Norman did the best he could to get Eric presentable. The results looked pretty good, if one got past the fact that it was much shorter than he'd ever wore it for his entire life. In order to make it look like something other than a butcher's cut, it had to be taken down to an inch at it's longest. The result had a tendency to spring up unmanageably, but it was presentable.

That evening, the Wainwright house was bustling with people. The Peals had come out, as did the Moons. Professors Flitwick and Frugilagus made a point of attending, as did Riley and Amelia – two Makhab clan members he met at the Quidditch tournament. Many of the Romuls were there, as well. Norman had set out an impressive spread; he seemed to love playing host, and the more people, the better. Eric felt that he had far too many people looking him over, making sure that he was all right. When Dolores Umbridge arrived at the Wainwright's door, that was too much.

"Good evening. I wish to see Eric Sable immediately." Eric could hear her in the hallway, and he could feel his innards twist. Dolores was about as welcome as seven days of bad weather. His previous encounters all turned out extremely badly; considering recent events, he had no reason to believe that this would turn out any better.

To Eric's dismay, Roger invited her in, every bit the gracious host. "Norman: find Eric. Inform him that he's wanted in the parlor." Eric took the opportunity to get as far from the front hall as he could, hiding out in the attic.

This worked only briefly, when Norman popped his head into the loft. "I'm sorry, young master, but your exit was in such haste I couldn't help but hear you climb the steps."

Eric was in a panic. "I'm not facing her, Norman. She's going to grill me about the last week."

Norman, however, smiled broadly under his moustache. "We have no intention of forcing her on you; quite the opposite, in fact. You see, when Master Roger told me to 'inform you', that was precisely what I was to do – inform you that you were wanted, so that you could escape." He walked across the loft to a back exit. "This will lead to the kitchen where you will meet Miss Naomi. She will take you for walk, so that you can unwind."

Barely pausing to express his thanks to Norman, Eric bolted down the stairs, grateful for the chance to get away from the crowd. His exit was stopped short, however, when he saw Naomi. Although it was the same dark cloak, the tight sweater, dark pants and spiked boots gave her an appearance he really wasn't used to.

Flipping on a set of sunglasses, she grabbed Eric's arm. "What are you waiting for – we've got to go!" She pulled him through a rear exit where Sheena was waiting, along with Dorian and Tylena. "I've been showing them the city, and they've been showing me how to enjoy it. To Gotham!" Eric soon found out what she meant as they bounced from place to place, seeing all sorts of strange and wondrous things.

'Gotham' turned out to be a dimly lit gothic nightclub with multiple levels. The four of them were allowed in the lowest level, where tables and a dance floor were waiting. They had barely sat down before a ringing sound caught Naomi's attention. Grabbing Eric by the arm, he dragged him away from the table. "Come on, we're dancing!"

Eric was suddenly terrified. "But ... I don't ..."

"Let me worry about it – you just follow along." The song did have an easy beat to follow, and Naomi wasn't going so fast that Eric couldn't keep up. He quickly forgot where he was as the song began it's chorus.

I heard a rumour – it was just a rumour : I heard a rumour – what have you done to her?

Naomi circled about Eric, making sure he wasn't too lost. His feelings at this were mixed. He had made it back from wherever his captors had held him all on his own; he didn't need a babysitter. On the other hand, it was clear that she knew how much her uncharacteristic openness rattled him. It was nice to see that it mattered to her.

Her dancing was a subtle swaying, which was extremely easy to follow. The song itself had a tone and rhythm that was infectious. Eric followed along as best he could, trying his best not to draw attention to himself, though it was easy to get lost in the moment. Then, the song was over – much too soon for Eric's liking. He was just getting into it.

Dorian greeted him warmly when they returned to their table. "Welcome to Gotham, where the strange and unusual of all worlds meet!" He gestured about. "Most of these people are muggles – some of them call themselves witches, wizards, or even vampires. The real wizards and witches aren't that obvious."

Eric turned to him. "Why not? Surely these muggles could accept the truth?"

Naomi turned to him. "Maybe – maybe not. The world has gone on real well with the status quo. Why should we kick it? Besides: the owner is a wizard with a strict No Magic rule. We cast one spell and we can't come back."

Eric nodded then looked about, finally having a chance to take the place in. The hall was mostly dark, with people moving this way or that. They were mostly dressed as if it were a medieval Halloween; or at least what they think it would've been like. Capes and corsets abounded, almost all of them black or a deep shade of red. Painted faces and poor lighting made it impossible to figure out what these people would have really looked like. Perhaps this was their way of hiding.

They spent the night at Gotham, periodically dancing, snacking, talking or playing games. The constantly changing crowd was intriguing, and the group did take breaks in quiet corners to let Eric catch his breath periodically. As the time passed midnight they decided that they had to return home, though the path they took passed a number of London nightspots, which allowed them to watch muggle crowds as they milled about the streets.

Finally arriving at the Wainwrights, Sheena drove off with Dorian and Tylena, leaving Naomi and Eric at her back entrance. Halfway back to the house, he stopped her. "I want you to know: this was the best night I've ever had."

Smiling in his face, she stepped up to kiss him. It was slower, not as clumsy as last time. "I've had time to figure out how to do this right."

She would've kissed him again if the light hadn't snapped on. The porch was lined with adults. The Wainwrights were holding their expressions, while Norman stood in the back quite stoically. Grandmother Frona was smiling wickedly, while Lymeon Peal seemed more amused than anyone. Mrs. Peal, however, radiated the fact that she was extremely upset. "Eric, we're going home... now."

The trip back to Diagon Alley was made in uncomfortable silence, which Eric didn't totally understand. Maybe kissing Naomi in the dark wasn't the most noble thing to be caught doing, but it wasn't like they were doing anything that extreme. Clareone's reaction, however, was more than just excessive. When they finally arrived at the leaky cauldron, she marched him swiftly through the alley and all but locked him into his room without a single word.

Willy, however, was a much more welcoming sight. "Master Eric! You're back, and you are safe!" The fresh milk and cookies he prepared eased the edge off of the night. He'd apologize in the morning for upsetting Mrs. Peal. Hopefully, that would settle things.