CHAPTER THREE: London
Roxanne woke early, the just-rising sun glaring annoyingly in her eyes through the windshield of her car. She'd slept a few uncomfortable hours in the reclined front seat, parked in the long-term parking lot at the airport. She'd decided it would be best to slip away into the night, to avoid answering any awkward questions about the enormous bed in her motel room. There'd been no mention of how to reverse the 'engorgio' spell in her father's letter. So she'd left and reached the airport with five hours still to wait before the flight left.
Now, with the sun freeing itself from the horizon and the air still chill, she lurched drowsily out the door, stretched, yawned and rubbed her eyes. Summer was well under way. The day would be hot and clear, but the morning, as most mornings were in Montana, was cold. She pulled the fleece collar of her jacket up around her ears and fumbled for the keys in her pocket. A loud popping noise behind her made her jump and she spun around to find Mr. Orcrist, looking as if he had been standing there all along.
"Good morning Roxanne," he said looking at his watch. "Shall we be on our way then?"
Roxanne dropped her keys and stammered, "Wh- where did you come from?"
"I apparated, of course. Did you expect me to fly in on my broom?" he answered smiling broadly.
"You have a br-broom? I thought that was a witch thing."
"Another muggle misperception," he sighed. "I'm afraid it's rather a long walk to the terminal from here. Can I help you carry your things?" he asked, shifting his small travel bag higher on his shoulder.
"Now wait," she said, realization dawning. "Why can't we just apparate to the terminal? For that matter why not all the way to London?"
Retrieving her carry-on bag from the back seat and helping her with her trunk he replied, "You're not allowed yet. You've got a lot to learn before you can start popping all over the world, the least of which how to manage a 'reducio' spell. Did you miss the key?" He laughed at her shocked expression. "Don't worry. I took care of the bed for you."
**********
The flight was long-very long for Mr. Orcrist who was peppered with whispered questions for hour upon hour. Arriving at Heathrow they hailed a cab and drove into London. Still asking questions, Roxanne hardly noticed when Mr. Orcrist asked the driver to pull over and paid the fare. And kept asking as he unloaded their bags and set them on the sidewalk in front of an unremarkable door in a long row of shops. Finally he grasped her shoulders.
"Miss Stewart," he said rolling his eyes, "enough questions." Then reaching for the door and opening it before her, smiling, he said "Welcome to the wizard world."
She looked at him, then the door with a bewildered expression, then stepped through into a dimly lit tavern that was unlike any that Roxanne had ever seen in America, and-she guessed correctly-unlike your average English pub. She gaped stupidly at the crowd of robe-clad figures milling about, ordering drinks, laughing, whispering in tightly huddled groups.
"Mr. Orcrist!" called a man from behind the bar. "Is this our American friend?"
"It is indeed, Tom," Mr. Orcrist called back. "Have you still got a spot for her?"
"Of course. Hildie and I have been looking forward to it."
"Roxanne, this is Tom, the owner of this establishment." He pulled Roxanne forward by the elbow. "Tom's manned the bar here for as long as I can remember. He served more than a few drinks to your father and I-before Lorenzo left for America anyway."
"Sorry to hear about your dad, my dear," said Tom, extending his hand over the bar.
"Er, thanks," she said, grasping his hand limply, still gawking at the crowd.
"Roxanne," interrupted Mr. Orcrist, "I've got business to attend to. I've been away far too long-bloody muggle travel. I'm leaving you in Tom's care. I told him you'd be perfectly happy," he said eyeing her meaningfully, "to work for your keep for a few days, until Hagrid can come for you."
Roxanne nodded numbly, not really registering what he'd said for a few moments.
"Wait a minute," she said, snapping back to attention. "What do you mean, 'work?'"
"I'm sorry, I didn't get much of a chance to tell you. I was a little busy answering question-all the way across the Atlantic," Mr. Orcrist smirked. "You'll be best off staying here. But you'll have to wait tables, to earn your room and board. It'll only be for a week or so. And if you pay attention you'll be able to learn a fair bit of magic. Oh, nearly forgot," and he reached into an inside pocket of his coat pulling out a small leather pouch, "you'll need this when Hagrid arrives. It's for your school supplies." He reached out to drop it into her hand, then thinking better of it, "On second thought, I'll leave it with Tom." He leaned in close and whispered "We can't have you drinking it all away, now can we?"
He handed the pouch to Tom as Roxanne shot him a nasty look. He nodded, smiled and turned for the door.
