, she could definitely get used to this.

Finally, feeling considerably enlivened, Lex stood and shifted the birchwood wand to her left hand, before offering her right to assist the still-crouching, confused-looking Jeremiah. His manners were, fortunately, not so medieval-esque as to refuse help from a woman. Thus, after eyeing her with a thoughtful smirk, he grasped her hand tightly, and she helped hoist him to his feet.

In hindsight, Lex was glad that she had misadventured into Jonker's Wandcraftery. Perhaps there really was some value in trusting her gut and putting a bit of faith in magic to guide her after all. Before her run-in with that speeding Ferrari, she had allowed herself to become so isolated that she'd nearly forgotten what it felt like to truly connect and enjoy another's company.

Admittedly, it was quite pathetic that it had taken a near-death experience to free her from the rut of depression into which she'd fallen, and it was quite possibly unfair that she was dangerously choosing to interact with magical people, who may never know her true identity, rather than her loyal no-maj friends like Will. However, without adequate proof of magic, her no-maj friends would only try to take her back to the "normal" and "sane." People like Jeremiah, on the other hand, would help her to embrace the intoxicating insanity that was magic.

As her quirkiness and affection finally bubbled over, Lex titled her face upwards, fixed Jeremiah with a goofy grin, and asked gleefully, "Did we just become friends?"

After a momentary look of surprise, he chortled, "Ha! I suppose we did. You certainly could use a friend to help you stay out of trouble… and stay healthy… and stay… dry."

Now, it was Lex's turn to roll her eyes. She gave an exaggerated scoff and scowled at Jeremiah, though an insistent smile quickly crept back onto her face.

"Awesome," she said simply but never more sincerely.

As the conversation lulled into an amicable silence, Lex absently rubbed her lower back, where it had hit the wooden display platform mere moments ago. She was pleasantly surprised to find none of the tell-tale soreness that precedes a bruise.

Perhaps that bruise-healing potion endowed the drinker with lingering regenerative effects. Hm. That would certainly make sense from a pharmacological standpoint. It would take some time for her body to fully metabolize the drug…

Spying the two display wands, which had rolled to rest unceremoniously between two respective cracks in the floorboards, Lex hurriedly bent to pick them up and return them to their rightful pedestal. She was surprisingly satisfied with the results of her magical mishappenings thus far, and decided not to press her luck - or Jeremiah's unexpected generosity.

I'm still an idiot, but I'm a lucky idiot, she thought humorously, That's gotta count for something, right?

Turning to face Jeremiah, she walked slowly backwards, finally pausing in front of the front door.

"Well, dear friend, Jeremiah, I should probably get going. Chores and all… I'll do my best to stay healthy and dry without your much-needed assistance."

"Yes, well, you always -" he began, as the front door swung abruptly open and into her face, yielding a single resounding slap amidst the mocking jingles of the little doorbells hanging overhead.

"Oof!"

Okay, I take it back, universe. I am, indeed, an unlucky idiot. My bad, Lex mentally amended.

As the door slammed back into its frame, a burly bearded man stepped into Jonker's Wandcraftery. The man gave her one contemptuous glance, before turning his beady eyes towards Jeremiah. A series of vicious claw marks dug deep, pink gashes into his dark skin, the scars starting at his right temple, tracing across his strong jaw, and eventually disappearing behind a mass of neat dreadlocks. A heavy, leather cloak fell to his knee-high boots, but his rippling muscles were still apparent beneath the bulk. Under the circumstances, he was the sort of man you should be glad to have spare you only a single glance.

"I need to buy me some spare wands," he drawled in a voice thick and husky, "Two or three should do."

Jeremiah crossed his arms, glancing back and forth from Lex to the man, an expression of mixed shock and indignation on his face.

"Excuse me -" he began, with an angry scoff.

Is he really going to confront this guy? thought Lex in amazement.

Lex hated to leave Jeremiah with the intimidating man, but she definitely didn't need him getting into an argument oh her behalf. Before he could say anything else to provoke the man, she shouted a hasty See you later! and dashed out the front door.

Approximately forty-three feet down the street from Jonker's Wandcraftery, Lex slowed from her brisk jog to a pleasant, leisurely pace. Directly ahead, the colorful bricks and stones of the street appeared to flow apart, dividing themselves into a river of shiny, metallic plates and golden brick to the left, and smooth, rune-covered, obsidian stone to the right.

Lex surveyed the rooftops in either direction, hoping to glean some information on where each path led. However, The Inside Out wasn't a place for street signs or directions. It was a place for navigating simply by one's desires. Thus, Lex pushed the morning's events out of her mind and decided it was probably best to figure out what her desires actually were, before continuing on her renewed shopping quest. She'd tested her luck enough for one day.

So, now I'm a squib, Lex mused as she paused beside a painted, steel bench along the near wall.

She slid down onto the bench and rested her head against the russet bricks of the wall behind her. Then, she allowed her eyes to glaze over in preparation for a much-needed brainstorm session. Yes, Lex was an expert at daydreaming. A proper disconnect from reality takes practice and dedication and, oh, Lex had certainly put in the time…

How could I be a squib? As much as I may wish it sometimes, I'm not adopted, and aren't squibs always part of magical families? Lex thought, her practiced dreamy expression wrinkling in confusion as she puzzled over the problem, You'd think MACUSA would have noticed long ago if it were possible for random squibs to pop up and discover the magical world all out of the blue!

