August | Hermione Granger x OFC

Chapter Forty-One

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Day One

After much convincing, Robyn had finally got Winnie to agree to Apparate her to Malarkey Market. She hadn't even told her parents she was going anywhere, she was usually hiding away in the woods all day, anyway, like a wood nymph. Lloyd was at Theo's house, and Dylan was...somewhere. None of them would question her whereabouts (hopefully).

She landed rather unsteadily and opened her eyes to see a pub called The Pink Griffin right in front of her. With a glance around, the first thing she noticed was that it was very colourful (there were rainbows everywhere. Gay capital indeed) and very busy. Not necessarily with people, but with stalls. There was a statue right in the middle, of what she identified as a massive Murtlap. It made sense, she supposed, as they were mostly found in the coastal areas of Britain, and Brighton was on the coast. But Murtlaps were ugly. They were hairless water rats, basically, with weird tentacles on their back.

Why would anyone want to see a statue of that?

Plus, it reminded her of Peter Pettigrew.

Yuck.

Anyway.

There must have been at least fifty stalls scattered about. Malarkey Market? Makes sense (oh, the irony).

"Winnie will collects Miss Robby here at half past four, she will! And Miss Robby will nots be late, she won't!" Winnie commanded sternly like a mother might, but added, "Oh, and Miss Robby will enjoys herself!"

"Thank you, Winnie. Really. I owe you," she nodded gratefully, aware that Winnie was taking a risk for her.

"Winnie lives to serve Miss Robby!"

Robyn cringed at that but waved goodbye to the elf without another word.

Now, she was on her own.

Until Astoria got here, that is. Which should be any minute now. But first she should probably find Martha's Musicorum.

She navigated her way through the confusing cluster of stalls and eventually made it out the other side to a narrow cobbled street with shops on either side. Immediately on the left there was a branch of Gringotts, and across from it was the Museum of Muggle Curiosities. Huh. She'd have to check that one out. But she was distracted as her gaze moved to the shop next to it: Martha's Musicorum!

Okay, that wasn't so hard to find.

She approached and peered in the window, seeing a large record player and a stack of records.

'Let me guess,' she thought, 'the Weird Sisters and Celestina Warbeck.'

She stood primly, properly, and perfectly by the shop, waiting patiently for Astoria.

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Okay, Astoria was quite scatter-brained sometimes. And she knew her to show up late to things. But this was a bit far.

It had been an hour. And Robyn's patience was wearing thin. She leaned, annoyed, against the wall of the music shop and sighed heavily. Where was Astoria?

The girl had written to her yesterday (AKA, Sunday, one day ago), the thirty-first of July, saying to meet tomorrow (AKA Monday, which was today, AKA the day that follows when one says tomorrow), the first of August, at twelve noon. Not twelve midnight. Noon. And now it was one o'clock in the afternoon. Emphasis on after.