((This chapter was written entirely by Eileen. Revel in its glory.))

Now, crushing her hands before her in impatience, Sabine nodded her good-byes and stalked off towards Honeydukes. Abby had told her to try something called a 'Cockroach Cluster', and yet Sabine expected that she would be passing up such a delicacy.

Cockroach Clusters, the only item on the magical market that is marketed directly to hags. This was Sabine's assumption, because having observed the treats in the 'Special Tastes' section of Honeydukes, she was fairly sure that she had never met a human that could enjoy such a thing and still fall out of the aforementioned category. Small wonder the bin was brimming, she reflected with a sneer. However, the blood-flavoured lollipop sample that she currently held in her mouth was surprisingly savoury.

Sabine had never actually been able to do the 'tourist thing' in her time in Britain; now she made up for that to some extent. It was not her purpose, however, and so Sabine waited until the shop was almost empty (not a difficult task, considering seventy percent of the children in town were currently ignoring their homework up at Hogwarts) to pay for her bouquet of lollipops and three chocolate frogs- those had been a sinful indulgence of hers since her schooldays, and were one of the few things in the shop that were marketed widely in America.

Mrs. Flume was exactly Sabine's kind of woman, tall and straight with an impeccable bun and a closed smile through lips that reflected the colour of the candy floss in the jar directly behind her. Despite this, Sabine was very amused by the other woman, and found her wit positively charming.

"It must be difficult around this time of year, with all of the kids up at school," Sabine pointed out, leaning on the counter as the two ladies each enjoyed a lollipop from Sabine's bundle: her own a deep crimson and Mrs. Flume's a lime green.

"Ah, but it isn't so terrible." The second's voice hinted at stereotypical French upbringing, in the tinge of her accent and her slightly irritating tendency to begin each sentence with a whimsical sigh. "They will start to come around October. In the meantime, I have the adults to keep my company with."

Sabine nodded her empathy, and gestured towards the general direction of the castle. "I can only imagine the sorts of stories that travel down that railway."

Mrs. Plume laughed- a laugh which, in Sabine's opinion, sounded rather like a hen's cackle- and patted her own dimpled hand against Sabine's pale one. "You would laugh, my dear, laugh! Only this summer there were students in here chattering about seeing strange sights in the Forbidden Forest the previous year- large areas of flora crushed flat and the like."

The conspiracy in her voice was amazing. "Why, I ask, are there students traipsing off to the Forbidden Forest? If my Violet! But, again, who knows what sort of things could be hidden in that awful place- why, I was terrified as a child!"

"Who, indeed," Sabine agreed, tapping her lollipop to the corner of her mouth. "Mrs. Plume, if you will excuse me, I have some business at Dervish and Banges."

Tea rooms were not exactly Sabine's cup of tea. That much was certain.

Madam Puddifoot herself was a medium height, but otherwise very large woman indeed with horrible white robes made almost entirely out of lace, and blonde curls that spilled from a white hat to surround a cherubic face with enormous blue doe-eyes, reminding Sabine very much of one of her favourite trophy wives in New York. Now, though, she portrayed none of the elder-sisterly gestures that she would around Mrs. Tobias Fynn and instead sighed with fading patience as the good Madam babbled about nothing in particular and continued to fill Sabine's teacup.

If there was one thing that could turn Sabine off to tea forever, it was the taste of orange tea with sugar. In fact, it was all the poor woman could do not to shudder with repulsion at each sip.

Yet Madam Puddifoot chattered on. "Oh! You're such a lovely lady, what an honour to have such a prim young maid in my tearoom, are you married? I spy a ring or two! Lucky girl, how romantic! When I was young I dreamed of honeymooning in Paris, I did! Have you ever been to Paris? What about..."

All of this left Sabine to nod and smile politely, keeping her eyes on Madam Puddifoot and her ears on the table next to her, which was the only reason she had not yet left...

"Quite a little club the Slytherins are forming, and a few of the Ravenclaws, too. You never see them alone now, always huddled together and whispering... anyone would think that House had divided between itself! Let me tell you, if Hogwarts develops rivalries within its Houses, the students will remove one another before anyone else has a chance to."

Letting out a deep breath, Sabine gave Madam Puddifoot her best smile. "Won't you bring my bill, Madam? I do believe I've annoyed you quite long enough."

Now, you mustn't get your hopes up, Sabine told herself calmly as she listened to the sound of her low heels clicking on the walkway of the shop labeled Dervish and Banges, the glittery pink Honeydukes bag swinging from her elbow. Not all of the residents of Hogsmeade will be as compliant as Mrs. Flume.

Upon that thought, Sabine pushed the door and was greeted by the tinklish of a bell and the smell of cauldron grease. "Hello?" she greeted the empty room, immediately hearing to retorts of two snickering shrunken heads distended from the ceiling near the counter.

"Well, if it isn't the little Yank we've heard so much tell about!"

"I've been in Hogsmeade half an hour!" Sabine replied indignantly.

"Word travels fast with us! We're rather ahead of the times!" This, of course, set both of them into fits of shrieking laughter, and Sabine was left to stare incredulously at them.

Finally, a short, corpulent bald wizard with bright yellow robes and a wide black belt scuttled in from the back room, booming a ferocious reprimand that set the heads mostly quiet, resigned to making small rude noises now and then. "Excellent, a customer!" the man bellowed heartily, wringing a wide-eyed Sabine's hand. "John Banges, at your service, my fine girl! What might I do for you?" One could hear the additional punctuation.

Immediately after having them released, Sabine folded her hands behind her back and locked her fingers protectively. "I was," she squeaked, clearing her throat before continuing in a composed tone: "I was hoping to look into a small copper cauldron, and a bit of friendly chat."

Having been informed in quite a loud manner that she had come to the right place for both (how did she guess?), Sabine was led to a shelf of cauldrons fitting her specifications, and after having examined and drilled the man on his knowledge of a few, Sabine slipped in her question in a casual manner: "Mr. Banges, have you experienced anything strange of late? I've heard rumours floating around."

"Strange?" the man laughed, making Sabine jump. "My fine girl, this is the wizarding world! Everything been running smoothly in this shop, if that's what you mean."

Chuckling lightly, Sabine shook her head. "I was only curious. Nothing?"

"Nothing!" agreed Mr. Banges with an enthusiastic guffaw. Sabine briefly wondered if he had been spending too much time at Honeydukes. "Been having good business lately- a good deal of cauldron bottoms sold lately. I always said they should have paid attention to that petition, eh? And my only Invisibility Cloak, gone at top price! Lucky day..."

Tuning out, Sabine cast her gaze over to the wall where hung a display of large, thick round discs. Fairly useless to her. With a sigh, Sabine offered Mr. Banges a cheerful farewell and a promise to think on the cauldron before exiting. Once outside, and having closed the door, she massaged the funnel of her left ear with two fingers. "Ow..."