Morgaine leaned over to look through the windows of the Apothecary next to Gringotts. She had used most of her healing herbs while dealing with the wounded at Camlann. And although she didn't expect there to be a battle anytime soon, a healer must always be prepared.
"I'm still trying to figure you out," a voice behind her said.
Turning her head, she looked up at her minder. "Oh, I didn't know that a curse breaker such as yourself would find me all that fascinating."
Morgaine didn't begrudge Ragnok's insistence that she didn't wander around the Wizard Enclave unescorted. Even if she glamoured herself as an older witch, it didn't matter as the goblins were bound by contract to protect her. Which was fine, a young girl shopping alone was not exactly common, and she needed numerous things—clothing and other personal items in magical and non-magical London. And Charlene Davis, a twenty-something woman, was assigned that job.
"You're obviously from a wealthy family for you to be assigned a bodyguard, or maybe there is an old family contract," Charlene continued to ponder as if not hearing Morgaine. She didn't even stop when the two entered the shop.
"Rheged isn't exactly one of the twenty-eight, although I heard you're from Cornwall and can't say I know many of those families. You act like a pure-blood but also want to shop in muggle London."
The young sorceress smiled as the woman continued to prattle on. The ingredients found in the bins didn't impress her. Most of them must have been sitting there for some time. Her witch's garden was sparse, so she supposed she would have to make do.
"And you don't exactly act like any eleven-year-old I have met."
Morgaine was about to interrupt her and claim that she was ten but stopped. Ragnok recommended that picking her old birthday might be better and just as valid as Rose's. If that was the case, then she turned eleven two months ago. With that, she went back to looking through the selection of beetle eyes.
"And the way the goblins treated you was bizarre. Oh, I know, maybe you're a Fey Princess in hiding like from one of those muggle books," she announced cheerfully, which almost caused Morgaine to stumble.
It was not too far off the mark, the young sorceress thought.
"Can you pass me a handful of those paper bags; I can't reach them."
"Sure," Charlene chirped, then stopped looking around the store, like suddenly realizing where they were for the first time. "Oh, you're an apprentice healer."
Taking the bags from her hands, Morgaine started to fill them with different bug parts. "What makes you say that?"
"Oh, you make the same face my friend Lauren has when we go to the market, and she's shopping for ingredients for healing salves. And you also selected them from memory." She shrugged. "Makes sense guarding you, I guess, with the Healer's Pax and all. Still odd."
Now that was an interesting and unexpected consequence of Morgaine signing the contract. Healer Halls, such as Saint Mungos, were not targeted during wizard conflicts because the last two Dark Lords, and those before, knew the goblins would keep the peace. Healers that attacked without provocation would be fair game, but otherwise, it would be an excellent way to get your head split by a goblin ax.
"Well, I hope shopping with me won't become too arduous."
Charlene waved her hands. "Oh, no, shopping is always fun. Better than sitting at a desk de-cursing some old witch's tea kettle. Anyway, the healers won't allow me back to work until the end of the month anyway."
She had mentioned earlier being hurt while on some expedition in Egypt to explain why she was selected. Other than having a troupe of goblins following Morgaine around probably wouldn't have been ideal.
Paying for the ingredients, the two left the store and headed toward one of the used bookstores near Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.
"Although you being a disguised princess is much more interesting."
"I'm sure," Morgaine smirked. "Oh, you don't mind going shopping in non-magical London?"
"Nor at all," Charlene said, pointing to her feet. " I got my trainers from a store on Oxford Street. Probably find whatever you're looking for there as well."
A voice calling to her made them both turn. In front of the Ice cream store was an older woman and a young girl waving cheerfully. Returning it, she quickly walked over to the two leaving Morrigan behind.
"And who is this?" The older woman asked with a small smile as the sorceress approached.
Charlene reddening a little. "Oh, sorry, this is Morgaine Rheged. Morgaine, this is my cousin Gwendolyn Davis and her daughter Tracey."
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"And you as well," The older woman replied, then looked thoughtful. "Rheged is an unusual name, and your accent is quite lovely, dear."
"Is she like your boyfriend's sister or something?" Tracey jumped in, giving her a small wave.
"First of all, I don't have a boyfriend. And I'm her minder, I guess," Charlene said with a shrug. Then seeing the confused expressions explained, "Morgaine's an apprentice healer."
"I can see why your current employers have you assigned to her," Gwendolyn noted. "So, what finds you in Diagon Alley today?"
"Clothes shopping mostly," Charlene answered.
"We are as well," Gwendolyn sighed. "This one keeps growing out of her things, and clothing charms only go so far."
"Wanna join us?" Tracey asked with a smile. "Please."
Charlene looked over at her charge, who agreed with a nod. "Sounds like fun."
It was closer to dinner before the four were finished or close to finish. A trip to the non-magical side of things would have to wait, but Morgaine didn't mind. After exchanging some of her gold for pounds, she was more than capable of shopping herself. Now the two younger girls sat off at their own table, enjoying a scoop of ice cream while the older women were busy discussing something.
"Grandma Davis is trying to get Charlene to settle down, especially after being hurt again," Tracey leaned over and whispered before putting a large spoon of dragon-berry-vanilla swirl in her mouth.
"Well, cure-breaking is a dangerous profession," Morgaine said after taking a much smaller spoonful of chocolate. "But she's enjoying it and, from what your cousin told me, is also very good at it."
"That's what Mom keeps telling Nana." Tracey shrugged. "Bit stubborn that one, but she's a Pellelles from York, so families much more traditional. But not in a bad way; Nana's not going to force Charlene into a marriage contract or anything."
It was expected in her time, so Morgain didn't have anything to say, although now, who knows.
"So, this apprentice thing, does it mean you're not going to Hogwarts?" Tracey asked, then looked unhappily at her empty bowl.
"Until quite recently, I hadn't planned on going," she answered truthfully. She wasn't even aware it existed. "But things have changed, so I'll find out like everyone else in the next few days."
Ragnok wasn't sure if Morgain was automatically added to the Book of Admittance, if Rose's name was still there, or both. If her name wasn't in the book, she planned on waiting a year and applying for the next. Apparently, first-year students must appear in the book, but anyone could transfer after that. However, the magical school in France didn't have such a requirement, so that was also considered. And since all of the mail addressed to her now will go to the Goblins, she will find out soon enough.
"I'm pretty excited. I tried to get my mom to take me to Ollivander's to get a wand early, to beat the rush, you know, but she said no," Tracey explained with a pout.
Charlene, who had disappeared, returned to find a seat next to the pair and set down a rather large ice cream sundae.
"Didn't work for me either."
"Hey, you're going to spoil your dinner," Tracey pointed out, looking toward her mother for confirmation.
"This is my dinner," she grumbled.
"Wait, is that allowed?"
"Not recommended, but she's an adult, although not exactly acting like one," Gwendolyn replied, looking at the size of the bowl with disapproval before taking a seat next to her daughter.
Charlene cringed, looking over at Morgaine, who just sat there with an amused smile. "So, what were the two of you talking about?"
"Hogwarts."
"Oh, are you also looking forward to it, Morgaine?" Gwendolyn asked.
"I am, although it might not be until next year."
"That's right; you're an apprentice healer." The older woman nodded in understanding.
The Sorceress felt a little bad about not correcting the misunderstanding. "So, I heard something about Houses?"