Your reviews make my day. I come home tired and stressed and I see lovely reviews that make everything a bit better.
I figure, after this one, I'll update once a week. This is only going up because classes were cancelled last minute (I have an 8:00 class, they sent the email at 7:48 when I was already half-way to campus. Bad flooding just down the road from the college. Messy stuff).
Allons-y!
He sat down before she could say anything, gesturing to Tom at the bar.
Riley could do nothing but stare. Questions formed faster than she could think. She pulled her elbows off the table, afraid to get too close. As if any form of contact would whisk him away or something. A part of her refused to believe this.
"This is purely coincidental, right? This," she gestured to the table, to him, to herself, "didn't involve stalking, yeah?"
"Don't flatter yourself, love. I 'appened to decide I would like to not eat my own cookin', and thus figured where better to go than the Leaky Caldron. There're prob'ly several better places, actually. I recognized you, tha's all." He took a swig from the glass Tom placed in front of him.
"I don't…I…"
"Do us both a favor an' jus'…don't say anythin' for a bit, yeah?"
She couldn't exactly call it awkward; it wasn't like the morning after all those months ago, where they both had to take in what happened with the other. Complete strangers, together all because she wanted something back. Riley went back to her soup, looking at the paper but not really reading it. She sipped her Butterbeer (that skeptical, brief eyebrow raise of his at seeing her drink of choice didn't go unnoticed), trying to not look at him.
Scabior had taken the paper from her within minutes of his sandwich being placed on the table. He gave a slightly proud grin at seeing his name still on the list of missing, along with the wanted tag.
"Where'd you end up, love? Never found you again." He folded the paper, put it down on the table and looked right at her. His elbows were on the table, folded hands supporting his head.
"Camped for a while, lived out the attack on the castle."
"I would 'ave thought an Auror would 'ave wanted to be in the middle of the action." Another swig from his glass.
"I didn't have a death wish. I don't like being in battle. I'm more into investigation than confrontation." Riley leaned back from the table again, finished with her dinner.
"Could 'ave fooled me with the way you 'andled your…situation months ago." He pointed to her scarf, a pop of color against the grey shirt than brought out her grey eyes. "You said that thing was a reminder of 'ome?"
"Yeah." An unconscious gesture, her hands fell to the fabric, soft as ever. As if holding it would bring her mother back. "Although when someone is no longer who the used to be, I think the term home is lost. My mother was never the same after her trial."
"'ow is she now?"
Silence passed between them, and he couldn't help but constantly see the flicker of memories behind her eyes. Her fingers tensed around the fabric.
"Gone. I missed the funeral by some months."
"Sorry, love." He said it before he realized, more out of an odd kick of courtesy than anything. He'd been trying to get back into society, re-teaching himself basic social graces. If he didn't come off as a rude and vulgar Snatcher, maybe he'd be able to stay around a bit longer.
She waved a hand dismissively. "You didn't know. I'd much rather have the memories that I do and not have been there anyway." Riley looked up from her thoughts, eyes wide with curiousity. "And you, what happened at the castle?"
He shook his head. "Not 'ere, beautiful. Too many people to over'ear that."
Of course he was aware of the charges he was wanted for. If someone overheard the topic and figured out he was someone evading the law…acting polite aside, it wasn't hard to put together.
Riley found herself slightly concerned for him. When had the rationality gone out of her head? Was she actually afraid for him? He was a criminal. Plain and simple, his actions had hurt so many lives.
And here she was, worried.
"Besides, I think that's enough depressin' conversation for one night."
She nodded, reaching for her bottle and finishing it off. She was tired, her legs and back killing her from being on her feet all day. She got up, walking over to the bar and paying her bill with a nice tip. Scabior came up behind her, handing his money over the counter as well.
"Let me walk you 'ome, love. I've got 'onest intentions, I swear. I'm tryin' to get used to…"
"Being around people without them cowering in fear?"