"Right this way," said Tom picking up her trunk. "I'll show you to your room."
**********
At last Roxanne's days as a slacker were paying off-she'd had plenty of experience waiting tables as it was one of few jobs for which she was qualified. She eased quickly into the work and listened and learned at every opportunity. Only a few customers were annoyed at her child-like curiosity:
"Excuse me, is there anything significant about the color of your robes? Pardon me, I was wondering if you could tell me where you got your wand? I'm sorry, could you show me how you did that?"
She showed a knack for learning quickly and soon had a brood of mother hens hovering around the Leaky Cauldron giving her tips and quick charms lessons, recommending and even lending her books. Before long she was making good money, (Tom allowed her to keep her tips), and had spent some of it on Diagon Alley-a string of wizard shops hidden by magic in the very heart of London. She'd bought an amazing deep blue robe and some sleek, slender-cut clothes at Madam Malkin's, several books, including one entitled "Hogwarts: a History", and even found out how to awaken her chess set. She'd learned it was a wizard chess set, and that the pieces would come alive, playing a brutally delightful game of chess-if you could get them to do what you commanded. Her pieces quickly learned to trust her every command, even sacrificing the queen without complaint in one of her more brilliant strategic moves, as she won match after match against a number of wizened wizards at the pub.
But mostly she'd spent her money doing what she did best-drinking with the late-night crowd (wizards and witches, many of questionable integrity, with nothing more pressing in life than the location of the next party). Despite her near-nightly drunkenness, she arose early every morning for work, reviving herself with a cold shower and hot black coffee. Most days no one noticed any difference. But the day they did became the day Roxanne made her first enemy in the wizard world.
It began with a headache and a nasty scowl early in the afternoon. Roxanne's usual routine had failed to relieve her of the feeling that her head might split in two at any moment. She went about her work, numbly taking orders and clearing tables, when a couple came in-both tall and blonde-and took seats in a dim corner booth.
The gentleman instantly snapped his fingers tartly to call her to his service -Roxanne hated that. Such a gesture generally meant she'd not easily get along with the customer. She signaled to him that she'd be just a minute and turned to the bar to fill an order. He stood and snapped again, glaring heavily at her. She chose to ignore him this time, as she placed plates before a group of lunching witches out for a lady's day out.
He snapped a third time. "Waitress," he called impatiently. Roxanne turned her back, hoping he'd think she hadn't seen him, hoping he'd be annoyed-people like that deserved to be annoyed. But as she turned for the kitchen, he was there, in her face, his icy blue eyes piercing into her deep blue ones, his lips held tightly in a nasty scowl, his face so near hers she could nearly hear the veins popping in his neck.
"My wife and I would like to order a round of drinks, if you don't mind," he hissed through clenched teeth.
A moment of fear quickly turned to anger. Her mind began clicking, working out a plan to put this pompous pig in his place. She'd done it many times before in the muggle world-she'd had to learn to deal with bullies on her own from very early on.
"Certainly sir," she said, feigning sweetness and ignorance. "I'll be right with you."
After taking their orders she absently helped customers at several other tables, anticipating her big move. When Tom called her to pick up their drinks, she thanked him enthusiastically and marched across the room, placed the tray on the table, picked up the glasses and promptly poured them into the man's lap.
"Lucius!" shrieked the woman, standing and clapping a hand to her mouth, a horrified look on her face. Her husband rose so forcefully the table lifted and toppled to the floor, narrowly missing Roxanne as she hopped out of its path.
Then he was on her, one hand to her throat, his fingertips digging into her flesh, pressing her tightly against the wall. The other hand raised his wand as if ready to impale her with it.
"Get off me!" Roxanne growled through clenched teeth, digging her fingernails into his robed arm.
Tom rushed from behind the bar and several other wizards joined him, their wands drawn, as he approached. Roxanne couldn't be certain, and wondered about it often later, but it seemed that at least a few of these wands were pointed not at the man, but at her.
"Mr. Malfoy! Mr. Malfoy! Please!" Tom yelled.
The crowd waited in a tense and sudden silence. Lucius Malfoy had not taken his eyes from her face, but the look of malevolence cooled to a subdued rage as his grip on her throat loosened and his wand hand came slowly down.
"You're a lucky one-today," he said sneering at her.
Tom rushed forward and took Roxanne by the elbow, leading her forcefully behind the bar. "Beggin' your pardon, Mr. Malfoy. It won't happen again."
Malfoy just snorted, then held his arm out for his wife's hand, and they strode out of the Leaky Cauldron.