Furthermore, Lex was fairly certain that she'd been through the city's historical sector, which housed The Inside Out, at least once or twice before. Perhaps she hadn't paid much attention or bothered to memorize the basic layout during these visits, but, surely, she would've remembered a bunch of magical buildings peeking out of surprise alleyways… right?

Plus, her research had pointed to magical activity occurring all across town, not just at The Inside Out. If she had always been a squib, she would have noticed something magical at some point over the years, surely. No, there was simply no way that she had always been a squib. Something had changed… but what?

The first occurrence of the "magic" phenomenon, at least as far as she knew, was the opportune appearance of The Bloody Banshee after she had wandered away from the hospital. The hospital workers had called her recovery a "miracle," so Lex supposed that her miraculous recovery might have been a magical occurrence as well. However, she had no firsthand knowledge to support such an assumption, and Lex thought people used the term "miracle" much too liberally anyway.

Thus, her best estimate of the onset of her "squibness," as she was calling it, would be sometime between the morning of October 13th, her birthday and near-death-day, and the afternoon of October 21st, the day she was released from the hospital. Clearly, something out of the ordinary had transpired, so she thought it best to list any unusual observations or events, which had occurred during that specific time frame.

There was nothing magical about the coffee shop visit or her mishandled coffee order - that much was certain. Moving along, Ferraris were kind of magical, but hit-and-runs were not so much… And, even her science-fiction-addled brain wasn't buying the "car crash unlocked new parts of my brain" theory. She seriously questioned the integrity of any universe in which brain damage was suddenly advisable.

Lex was discarding any "squibness" explanations that involved the exposure of other non-magicals to magic. While it was quite possible that there were other newfound squibs running around, Lex felt that the fact that she hadn't been caught yet was proof enough against that particular hypothesis. Because, please - what were the chances that a bunch of no-maj discovered magic all at the same time and nothing made it onto the internet? Seriously. Not even a Facebook post. She had no doubt that if there were others, they would have all been tweeting their way to the Auror office by now.

Over the course of that fateful birthday week, the only isolated incidents, in which no one but Lex herself was affected, occurred at the dreary hospital. Thankfully, the universe had finally revealed a benefit to the mind-boggling dullness that had pervaded Lex's week-long hospital stay. Well, other than not dying, of course - that had been highly beneficial.

Anyway, there were only three unusual and, thus, interesting observations she had made over the cour week. Firstly, there was the framed stock photo of a beagle staring at a dandelion. Secondly, there was the odd positioning of the television set, because, honestly, why squeeze a TV into a corner from which there is not a single decent angle of visibility? And, thirdly, there was Dr. Goldstein and his creepy blood transfusion.

Hmm. That beagle was super suspicious, but, really, I think I'm leaning towards Dr. Goldstein as the culprit on this one, Lex, she thought mockingly in the third person, Dr. Goldstein with the blood in the beagle room…

Yes, it was definitely odd that her doctor had used his own blood in her exchange transfusion. Was that even legal? Lex stuffed a hand into her jacket pocket and almost pulled out her cellphone but quickly thought better of it. There was no reason to advertise her no-maj tendencies anymore than she already had. She'd simply have to wait and research these blood matters online later…

Blood matters.

An image of the second floor sign at Flourish & Fontaine flashed through Lex's memory. Adjacent to the shelves of the "No-Maj Relations" section at Flourish & Fontaine was the "Blood Matters" section, which held all sorts of archived genealogical materials, as well as several authoritative works on the purity of magical blood.

There seemed to be a debate amongst witches and wizards, as to the effects of "quality" in-breeding on magical inheritance. Lex might have reserved judgment on the unfamiliar topic had the arguments for pure-blood supremacy not bled over into the issues of no-maj relations. Pure-blood supremacists seemed to regard non-magicals as lower than mud, and Lex, frankly, didn't care how much genetics might have backed up their arguments, because their bigoted in-bred attitudes were entirely unacceptable, thank you very much.

However, what if blood really did matter? The more Lex contemplated Dr. Goldstein and his strange "donation" to her cause, the more certain she became that his blood was the source of her "squibness." She had no idea if he was a wizard or a squib himself, but she made a quick mental note to search through the wizard genealogy books she had photographed for any Goldstein family references.

As if the hand of Goldstein had suddenly parted the dome-shaped skies and released a bolt of lightning upon her head, Lex was immediately struck with the frightening realization that if her "squibness" was, indeed, the product of a blood transfusion, then her abilities were entirely temporary. Dr. Goldstein had revealed in one of his obnoxious, self-serving jokes that Lex's own blood would replace Goldstein's in approximately a month.

Now, like some sick twisted countdown hourglass, her body was slowly pumping new non-magical blood into her circulatory system, while the magical blood cells filtered out and died. Continuing the gory metaphor, she could imagine bloody grains of sand pouring heedlessly down into the lower half of her hourglass figure. Worse still, the bloody metaphorical hourglass would pronounce that her first week had already been used up. Shit.

Lex jumped to her feet, suddenly very anxious to move her plans along. Three more weeks of squibness simply wasn't enough. Lex was convinced that no time limit would ever be "enough," for she adamantly refused to be trapped in a non-magical world ever again.

