The Pureblood Princess | Sirius Black

|107| We Need to Talk

It is a well known fact for anyone who has spent any great amount of time in the Wizarding parts of London, that Diagon Alley is at its absolute busiest after lunch but before tea. Owls screeched, coins jingled, caldrons clanged. It smelled of sweat, new broomsticks, buttery sweets from the peddlers, and perfume due to an overly friendly shop associate down at Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions. People shouted to be heard, shoes scuffling across the cobbled pavement, mulling their way towards this shop and that, bumbling into each other as they did so.

It was just the sort of chaos Sirius would have revelled in. Unfortunately, Sirius was not there. And while the wild current of patrons might have energized him, it had the opposite effect on poor Adelaide.

From the moment she stepped foot out of the floo and into the street with her parents, she felt overwhelmed by the loudness, the business, the... muchness of it all and wanted nothing more than to run back to the safe, calm, serene quiet of her garden... And had it not been for Flora, or rather the promise of seeing Flora, she might have turned tail and done just that.

Filip led the way, his tall stature and blonde hair a beacon in the crowd. Adelaide followed behind, playing the role of the dutiful daughter.

He broke through the crowd and stopped in front of a rather busy shop (right beside Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour, Adelaide noted). It had a jingly yellow door, yellow paint on the trimmings and windows, and an elegant snowy owl perched itself upon a swinging sign that simply read: "Floraison Boutique," with painted flowers blooming between the lettering.

It was a very popular store.

Witches young and old were going in and out, mingling and smiling— ooing and awing, some with big shopping bags clutched in their fashionable fingers.

Mr. Fawley cleared his throat and shared a quiet look with his wife, wordlessly conveying some hidden meaning between them before turning his cool blue eyes to Adelaide. "Right then. I've been informed that absolutely none of your dresses will do for the gala next week—" he flashed a sly look at his wife/ informant. "You are to find a suitable ensemble for the event this afternoon so that Flora will have time to make alterations if needed."

An eager witch nearly knocked Adelaide over with a large shopping bag, but Adelaide couldn't have cared less, smiling wide. She was getting to shop at Flora's shop!

Mrs. Fawley glared at the person that nearly knocked her daughter over. "We'll be back to collect you before dinner—"

"Wait, you're not coming with me?" Adelaide asked the both of them.

"We have some business in town to attend to," Cathryn said cryptically.

If Adelaide wasn't so thrilled to have a bit of freedom, she might have wondered what sort of "business" it was that they had to "attend to", but as it was, she could hardly contain her excitement, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Mr. Fawley looked from his wife back to Adelaide. "Flora's been quite anxious to see you again."

Cathryn sniffed imperiously.

Adelaide grinned.

*

Despite the masses of patrons who meandered through Floraison Boutique, Flora was relatively easy to spot. Adelaide found her near the center of the room, re-folding a rifled through table of jumpers, wearing apple green robes, embroidered bellbottom trousers, and thick platform heels that added several inches to her height.

"FLORA!"

Adelaide slammed into the woman with a hug so forceful she nearly knocked them over into the jumpers, burying her face into Flora's flouncy fair hair.