OK, I can't seem to find my fic on the stupid page, so I'm giving you the next chapter. Go you!

I walk into the living room the next morning. Only to be confronted by the letter again. I flip it over; shove it under some things, before starting my morning rituals.

First, I pick out clothes, Muggle clothes. A tank top and jeans. Then I change into them, throwing a sweatshirt on top. I wash my face and fiddle with my hair, not exactly knowing what to do with its new length. The tug of the brush reassuring me that I'm still alive and well. For breakfast, I fix a bag of popcorn and turn on the Muggle news as I wait.

Popcorn in hand, I sit on the floor, staring at my modest fireplace, waiting. I've resorted to wondering if a misplaced wizard sparked the whole Santa Claus thing when Jordan Brown's head bobs into view.

"What's the assignment today, chief?" I ask, anxious to leave the house.

"I'm sending you to the Pier," he says exhausted. He looked liked he hadn't got a wink of sleep. "Get the stuff on the list. You've got the week off. Plan your answer to Draco, and think carefully."

I cocked my head to one side. How could he know? I had a P.O. Box at Headquarters and some people still sent my owls to the Browns, but I had told Draco to send all owls straight to me. I don't understand.

Jordan saw my confused expression and quickly added, "He came to Headquarters last night. Actually came, Jen. He was here, in my office. And he asked for your hand in marriage. I left the decision up to you, but you've got my blessing."

I still didn't understand. Why would Draco do that? I knew he came from an old family, and he was British, but going so far as to ask my stepfather and boss if he could marry me? Some things I was just never meant to understand.

Jordan sighed, "Go to the Pier, have fun this week, think, and don't let the Dark Side get you down. I'm going to get some sleep." And then he left.

I huffed. Yeah, think, great, have fun, sure, whatever. Well, at least going to the Pier would take my mind off of things. I went over to my side table and open the drawer to find my schedule for the Cal-Train. What? You don't expect me to take my car into town!

There was a train leaving in half an hour. Good, in and out quickly, just the way I like it. But Jordan said something about a list. I furrowed my brow in confusion. What list? Where? I don't see a list. Of course, just then, a letter dropped into my mail slot. Of course, it was the list, right on time.

I slipped on my black waistcoat, fumbling to put my wand into my inside pocket. Taking the list and the train schedule into my pockets, I went outside and walked to the train station.

***

In San Francisco, the biggest tourist attraction is Pier 39. Right of the bay with tons of stupid tourist shops and themed restaurants. The perfect place to hide the biggest wizarding community in all of California.

If one were to walk up past Bubba-Gump's Shrimp Company, one would find a plain staircase leading to a brown door. The sign above it is so faded; it's illegible so Muggles pass it off as a service door. These in the know, know better.

The door is heavy; I use my whole weight to push it open. Inside is an old German pub. Who would have thought the only German wizards in California would make this? Well, they did.

I walked in, smiling at the bar tender. We have an understanding, you know? I protect the community and he gives me free stuff. It's a lovely arrangement. Anyway, I don't stop for a chat; I'm on a mission.

I head straight for the bathroom. Inside, there is a broken hand dryer. I push the button with my wand. Immediately, I fall down a trap door in the floor, on to a slide. The darkness is heavy, almost suffocating. A light appears at the end of the slide and I prepare myself to hit solid ground.

But the hit never comes. I stop short, stuck only a few feet from the bottom. Typical, it always happens to me. I just don't weigh enough. I inch down to the light.

Emerging in the brightness, I look around at everything I can. I still have to walk a little bit more before I actually get to the stores. Right now, there is a plastic half pipe. The bay is pushing down on the corridor. The Pier is kind of misleading. It's not really a pier; it's under the bay.

I quickly cross the corridor, I've always been afraid that the plastic will clasp on me. After I'm (finally) inside the actual store part of the Pier, I look at the list. It's mostly books. And they couldn't get this in Montana? No, he had to send me something to do. Typical.