Unable to contain her restlessness, she propelled herself quickly down the shiny, metallic street on the left, her body seemingly taking on a mind of its own. Her anxiety soon reached a startling intensity, her heart thumping a steady beat against her chest, as if it were a piston driving her body's engine to turn faster and faster. With each heartbeat, she was thrust further down the shimmering street, and she once again felt maddeningly like a frantic freight train hurtling towards the edge of a cliff.

Now, with the sands of time flowing against her, she had become a woman possessed of a single purpose, one single objective of sheer perfect clarity.

I must get to the bank. I must get to the bank, Lex thought, the mantra stuck on repeat in her head.

Lex wanted to explore magic. She needed to get her hands on some magical proof. She needed to convince someone to help her, because, Heaven knows, she certainly couldn't do this all on her own. She needed to find a way to hold onto her squibness. And, unfortunately, none of these needs would be fulfilled for free.

Good to know financial difficulties are a constant, no matter how magical the universe, Lex thought bitterly.

Walking around with single-minded purpose was apparently an excellent way to navigate The Inside Out. Lex soon found the shiny golden path at her feet opening into an equally shiny, albeit much more decorative, empty courtyard. A single building cast an imposing shadow across the embossed metal plates and marble tiles that composed the courtyard, and it was blaringly obvious that this building was the focal point of the entire square.

Braced against the side of The Inside Out's gigantic dome, a shady grove of dark willow trees, beset by dark mist, appeared to fuse into the twisted metal girders and partial concrete walls of a remnant skyscraper. Protruding from the copse of willows was a grand towering building of petrified wood. The single sloped roof was cut into jagged steps, as the front face of the building appeared to be composed of layered tree trunks. A second line of thick petrified tree trunks was planted a few feet in front of the building, the pillars lit by fiery torches and supporting a heavy bronze roof upon which was engraved in bold lettering "Bank of the Fae." Below the metallic awning, an ornate bronze door was flanked by framed windows covered in delicately-woven crosshatch. The crosshatch material looked more like mossy vines than wood.

Jeremiah had advised her to prepare a basic explanation for the "Puks," but Lex had neglected to ask what "Puks" actually were. For the sake of appearances, it was probably best that she hadn't asked such suspiciously no-maj questions, but now she found herself once more in the awkward position of having no idea what awaited her on the other side of a massive metal door.

Did the Bank of the Fae serve only faeries, or was it just run by faeries? And, for that matter - holy crap, did faeries really exist? She'd seen magical creatures depicted in the stained glass at Flourish & Fontaine and, of course, seen mention of werewolves, hags, and Abraham-Lincoln-loving vampires in the store's books. However, reading about a mythical creature and meeting one in the flesh were two very different things. She'd been reading awfully inconsistent stories about mythical creatures since childhood, but now, here she was, like an astronaut visiting an alien world for first contact. She was possibly about to meet members of another species - a species with magical powers.

One small step for no-maj kind? Lex mused, humming nervously to herself as she began brainstorming hopefully decent and decently hopeful explanations for why she was exchanging no-maj money.

Honestly, wouldn't a simple I'm a squib suffice? Squibs had more reason than most to linger in the no-maj world, and she sincerely hoped her first encounter with another species wouldn't devolve into an interrogation of probing questions. She meandered towards the building's pillar treeline, while struggling to reign in a better plan than "let's just wing it."

BOOM! SMASH! SHRIEK! THUD!

Without warning, a fiery explosion burst through the bank windows, its forceful impact smashing through the woven windows, scattering splintered wood and shattered glass shards all about the courtyard. One hurtling glass shard scraped a thin slice of skin from Lex's left cheek as it flew past with a swoosh, and a menacing sliver of petrified wood embedded itself in her winter coat, just above the waist.

The heavy, bronze doors had been blown from their hinges and sent crashing down onto the courtyard floor with a reverberant thud. Metal shrieked and concrete crumbled as the partial skyscraper collapsed towards the ground with a shudder and a moan. When the no-maj structure finally struck the pavement, trees toppled and a cloud of dust gusted through the courtyard.

Even at her relatively safe distance from the bank, Lex could feel the earth trembling beneath her feet. The piercing whine of her ringing ears concealed the clinking noises that inevitably emanated from the hundreds of courtyard tiles, which were currently rattling violently in their foundations.

Amidst this unsettling silence, Lex stood petrified by the horrific scene. Smoke billowed out from the bank windows, as well as the now-empty door frame, and a raging inferno superheated the surrounding petrified wood to a devilish red glow. A man she recognized, the man who had bumped into her shoulder earlier that morning, hung limply across a window by the door, a jagged wooden post speared through his chest. One of his children cooked beneath his clasped arms as licks of white-hot flame charred both of their bodies red-and-black. More crumpled unmoving silhouettes were visible within the blaze beyond, and Lex was perversely thankful that she was currently too deaf to hear their screams.

Her stomach lurched, and her eyes stung from both salty tears and falling ash. She had been mere seconds away from the entrance, and, oh God, that was almost her. That was almost her. She almost died. She almost died, again.

She didn't want to see the dead father any longer. She didn't want to see the charred child, whom he couldn't save. She didn't want to think about the large family of which they had been a part. She didn't want to think about where the mother and siblings might be. But she couldn't look away. She couldn't move. She could barely breathe.

Ambient background noises were finally fading back into her awareness, and the first sound of which she became abundantly aware was a steady voice, speaking calmly over the raucous wail of a blaring siren.