Roxanne woke early, the just-rising sun glaring annoyingly in her eyes through the windshield of her car. She'd slept a few uncomfortable hours in the reclined front seat, parked in the long-term parking lot at the airport. She'd decided it would be best to slip away into the night, to avoid answering any awkward questions about the enormous bed in her motel room. There'd been no mention of how to reverse the 'engorgio' spell in her father's letter. So she'd left and reached the airport with five hours still to wait before the flight left.
Now, with the sun freeing itself from the horizon and the air still chill, she lurched drowsily out the door, stretched, yawned and rubbed her eyes. Summer was well under way. The day would be hot and clear, but the morning, as most mornings were in Montana, was cold. She pulled the fleece collar of her jacket up around her ears and fumbled for the keys in her pocket. A loud popping noise behind her made her jump and she spun around to find Mr. Orcrist, looking as if he had been standing there all along.
"Good morning Roxanne," he said looking at his watch. "Shall we be on our way then?"
Roxanne dropped her keys and stammered, "Wh- where did you come from?"
"I apparated, of course. Did you expect me to fly in on my broom?" he answered smiling broadly.
"You have a br-broom? I thought that was a witch thing."
"Another muggle misperception," he sighed. "I'm afraid it's rather a long walk to the terminal from here. Can I help you carry your things?" he asked, shifting his small travel bag higher on his shoulder.
"Now wait," she said, realization dawning. "Why can't we just apparate to the terminal? For that matter why not all the way to London?"
Retrieving her carry-on bag from the back seat and helping her with her trunk he replied, "You're not allowed yet. You've got a lot to learn before you can start popping all over the world, the least of which how to manage a 'reducio' spell. Did you miss the key?" He laughed at her shocked expression. "Don't worry. I took care of the bed for you."
**********
The flight was long-very long for Mr. Orcrist who was peppered with whispered questions for hour upon hour. Arriving at Heathrow they hailed a cab and drove into London. Still asking questions, Roxanne hardly noticed when Mr. Orcrist asked the driver to pull over and paid the fare. And kept asking as he unloaded their bags and set them on the sidewalk in front of an unremarkable door in a long row of shops. Finally he grasped her shoulders.
"Miss Stewart," he said rolling his eyes, "enough questions." Then reaching for the door and opening it before her, smiling, he said "Welcome to the wizard world."
She looked at him, then the door with a bewildered expression, then stepped through into a dimly lit tavern that was unlike any that Roxanne had ever seen in America, and-she guessed correctly-unlike your average English pub. She gaped stupidly at the crowd of robe-clad figures milling about, ordering drinks, laughing, whispering in tightly huddled groups.
"Mr. Orcrist!" called a man from behind the bar. "Is this our American friend?"
"It is indeed, Tom," Mr. Orcrist called back. "Have you still got a spot for her?"
"Of course. Hildie and I have been looking forward to it."
"Roxanne, this is Tom, the owner of this establishment." He pulled Roxanne forward by the elbow. "Tom's manned the bar here for as long as I can remember. He served more than a few drinks to your father and I-before Lorenzo left for America anyway."
"Sorry to hear about your dad, my dear," said Tom, extending his hand over the bar.
"Er, thanks," she said, grasping his hand limply, still gawking at the crowd.
"Roxanne," interrupted Mr. Orcrist, "I've got business to attend to. I've been away far too long-bloody muggle travel. I'm leaving you in Tom's care. I told him you'd be perfectly happy," he said eyeing her meaningfully, "to work for your keep for a few days, until Hagrid can come for you."
Roxanne nodded numbly, not really registering what he'd said for a few moments.
"Wait a minute," she said, snapping back to attention. "What do you mean, 'work?'"
"I'm sorry, I didn't get much of a chance to tell you. I was a little busy answering question-all the way across the Atlantic," Mr. Orcrist smirked. "You'll be best off staying here. But you'll have to wait tables, to earn your room and board. It'll only be for a week or so. And if you pay attention you'll be able to learn a fair bit of magic. Oh, nearly forgot," and he reached into an inside pocket of his coat pulling out a small leather pouch, "you'll need this when Hagrid arrives. It's for your school supplies." He reached out to drop it into her hand, then thinking better of it, "On second thought, I'll leave it with Tom." He leaned in close and whispered "We can't have you drinking it all away, now can we?"
He handed the pouch to Tom as Roxanne shot him a nasty look. He nodded, smiled and turned for the door.
"Right this way," said Tom picking up her trunk. "I'll show you to your room."