"Bein' a part of society again. Which, considerin' the tables 'ave turned on me, ain't been easy."
She sighed, knowing it was a useless battle. She was too tired to bicker.
They walked to the Alley, Riley tapping the bricks behind the pub with practiced precision. She never got tired of seeing the bricks shift themselves into an opening, revealing a world hidden to those without the talents of magic.
They may not have had magic, but those Muggles knew how to augment themselves. Then again, she grew up with Muggle grandparents on her mother's side. Either way, she praised their talents.
No more words were exchanged between them as they walked up the cobbled street, far less crowded than it was a few hours ago. It looked so much larger without all of those people. And far quieter. Protective enchantments sealed in sounds so that Muggles didn't get suspicious (or think they were going crazy, hearing voices and not finding the source of them since most never saw the Leaky Caldron). In turn, those in the Alley didn't hear the sounds of London, the cars and the sirens.
She looked to a doorway just before the café; the stairwell that would lead up to the apartments. That way there was no traffic through the shop. It was red, with frosted glass that was enchanted to move and create designs every few minutes.
"This is me." She pointed to the door, and turned to face him.
He looked down at her, head cocked to the side.
She wanted nothing more than to invite him upstairs. Toss him into her bed; spend the night doing so many things. But that would end badly. Things like that became messy, fast.
There was one thing that bothered her though.
"Why?" She asked.
"Why what, love?"
"Why did you choose to sit with me? We don't know each other. I mean…on a carnal level, yeah, I suppose we do, but other than that we're strangers…"
He put a hand over her mouth. "Are you always this awkward?"
She stared up at him with large eyes and shrugged a shoulder in reply.
The hand was removed, hesitantly, a finger lingering on her lips for a moment.
"I don't exactly have any…people in my life. I saw you an'…I'm so sick of bein' by myself. I've been tryin' to lay low for months. I'm not one for socializin' much but the…bed-sharin' doesn't really cut it. Somethin' different."
She nodded, fishing for her wand at her hip. "I better…" she gestured to the door behind her.
"Yeah."
They stood there a moment, before Riley gave a small smile and turned around, went up the three steps and muttered Alohamora to open the door.
Scabior turned heel and started to walk away, a finger on his bottom lip as he thought. He wanted to see her again; ever since she had left that morning, something about her had bothered him, and he had hoped she would cross his path again.
And now, all because they had chosen the same place for dinner, they had met again.
It's not like he had a job to go to. He had nothing to do with his time. Maybe spending time with her, as a friend or otherwise, wouldn't be so bad. It'd be something to do, at least.
He turned around and walked back to the door, calling out just in time to catch her closing the door. She stopped mid-motion, sticking her head and upper torso through the opening. He stood on the stoop, just under the small awning over the door. This close, she caught the scent she had missed so much. Although it was devoid of campfire and in its place was a slightly musky scent.
"Can I come by tomorrow?" He kept his face neutral, like he did in the woods for all those months. "'round five?"
Riley thought for a moment; that was the busiest time; last minute shoppers wanted last minute coffee and tea. She had to count her drawer, and send off portions to Gringotts; one for her loan, one for her account.
"I'll be closing shop, but I don't see why not." Damn, why'd she have to be so short compared to him? Her eye level was his sternum, the middle of his chest.
"Good."
The marks he had given her with his ring had left faint white lines on her skin; clearly the metal of the ring had some sort of magical property. As if the memories she had weren't enough, she had to look in the mirror and see a stagger of marks down her front. She had gotten used to the one on her right cheek though, and didn't bother hiding it.
In the dim lighting the one of her face was barely noticeable; but he had given it to her, so he knew where it should be. He placed his hand under her chin, thumb resting on her cheek as he leaned in and kissed the mark. A feather-light touch, a graze of skin. She barely realized it when he pulled away.
"Tomorrow then, love."
He was off her stoop and back into the alley with the speed only a Snatcher could have.
Riley closed the door and locked it with a flick of her wand before slumping against it.