"EMERGENCY LOCKDOWN, EMERGENCY LOCKDOWN. Please remain calm. ALL METHODS OF TRAVEL ARE CURRENTLY RESTRICTED. Please remain calm. Help is on the way."

The thunderous voice continued on loop, repeating its edict again and again. The words "emergency," and "lockdown" were hammered into Lex's mind, seemingly vibrating through her skull. Distant screams, sobs, and cries of panic melded into a cacophony of raw untethered emotions as the air swelled thick, laden heavy with fear. A sporadic stream of distraught persons ran past, their frantic footsteps echoing through the courtyard, along with the scraping of loosened tiles underfoot. The blooming haze of smoke and ash obscured all but the diversity of their silhouettes, as well as the occasional set of glowing eyes or a beaming wand.

The anxiety of Lex's waning squibness was long forgotten. It had been replaced by the anxiety that accompanies nothing but the purest forms of terror.

Lex turned and fled.

There was nowhere to run, but she needed to escape. Stumbling down the foggy street, Lex tripped over a loose brick, bashed her right knee against a brick wall, and bumped into several people, taking an elbow to her ribs and a couple of kicks to the shins. The cloudy haze, which encompassed her entire field of view, finally thinned as she turned down a familiar street leading back to the quaint courtyard at the southern entrance of The Inside Out. She finally slowed her pace to lean against one of the courtyard's perimeter walls and allowed a fit of coughs to overtake her. The few people standing near her quickly moved away, leaving Lex with an unobstructed view of the chaos.

The cheery courtyard would have appeared entirely unaffected by the prevailing crisis were it not for a flashing red gate blocking the southern entrance and the small crowds of onlookers gathering throughout the square. They whispered to one another and pointed at the bulging tower of smoke, which spiraled over the rooftops and ultimately collected, trapped, along the domed ceiling. Lex was in no mood to guess at the fluid mechanics of smoke in a modified fourth-dimensional space, but the smoke did not appear to be dispersing fast enough to avoid blocking out most of the sunlight. The sky had darkened considerably, and the harsh red light from the various emergency gates flashed pronouncedly against the dark clouds like crimson lightning.

Those in the crowd who had escaped the fallout of the explosion were easily identified by the layers of dust and ash that coated their faces and clothing. A kindly group of men and women roamed the courtyard, cleaning shell-shocked victims off with a mere flick of their wands.

Soon, a man with a long black braid thrown over each shoulder approached Lex and banished the grime from her body in one fluid motion. The shard of petrified wood embedded in her jacket instantly dislodged itself and clattered unceremoniously to the floor.

When the man spotted the gash on Lex's freshly-cleaned cheek, the wrinkles on his forehead deepened, and his mouth drew into a tense line. Wordlessly, he touched the tip of his wand to her cut and held the wand in place for approximately nine seconds as an itchy tingle burrowed through her ripped skin. Finally, the man returned his wand and wand arm to his side.

Lex touched a trembling hand to her left cheek and confirmed that it was, indeed, whole once more.

"Thank you," she whispered, and the man gave a slow nod, before turning away to seek out another patient.

Exhaustion finally set in as Lex's body recovered from its clumsy sprint. Her situational awareness was slowly returning, now that the immediate danger had passed. However, her fear was anything but abated.

She had just witnessed something horrible. She didn't know what procedures MACUSA had in place for such emergencies, but given that they'd restricted all travel to and from The Inside Out, Lex could make a few educated guesses. Non-magicals were regrettably familiar with acts of terrorism, after all… Yes, if law enforcement prevented citizens from fleeing the vicinity, it could only be for a handful of unfortunate reasons, and all of the reasons might prove disastrous for her.

First, there was the likelihood that the MACUSA Aurors believed the culprit, or culprits, were still within the walls of The Inside Out. Second, if this was an embarrassing breach of security, the Aurors might be under some sort of political pressure to institute a massive coverup. Third, even if the Aurors believed the culprits had escaped, they may want to interview key witnesses, identify the victims, and survey the current occupants of The Inside Out to determine who might have been a possible target.

As encouraging as it was to see that some people knew how to effectively plan and execute said plans, Lex was not thrilled at the chance of interacting with Aurors in any capacity. She couldn't remember the phrase "wrong place, wrong time" ever applying more thoroughly than in the present moment. Who could be a better witness than the person fifty feet in front of the door, within full view of the door and windows, before and after the bank exploded?

I don't even have a plausible excuse for exchanging currency! How the hell am I going to make it through an interrogation with suspicious police officers? Lex thought, grimacing, Oh why, oh why couldn't I be more into LARPing? I can't act for shit!

Lex stiffened as the immobilizing chill of dread spread throughout her body, spreading until she at last felt as thoroughly frozen and transparently frigid as an ice sculpture. However, the fear was soon replaced by a resigned numbness. She had experienced more emotions in the past four hours than she had in the past four months, and Lex was immensely grateful for her logical subconscious' executive decision to simply "call it a day."

She could just imagine the internal dialogue her subconscious was having right now…

Hm, it looks like we've got yet another positively-identified threat… Yes, yes, a dose of dread might be helpful here… Engage survival instincts?

No way, man! We've already run joy, sorrow, and unbridled terror today - I'm giving her all she's got!