**********
At last Roxanne's days as a slacker were paying off-she'd had plenty of experience waiting tables as it was one of few jobs for which she was qualified. She eased quickly into the work and listened and learned at every opportunity. Only a few customers were annoyed at her child-like curiosity:
"Excuse me, is there anything significant about the color of your robes? Pardon me, I was wondering if you could tell me where you got your wand? I'm sorry, could you show me how you did that?"
She showed a knack for learning quickly and soon had a brood of mother hens hovering around the Leaky Cauldron giving her tips and quick charms lessons, recommending and even lending her books. Before long she was making good money, (Tom allowed her to keep her tips), and had spent some of it on Diagon Alley-a string of wizard shops hidden by magic in the very heart of London. She'd bought an amazing deep blue robe and some sleek, slender-cut clothes at Madam Malkin's, several books, including one entitled "Hogwarts: a History", and even found out how to awaken her chess set. She'd learned it was a wizard chess set, and that the pieces would come alive, playing a brutally delightful game of chess-if you could get them to do what you commanded. Her pieces quickly learned to trust her every command, even sacrificing the queen without complaint in one of her more brilliant strategic moves, as she won match after match against a number of wizened wizards at the pub.
But mostly she'd spent her money doing what she did best-drinking with the late-night crowd (wizards and witches, many of questionable integrity, with nothing more pressing in life than the location of the next party). Despite her near-nightly drunkenness, she arose early every morning for work, reviving herself with a cold shower and hot black coffee. Most days no one noticed any difference. But the day they did became the day Roxanne made her first enemy in the wizard world.
It began with a headache and a nasty scowl early in the afternoon. Roxanne's usual routine had failed to relieve her of the feeling that her head might split in two at any moment. She went about her work, numbly taking orders and clearing tables, when a couple came in-both tall and blonde-and took seats in a dim corner booth.
The gentleman instantly snapped his fingers tartly to call her to his service -Roxanne hated that. Such a gesture generally meant she'd not easily get along with the customer. She signaled to him that she'd be just a minute and turned to the bar to fill an order. He stood and snapped again, glaring heavily at her. She chose to ignore him this time, as she placed plates before a group of lunching witches out for a lady's day out.
He snapped a third time. "Waitress," he called impatiently. Roxanne turned her back, hoping he'd think she hadn't seen him, hoping he'd be annoyed-people like that deserved to be annoyed. But as she turned for the kitchen, he was there, in her face, his icy blue eyes piercing into her deep blue ones, his lips held tightly in a nasty scowl, his face so near hers she could nearly hear the veins popping in his neck.
"My wife and I would like to order a round of drinks, if you don't mind," he hissed through clenched teeth.
A moment of fear quickly turned to anger. Her mind began clicking, working out a plan to put this pompous pig in his place. She'd done it many times before in the muggle world-she'd had to learn to deal with bullies on her own from very early on.
"Certainly sir," she said, feigning sweetness and ignorance. "I'll be right with you."
After taking their orders she absently helped customers at several other tables, anticipating her big move. When Tom called her to pick up their drinks, she thanked him enthusiastically and marched across the room, placed the tray on the table, picked up the glasses and promptly poured them into the man's lap.
"Lucius!" shrieked the woman, standing and clapping a hand to her mouth, a horrified look on her face. Her husband rose so forcefully the table lifted and toppled to the floor, narrowly missing Roxanne as she hopped out of its path.
Then he was on her, one hand to her throat, his fingertips digging into her flesh, pressing her tightly against the wall. The other hand raised his wand as if ready to impale her with it.
"Get off me!" Roxanne growled through clenched teeth, digging her fingernails into his robed arm.
Tom rushed from behind the bar and several other wizards joined him, their wands drawn, as he approached. Roxanne couldn't be certain, and wondered about it often later, but it seemed that at least a few of these wands were pointed not at the man, but at her.
"Mr. Malfoy! Mr. Malfoy! Please!" Tom yelled.
The crowd waited in a tense and sudden silence. Lucius Malfoy had not taken his eyes from her face, but the look of malevolence cooled to a subdued rage as his grip on her throat loosened and his wand hand came slowly down.
"You're a lucky one-today," he said sneering at her.
Tom rushed forward and took Roxanne by the elbow, leading her forcefully behind the bar. "Beggin' your pardon, Mr. Malfoy. It won't happen again."
Malfoy just snorted, then held his arm out for his wife's hand, and they strode out of the Leaky Cauldron.
