Author Note: Anon, you are the love of my life. You are the second reviewer to give me a critical review with helpful suggestions. It brightened my day and I will keep everything you said in mind. The suggestions were really brilliant, thank you so much! Unfortunately I am not in my early twenties but good guess.

As they walk out of Ollivander's, Mikasa notices a shop, The Magical Menagerie, across the street. It's filled with animals of every type, and children peering at them with wide, smiling faces. Dolohov notices her staring at the store.

"Do you want a pet?"

Mikasa's eyes widen in surprise. A pet? An animal to take care of? They didn't have pets behind the walls. All animals were purely functional. For food, pulling carts, or riding. Mikasa wonders what it would be like to have a pet. But . . . no, she shouldn't trouble Dolohov. He's already taken her into the house, dealt with dark magic rituals and a lot more. It would probably be a nuisance for him if she had a pet.

"No, I don't want a pet," she tells Dolohov.

Dolohov refrains from rolling his eyes. Barely. He'd seen Mikasa staring at the shop with longing. Silly girl, she probably thinks it will be a nuisance if she has a pet. She'll need a push to admit that she wants one.

"Animals can enhance magical abilities and familiars can even be used to perform rituals and channel magic through. It would be wise of you to purchase a magical animal."

So he does want her to get a pet? "Okay," Mikasa tells Dolohov.

They walk into the store and a small, black bundle of fur comes flying at Mikasa. She catches it easily, and looks at the tag stuck to its collar. It's a kneazle, a magical brand of feline. The kneazle begins to purr and looks up at Mikasa with vivid green eyes. She scratches it behind the ears and the purring increases until it sounds akin to a motorboat.

Dolohov looks down at Mikasa and sees her smiling, widely. This is the first time he's seen her looking so completely happy and carefree. He smiles too, despite himself.

Mikasa buys the small kneazle and decides to name it Connie, another overenthusiastic person she happens to know. Or knew, anyways.

As they leave the shop, Mikasa sees two semi-drunken men walk by, and recognizes them as regulars from the Hog's Head, Tom's bar. They recognize her too.

"Oi, Mikasa, haven't seen you 'round the bar in a while," one of them comments, "Where've ya gotten' yourself off ta lately," he slurs.

Dolohov steers Mikasa away from the two men with a sigh. The first time anyone in the wizarding world saw her and she was working in a bar! For Merlin's sake! And she doesn't seem to care either. At this point Mikasa is known as either a death eater's daughter or a bar girl, and she seems completely unfazed. What if she starts waving to drunks on the street? What that would do to the Dolohov name . . .

Dolohov leads Mikasa into Florean Fortescue's ice cream shop and gets her a cone of chocolate ice cream. He hands it to her. "Take this and promise me you will not associate with members of bars, you will not work in bars, and you will not interact with drunk people. If men like that come up to you in the street again you will act as though you have absolutely no idea who they are. Understood?"

"Yes, but . . ." Mikasa looks questioningly at the ice cream. "What is that?"

Dolohov's eyes widen slightly in surprise and he mentally berates himself. He needs to stop thinking that Mikasa is normal. She is not the ordinary child. Nothing that she says should surprise him any more. But, what kind of environment does one have to grow up in to not even know what ice cream is?

"It consists of milk mixed with sugar, cream, and a few other ingredients."

Behind the wall, things like cream and sugar were rare commodities reserved solely for the nobles. Mikasa takes the ice cream and hesitantly tastes it; it can't be that amazing-holy crap that is the most wonderful thing she has ever eaten in her entire life.

Dolohov watches Mikasa with amusement. She looks like a toddler who's never had sugar before. Mikasa finishes the cone in seconds. It was delicious, if only Eren could have tasted . . . her breath hitches. She feels ashamed. All this time, she's been living this charmed life, not thinking about Eren. How could she forget? Why isn't she trying harder to get home?

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Mikasa knows the answer: she doesn't want to go back.

In that cursed world, in that place where every day was spent living in constant fear, where Eren was her only hope, she was not happy. She was gifted, and fought well, and helped others. She was everything the other trainees wanted to be, but she was not happy. Happy is impossible when everyone around you is dying day after day, when you live in constant fear of watching every single person you care for get ripped to pieces. But here . . .

Mikasa bites her lip, here in this world, with magic and dark lords and spells and pets, she is . . . actually happy. She always thought she needed Eren to feel anything, to tie her to life. But she doesn't. She is happy, and Eren could still be struggling to pass each day with no one to protect him. She doesn't deserve this happiness.

Dolohov is confused. One second Mikasa seems happy and is smiling more than he's ever seen, and all of a sudden, her face falls, and she looks miserable. What he wouldn't give to find out what she's thinking. Legilimency has already proven a failure, but what about Veritaserum? Mikasa would never forgive him, but to know what she's hiding . . .

Is that worth it? Is her hatred and mistrust worth the truth? A few weeks ago he would have said yes, absolutely, but now . . .

He glances back at Mikasa and she still looks like she's on the verge of tears. Forget veritaserum, Dolohov decides, he is Mikasa's guardian. He should be able to get her to tell him what she's thinking without ripping through her brain or feeding her highly controversial potions that may or may not cause brain damage.

"Mikasa, what's wrong?" he asks.

She bites her lip and looks away," Nothing."

His voice becomes icy, "Do you think I'm an idiot? You're obviously lying. I don't know why you feel such a need to keep secrets but I have other ways to find out and it would be foolish of you to think you can hide your thoughts forever."

He's right, Mikasa realizes. She has to tell him something. She looks up at him, her eyes full of self-hatred. "I am happy, but I don't deserve to be. People that are . . . very important to me are suffering while I am completely fine. I don't deserve this. They are the ones that should be happy. They are the ones that should be living a life without hunger and pain. Not me."

Guilt, pain, anger. Dolohov did not understand the emotions Mikasa was exhibiting, but he does now. But what kind of life did she live where being tortured by Voldemort and having a death eater as her guardian is considered conducive to happiness?

"Mikasa," Dolohov tells her, "If the people you care about would hate you for being happy, they aren't worth feeling guilty, and if they would want you to be happy, you should respect their wishes,"

Mikasa looks at Dolohov. Why is he telling her this? Why is he trying to make her feel better? Does he . . . care about her? No, of course he doesn't, but still, would he really care about her happiness if she was only interesting to him? If he didn't care about her at all? No, he wouldn't.

Dolohov is shocked when Mikasa's face breaks into a blinding smile. "Thank you," she tells him.

And they do not speak of the matter again.