Okay, okay. Look, dude… I'd say we've got at least another hour before anything truly life-threatening pops up. What do you say we just put her on idle and come back to the emotions thing after a full system reboot?

Okay! Lunch break?

Lunch break.

Lex's stomach growled, and she immediately wished she hadn't skipped breakfast that morning. Of course, she wasn't sure she'd have been able to keep it in her stomach even if she had. Lex couldn't remember the last time she'd burnt that many calories on purpose or otherwise. Stomach churning in pain, she glanced around for a place to sit or, more specifically, to huddle while clutching her abdomen.

A bench, identical to the one she'd occupied earlier for her brainstorm session, rested in a nearby alcove. The tower of smoke had ceased rising, the flames at the bank apparently extinguished, and most of the onlookers were now returning to shops or ambling about, looking for seating. This alcove had been neglected, as it was angled towards the wall and away from anything of notable interest. However, Lex was emotionally numb at the moment and cared not for scenic views but only for some privacy with which to compose herself.

Drifting into the shady alcove, Lex slumped onto a bench. In an attempt to squeeze the pain out of her grumbling stomach, she bent over until her head was propped between her knees. Then, eyes clasped shut, she simply sighed, deciding to focus on nothing but breathing for the time being.

Several long full exhales later, Lex opened her eyes to stare at the bricks beneath her feet. Surprisingly, even magical bricks were more interesting than non-magical bricks. A dainty dandelion was carved into the slate brick directly below her face, and if she stared long enough, it seemed to dance and shift about the smooth slate square.

Huh. Guess that beagle was onto something, she chuckled to herself, before wincing at the spasms it sent through her constricting torso.

Glancing past her shoes, she glimpsed a flimsy corner of newspaper surreptitiously peeking out from underneath the bench. She quickly scooped it up and rejoiced at this stroke of good fortune. The newspaper, titled The New York Ghost was dated October 13th, her birthday. Of course, it may have been outdated, but even outdated magical news would be news to her. If she was, indeed, about to be caught, at least she'd managed to accomplish one of her goals first.

Her eyes darted to the bold newspaper headline, but the text was immediately swallowed up by a decorative advertisement. Two cupped hands framed the ad box's title, "Lady Catarina's Crossword: No-Maj Edition," which hovered above the generic-looking crossword below. In smaller text at the foot of the box, it invited the reader to visit Lady Catarina's shop at the address listed and promised a generous coupon upon crossword completion.

No-maj edition? Lex was startled by the implications. Could the newspaper tell that she wasn't magical? But, no… if that were the case, how would squibs like Jeremiah read the news? They wouldn't deny squibs knowledge of current events… right?

Reading through some of the crossword hints, her mind was immediately put at ease. Rather than targeting a no-maj audience, the crossword title referred to the theme of the day. In fact, the theme appeared to be particularly focused on no-maj religious customs. She couldn't help but chuckle at the irony of the crossword having a "no-maj" theme on her birthday, especially such a spiritual theme.

Flipping through the pages, her initial ease quickly faded once more. The obnoxious crossword had actually begun to follow her gaze around, jumping from page to page, bumping text aside, enlarging, and teetering back and forth to capture her attention, as if it were possible for the annoying thing to escape notice in the first place. She couldn't believe it. Even the magical world had pop-up ads! Instinctively, she had begun shaking the paper in front of her, hoping the ad would just fall off.

Of course, the advertisement didn't budge, and Lex was forced to accept that neither gravity nor any other blunt force of physics nor her undying angst would remove that stubborn box from the pages of The New York Ghost. The horrific thought crossed her mind that even if she burned the paper the magical ad might persist, but she quickly stamped that thought out.

A swarm of Aurors might descend at any moment. She already felt powerless to act, as any attempts to evade the authorities would surely draw suspicion to herself and ultimately result in failure. And now, as if she didn't have enough to be frustrated about, she couldn't even read the stupid newspaper!

She hadn't brought much with her for today's adventure, forsaking her usual purse, as it was currently much too painful to carry the heavy chafing thing on her bruised shoulders. However, she had at least possessed the foresight to pocket a pen and her folded map. She moved to retrieve the pen from her pocket, but was suddenly seized by a terrifying realization.

She was a strange squib carrying a highly-suspicious map of plotted magical locations on the day of an explosion. Witches and wizards didn't impress her as particularly logical, but no one in their right mind would wave that off.

She quickly glanced around. Luckily, she'd chosen a secluded place to sit. No one could see her from this odd angle, and so far no one had even passed the alcove. There was still time to dispose of it…

Obviously, setting it on fire would have been preferable. If she'd known, she could've just tossed it at the bank or simply dropped it on the ground and then run off. However, if she were to attempt a stunt like that now, the evidence would clearly be linked to her, the lone, unsupervised stranger, who had last been seated in this area. She had neither matches nor a lighter and had recently learned that magic was an impossibility for her, even if she somehow learned the right spell. So, no, no more pyrotechnics for the day…

Her stomach grumbled indignantly, and Lex grimaced at her next solution. It was disgusting, but she had to admit that no one was likely to think of pumping her stomach for clues… ugh.

Grasping the map, the meticulously plotted and color-coded fruit of last night's labors, in her hands, she curtly began ripping the thick paper into long strips. Luckily, the map wasn't laminated, but the heavy, stock paper still wasn't going to digest easily.

