Ten years after I began at Hogwarts, Sebastian Sallow is back. And he's Professor Sallow now. He disappeared after the fall of Ranrok and Rookwood, after I lost Professor Fig, and after Ominis and I couldn't keep him from losing himself. But I never...
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'Your friend,' huh? It wouldn't be considered "warmth" by many, but knowing Professor Weasley, I know the intention behind her salutation. I appreciate the gesture.
Luckily, I don't have any schedule to adjust. A lazy Sunday was all I had planned for today. Maybe a visit to a nearby niffler den to procure any obvious antiques and jewelry ostensibly missing from local residents. Penny and I keep a Lost-And-Found-By-Nifflers basket in the shop for Hogsmeade residents, since I'm more than comfortable around the little rascals than most, and don't mind seeking out their clever little lairs. (The trick is to provide a hefty supply of biscuits to distract from my retrieving their loot.)
Penny gasps as she finishes reading over my shoulder. I'm not sure if it's Professor Weasley's invitation or the mention of her favorite House Elf that causes her to do so. "OH MISS APRIL! Penny thinks you must go now!"
She's more excited than I am. What news could Professor Weasley have to share with me? I haven't heard any rumors at the Ministry about anything going on at Hogwarts.
And I'm just too damn tired for this. Blood rushes between my legs and causes a familiar throbing of passion when I remember why.
How could I forget so quickly? My body silently groans from within.
I can't recall a time I've been so physically worn out from a dream.
Before my cheeks flush again, I throw my blankets off with a start and hop to my feet. Distract, distract, distract.
"Coffee first. Then Hogwarts. Want to join me?"
"Oh no! No, no, no, Miss April. Penny will do her duty and keep the shop." She's bashful. So it was the mention of Deek that excited her.
Sweet Penny hasn't taken a day off since I gave her the beloved straw hat she wears every day. I joke with her that she'd have more vacations and down-time if I hadn't freed her, as I would demand she take a break from time-to-time if it were up to me. But I respect her, and if she wishes to keep up our shop with her freedom -- and never visit Hogwarts to see the House Elf she's had a crush on for years -- then so be it.
"Whatever you say, Penny!" I laugh as I open the grand oak wardrobe in the corner. Snatching my wand, I swirl it around my body, causing my pajamas to appear seemingly from nowhere to hang themselves on a hanger in the wardrobe as other articles of clothing disappear and tighten themselves around me.
Even with the most powerful magic I've witnessed and the ancient magic I can wield, I never cease to be delighted by this. Since learning about my magical abilities, I've rarely changed my clothes the way I had to for the first fifteen years of my life. Why would I?
I tug at the laces on my brown, calf-high leather boots and secure the buckle on the belt that holds up my leather pants. I pat the sides to check the pockets: nab-sack folded to a slim square on my left, and a pocket full of pebble-sized beast-treats on my right. They're my own recipe of mashed apples, lacewig fly larvae, sea salt, and billywig powder. I haven't met a beast that doesn't go crazy for them.
My pocket knife, spare satchel, and collection vials are secure on the cross-body belt I secure over my cream colored linen shirt and crimson wool vest. Everything is tightly secure, which is just how I like it to feel. The corset I wear beneath everything helps with that. I was never one for skirts - I need the practicality of leather and pant legs for my job as an Agent and Liaison for the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. But I admit, I do love a corset. It feels a little like armor to me.
A gust of air blows through the window that tells me, despite being mid-August, it's a chilly morning. I toss my lightweight plaid, crimson topcoat on. It's perfect for this weather, hits me at the knee, and fits me like a glove. I turn to leave but Penny blocks me in the doorway, pressing Professor Weasley's letter to my chest.
With concern, Penny demands "Take this with you, Miss April, so Professor Weasley remembers why you've come!" She is too sweet.
"Alright, Penny," I answer, "I'll take it with me. Good idea." A genuine smile breaks across my face as I slip the letter into my topcoat pocket with one hand and reach out to squeeze Penny's hand with my other. "Thank you, my friend."
And like a breeze, I'm down the stairs of our living space, through the storefront of Stitches and Draughts, and off to the Three Broomsticks I go!