Ugh. She glared at the pile of shredded paper in her lap, lips curling in disgust. She had declared that she would let nothing keep her from this magical world, that nothing would force her back to the mundane, but… how far was she willing to go?

In desperate answer to her desperate question, Lex began stuffing paper into her mouth and slurping the strips down like noodles.

Though pleasantly surprised at the way the nutritionless paper strips quieted her stomach, Lex willfully resolved to make her culinary sacrifice count. She wasn't going to let the Aurors catch her so easily. She'd explore every avenue available to her, and if they still managed to capture her, then… well, she wouldn't be able to remember any of this anyway. She supposed that she would be in for a bit of a surprise, however, when her body started turning out paper strips.

Finally, Lex finished her unhealthy meal and decided to check on the status of the other denizens of The Inside Out. Newspaper in hand, she returned to the quaint courtyard and surveyed the surrounding area. Some people were milling about the nearby shops, apparently taking their stress out on their wallets, while the majority were seated at benches and tables throughout the courtyard square. The partially covered outdoor seating area she'd noticed earlier that morning wasn't even half-full.

With a deep sigh, she strode over to the seating area and selected an empty patio table in the far corner. Sitting with her back to the sturdy posts of a honeysuckle-covered trellis, Lex allowed herself to savor the sweet aroma of honeysuckles for a moment before returning to her task. Then, placing The New York Ghost on the tabletop, she drew the pen from her pocket and readied it with a satisfactory click.

"Six down - first book of the Bible…" murmured Lex to herself.

She'd been raised in a religious family, though she wasn't particularly religious. She quickly scrawled "GENESIS" into the appropriate boxes and then crossed out the six down hint. Easy enough… The simple trivia helped to calm her nerves as she took in her surroundings. Any information she could glean about the wizarding world, as well as the ongoing lockdown procedures, would surely assist her in creating a more plausible story for the Aurors. Perhaps she'd get lucky and they'd overlook her completely, but it wouldn't do to sit here acting nervous in the meantime.

"Eight down - Last book of the Old Testament…" she muttered, before tapping the pen tip repeatedly against the paper.

She didn't know the answer to this one. She drew a star by the number eight and then glanced nonchalantly around, before inhaling sharply. Two tables away from hers, in the opposite corner of the seating area, a young man leaned casually back in his chair, his powerful gaze locked intently on Lex.

He wore a thick black cloak over an expensive-looking black suit and pressed a polished black dress shoe against his table, so that his chair balanced on the back two legs in a manner that was anything but professional. And yet, his contrary behavior seemed perfectly suited to his roguish good looks.

Dark windswept hair framed an olive-toned face of chiseled, aristocratic features, and a pair of sophisticated eyebrows topped his twinkling dark eyes, which slanted slightly, lending him a somewhat exotic and alluring appearance. Despite his friendly smirk or, perhaps, because of it, he exuded an aura of danger and predation, like a viper poised to strike. Lex dropped her pen, and it rolled onto the floor.

Crap, she thought, leaning down to retrieve the runaway pen.

Returning to a normal sitting position, she was startled to find the handsome and intimidating young man pulling out a chair across from her. She struggled to hide her shock as he slid gracefully into the commandeered seat.

"Anything newsworthy?" he asked slyly, his voice deep, yet silky-smooth.

Quickly reevaluating the man up-close, Lex realized that he actually seemed quite amiable and, dare she say it, charming. She couldn't believe she had immediately assumed this man was dangerous. Ugh, she wasn't usually so flighty…

She attempted to calm her nerves, as her current level of tension could only lead to more mistakes, but before she could answer, the man leaned over to glance at her newspaper and the largely unfinished crossword displayed across its pages. His eyebrows rose slightly as he settled back into his chair.

"Ah, Lady Catarina's Crossword," he said, expelling an airy sigh that was entirely too pleasant, "She sets about her work vigorously…"

Raising her arm and tapping the crossword with her pen, Lex spoke tentatively, as she was still slightly distracted by his breathy sigh, "Er, yeah, I mean, I guess. I'm usually pretty… vigorous. I've only completed a single question, though."

At least, she still retained enough self-discipline to not reflexively face-palm. She certainly wanted to right now. Or to, perhaps, bang her forehead against the table - that would work too.

"Well, start children off on the way they should go…" he replied hesitantly, furrowing his eyebrows.

Alright, at least I'm not the only awkward one at this table, Lex thought with relief.

He certainly had an unusual way of phrasing things, but she supposed the universe couldn't be too generous when handing out personal attributes. Every person was intrinsically obliged to possess at least some negative qualities. Unattractiveness and lack-of-charm certainly weren't on this man's negatives list. And yet, "poor conversationalist" was fairly tame, as far as unattractive traits for attractive men went. She decided to go easy on him.

"Are you saying I'm a child?" she teased, while plastering the friendliest smile she could manage onto her face.

The man's furrowed brow deepened, and he momentarily shifted his gaze to his lap, before abruptly scooting to the edge of his seat. He plopped his arms onto the table and leaned forward on his elbows, while fixing her with a hopelessly-abashed grin.

"I apologize - this isn't going the way I planned at all. I haven't even introduced myself! I'm usually not this rude…" he said, smiling warmly, before thrusting his open hand across the table, "I'm Seth Roman. What's your name?"

"I'm Alexandra," she replied, returning a firm handshake and deciding it would be best to withhold her last name until she knew more about him, "Don't worry about it - you're not being rude at all, Seth. I think everyone's still on-edge, after today's… events."

"Of course," he responded wistfully, seemingly deep in thought.

Granting him a minute or two to contemplate whatever he had to contemplate at this moment, she pretended to continue her "vigorous" work on the crossword puzzle. Although he was quite handsome when daydreaming, she didn't want to make an awkward situation even more awkward by staring.

"Today has, indeed, been a difficult day for all of us," he began earnestly, while Lex made a valorous effort to appear as if he had interrupted her train of thought, "but, perhaps, you and I can find a silver lining in all of this? I could certainly use a drink and, perhaps, even a bite to eat. So… perhaps, you would do me the honor of accompanying me on this venture."

Perhaps, thought Lex teasingly, but, ultimately, held both her tongue and her laughter.

Lex had been in romantic relationships before, some more successful than others… but she hadn't been on a date in quite some time. Honestly, she had entirely lost interest in such things. After a while, dating seemed about as unique and rewarding as her Pumpkin Spice Lattes - there were numerous, nearly-identical locations where she could find one, with some of them proving slightly better or slightly worse, but, ultimately, as unremarkable and unnecessary as the next.

Seth was definitely attractive, but he could never give her anything even remotely close to the joy, hope, and emotional satisfaction that magic brought her. Perhaps he might be a good source of magical knowledge and information in the future, but at the moment, it was far more likely that he'd discover her secret or otherwise gift her with a one-way ticket to ultimate Obliviation. No, she would have to refuse him. Even now, he was wasting valuable time that she should be putting towards escaping The Inside Out with her memories intact.

"Thank you for the offer, Seth. I'm flattered, but I think I'd rather stay here and wait out the lockdown. Perhaps… some other time?" she replied gently, trying not to linger too long on the word "perhaps."

Instead of looking downcast, Seth seemed to pep-up slightly, leaning even further onto the table. His eyes shone brightly in the noonday sun, and Lex could see that his eyes, which had appeared so dark before, were actually a vibrant hazel, the irises tinted a beautiful gradient of blue-and-green to golden amber. Somehow, even with the sun beaming warm rays of sunshine down onto the reflective table, Seth managed to appear positively radiant through the glare.

"Alright. Let's just stay here then," he said, glancing down at her crossword once more, "Perhaps I can assist you with your crossword puzzle. What do you say?"

Lex shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Nothing was going according to plan today. She didn't want to be rude, but this was really not the best time for romantic overtures, and her emotions were riding on, shall we say, a short fuse. She decided to be blunt, as the direct route of communication was best for getting a point across, and, in her experience, it usually scared men off effectively anyway.

"Look, Seth, you're an attractive guy, and you seem like a nice one too. Under different circumstances, I might be interested, but I'm not interested right now. I'm sorry."

She flashed him a pained apologetic smile, but it was apparently unnecessary because the man still wasn't getting it. He didn't appear fazed in the slightest. In fact, if anything, he appeared emboldened. Reaching across the table, Seth placed the tips of his fingers on her newspaper, curtly slid it back with him to his side of the table and spun it around. Leaning over the newspaper, he proceeded to read aloud, as if she'd said nothing of significance.

"Hm… Twelve across - Love Story of the Bible… Ah, that's an easy one…" he mused aloud, before extending a hand across the table, palm up, "Pen?"

Oh great, thought Lex frustratedly, He's one of those guys. What perfect timing for me to encounter a guy who just loves himself a challenge…

"Seth, I think you misunderstand me. I'm not playing coy or hard-to-get or anything like that, okay? I just want to sit here and do my crossword in peace and solitude."

Seth chuckled, slapping his hand down onto the table, as if Lex had just told a joke. He lifted his head up, a look of stubborn, yet manly, determination on his face. Lex thought she detected just a flicker of the savage aura she'd felt earlier, but it quickly disappeared behind his confident charming gaze. He smirked boyishly as he spoke.

"Oh no, I understand… Alexandra," he paused, openly savoring her name, "but I think you'll find I don't relent quite as easily as most wizards. As you've said, circumstances aren't exactly ideal right now, but if we wait around, playing it safe our entire lives, ideal circumstances may never come. Why not take a chance, take a risk, for once? It's obvious that today's ordeal has taken its toll, and you shouldn't have to deal with all of that stress on your own… I promise, I'm decent company, once you get to know me."

Buddy, I've been taking risks all day! Lex thought angrily, I've taken enough risks, today. Hell, you're a walking talking risk!

"You know, I'm not feeling like much of a daredevil today, thanks," hissed Lex, meeting his hazel eyes with a full-strength glare, "I'm sure you're decent company, but I'm currently aiming for no company. That would be a lot easier to accomplish if you'd just leave."

Seth simply sighed exasperatedly and swished his impeccably-straight wand. A pen materialized in his left hand, and he began filling in crossword boxes, while reading his penmanship aloud.

"Song… of… songs…"

"Wow. Just wow. Okay, I take it back, Seth. Now you are being rude. What part of 'no means no' don't you understand?" Lex growled.

"Well, for one, you never expressly said 'no, stop trying, Seth' - " he began in his obnoxiously seductive voice.

"I don't think it can get much more expressive than 'please, leave.' I will say it again - please, leave," Lex spat, her blood brought to a boil.

"Hm…" Seth said, pretending to consider her request, before finishing with a smirk, "no, I think I'd like to remain seated."

"Geez, are you a child? Maybe I should take your advice, and 'start children off on the way they should go!'"

Seth looked up abruptly from The New York Ghost, his face frozen in a wide grin, "And even when they are old, they will not turn from it."

"Okay, okay, I get it. You're stubborn… you're a philosopher… congratulations! Now, it's time you start off on the way you should go - " she pointed vigorously towards the street behind him and shouted, "THAT WAY!"

Seth looked over his left shoulder at the street beyond, before turning back to her with a quizzical expression.

"That way? Why not…" he looked over his right shoulder and pointed, "...that way… or… that one?" he asked in mock bewilderment as he pointed next at one of the streets behind Lex.

She threw up her hands in exasperation, before groaning, "Really? You're kidding me, right?"

Seth propped his head in his hands and chuckled in utter amusement, "Why don't you leave, Alexandra? I'm not keeping you here. I haven't cast a Sticking Charm on your seat."

Lex was slightly taken-aback to learn that there was actually a charm for sticking someone to a chair, but she was greatly taken-aback by Seth's question. She wasn't usually territorial, but the thought of leaving hadn't crossed her mind. She had been confident that better communication was all that was needed. However, if he refused to leave, she supposed she might as well just return to her secluded alcove.

Still, why wouldn't he leave? Was he so encouraged by her remaining seated that he felt he could ignore her words? Seth's rationale aside, Lex felt it was best to evaluate the costs and the benefits of this situation. If the Aurors came for her, could he be useful somehow? Perhaps he might be able to answer some of her less-suspicious questions or even just finish the crossword puzzle with her, so that she could finally read the damn paper.

"I see you're still here," he drawled smugly.

"That's it!" Lex huffed, jolting up from her seat, the chair legs screeching shrilly across the stone tiles.

No amount of potential information was worth this hassle. At this rate, the Aurors would soon be arresting her anyway - for violence in the streets! She stomped over to his side of the table and reached for her newspaper, but he immediately moved it out of her reach.

"Give. Me. My. Newspaper." Lex muttered in warning.

Seth flicked his wand at the newspaper and then waved his right hand around frantically, staring at the paper in mock confusion.

"Oh my! Alexandra, darling! Would you look at that?" Seth asked, gasping exaggeratedly, "It looks like there is a Sticking Charm, but it is not on your chair - it's on the newspaper!"

Lex was fed up with his theatrics and was in the process of devising a particularly-biting remark to tell him so, when a small group of approximately fifteen black-clad men and women walked into the courtyard. A blonde middle-aged witch at the head of the group inspected the courtyard, before gesturing in several different directions. The group promptly dispersed in an orderly fashion, and Lex's stomach plummeted like a stone. Aurors - they had to be.

Time's up, a voice of her subconscious whispered unhelpfully.

She couldn't just take off to her alcove now. Even though no announcements had been made and no orders issued since the sirens, it was clear that the roving Aurors intended to speak with every occupant of the courtyard square. Lex plopped defeatedly into the seat next to Seth.

It'll all be over soon, her subconscious murmured, and she gave it a prompt mental slap.

"Fine," Lex droned dejectedly, "Let's finish the stupid crossword. The Aurors will come around soon enough, and then we can all go home."

Seth raised an eyebrow inquisitively and replied, "As pleased as I am that you've decided to stay, I can't help but feel that it's less on account of my considerable charm and more on account of the beloved Auror's office. You're not a fan, I assume?"

Considerable charm, huh? I suppose now we can add "arrogant" right below "poor conversationalist" on his negative characteristics list… she thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the man.

"Not particularly. Why should I be? After everything I've been through… after this crazy, terrible day…" she lamented, her voice suddenly wavering and her eyes welling up with tears as she felt the weight of her fears come crashing down at last, "After all of this, I just want to go home. The day is only halfway through, and already I feel as if I haven't slept in days. I could have died today, but I didn't. And now, I just want to go home. Instead, they have us locked up in here, just sitting around, thinking and fearing. We've received no word about what happened or whether or not we're even safe right now. So… no, excuse me, but I don't really feel like cheering for the Auror's office at the moment, thanks."

Seth leaned back in his chair and gazed thoughtfully across the table. His expression softened, his hazel eyes warm, gentle, and mercifully free of pity. A tender smile spread across his face, and Lex's heart ached in her chest at the sight. She found herself badly in need of comfort, though she'd never admit it to a total stranger like Seth.

"You'll get to go home soon," he said quietly, "In the meantime, we can pass the time however you please, Alexandra."

He swished his wand in front of the newspaper, which freed itself from his priorly-sticky hand and floated downwards onto the table. Seth then spun The New York Ghost around to face Lex, just as the stern-looking female Auror she'd noticed earlier approached their table. Her platinum blonde hair was pulled so tightly back from the skin of her forehead that it appeared to painfully suspend her eyebrows. Beneath her thin eyebrows, two piercing baby-blue eyes were frozen in a constant state of alert apprehension. Seth turned his head casually to the side and appraised her. Then, the woman cleared her throat, before speaking in a gruff gravelly voice.

"Auror Roman," she said, inclining her head politely in Seth's direction.

"Auror Wilkinson," Seth replied.