[thd] feet don't fail me now [basil]

Éilís was hiding. She had left Eir hours ago in Gringotts and not met back up with her, and without any money, she had ended up just wandering up and down the alley, idly looking for her. The woman hadn't been in Gringotts, and Éilís hadn't wanted to stick around long to look for her carefully what with the scary goblins still giving her funny looks. Back out on the street, there hadn't been much to do but window-shop. The sun was high now, beating down on her and making the act of standing around even less appealing than it normally was.

After resolving to go seek shelter in the apothecary (not wanting to get any more burnt than she already was from studying in the Caribbean all summer), Éilís had made her way toward the dark and cool shop that was on the other side of the street. She would just have to hope that Eir would know her well enough to go looking there eventually. But she hadn't made it far when she found her way blocked by a crowd filling the street, moving like a colony of ants on and off the makeshift platform they had built, individuals melting into the larger mass as they grew.

Her careful approach had turned into a quick dash to the side once Éilís had seen the signs. Slogans, painted in anger and to inspire justice, were shining off of large, color-changing posters. Some were hanging over the crowd, others simply being brandished menacingly at passers-by. Éilís wanted to backtrack, get away from the muggleborns who were fighting for rights; it was true that she could benefit from their cause, but Éilís feared being associated with it. She just wanted to stay out of such things, blend into the background. But down the other side of the street, another group was approaching: counter-protesters. She backed further away, wondering if she ought to dash into the robe shop behind her before she got caught in the middle.

@Basil Stringfellow

Basil rubbed the mark on his forearm absently, feeling fire run through his veins. He'd picked the wrong time to head to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, clearly, as a full blown rally had began in the center of diagon ally, full of screaming mudboods holding signs. They wanted more rights? Hadn't they won enough, winning the war? Hadn't they gotten what they wanted, the destruction of wizarding customs and the wizarding world as it had once been? Basil didn't know what they were fighting for, but it made him itch from the inside. It made him itch with his hatred and anger. He could feel it course through his body like blood.

He was moderately proud of himself for it, though. It was good that he still felt this way, after Jimin. He knew too many people who became blood traitors and abandoned the cause. Basil wasn't ready to be one of them, not yet. He had a thing for Jimin, that much was clearly apparent based on the way Basil had trekked into muggle London just for a visit. Still, Basil knew it was wrong. He tried to minimize the damage, really. It wasn't as though they could have children with each other, so they weren't polluting any blood lines. He still didn't quite think of them as equals, either. Maybe this would just be a phase. He could only hope that. If it was a phase then he could move past it. Besides, the talks about him and Rosaline had become more and more serious. The chances of them getting married was pretty good.

He pushed his way through the crowd, sticking up his middle finger in one of the protester's faces when they got a little too close to him. He pushed and shoved people to make it through, but finally ended up on the other side, near the robes shop.  He took a moment to get himself together when he noticed a girl  who appeared to be trying to disappear into the wall behind them. Not a protester, then? Maybe she needed help. Or had she been dragged here by her parents, perhaps? He hated the way muggle-lovers tried to indoctrinate their children and drag them into rallies. True, the girl wasn't that young—she was probably a third or fourth year by the looks of her, and looked vaguely familiar to boot. She probably attended Hogwarts with him.

He slid up next to her instead of going directly into the shop. “Bad show, don't you think?” He asked. “We wait too long to chuck them out and they'll riot in the streets like apes.”

Before she could decide, her decision had been made for her. A young man approached her from the side and Éilís jumped, instinctively sliding away from the potential contact with a stranger. Éilís looked to the side, wondering if she could leave now without looking stupid, but once again the situation progressed before she could reach a conclusion. His question gave her a reason to glance up at his face for the first time, and Éilís let out a near-silent gasp of recognition. She didn't know his name, but she knew who he was. A Slytherin student, newly graduated, and as intimidating in Diagon Alley as he had always appeared in the school halls. She didn't know what it was about him that made her feel so small, but she immediately found herself wishing she could sink into the wall upon which she was leaning and never emerge again.

It seemed like he was interested in a conversation, but Éilís couldn't figure out why on earth would he even want to be talking to her. She didn't quite understand what he was saying, but it sounded like he was suggesting all those protesters should have been kicked out of Hogwarts. At least she could say she had taken no interest in joining the crowd. "Uh," she responded nervously, not daring to look up into his face. What if he recognized her? What if he knew, somehow, she was muggleborn herself and started directing his annoyance at her instead? Éilís picked instead at the frayed hem of her robe sleeve, pulling nervously on the little threads and wondering if there was any chance she could get out of the situation by pretending to be a mute. Probably not. She'd already given herself away with that stupid grunt earlier.

"I suppose," she agreed after a moment, feeling, not for the first time in her life, that she was spineless. A girl with the backbone of a garden worm. Ought she to have laughed? He had been making a joke, right? Éilís let out a half-hearted chuckle, a few seconds too late and at a much higher pitch than was natural. "You know, I --" she paused again, twisting the end of her sleeve with more agitation than ever. "I'm supposed to be meeting someone -- " she edged toward the crowd, but hesitated again as she realized that the way was more blocked than ever by the growing crowd. It was hard to say which situation would be more torture.

Basil could feel the discomfort radiating off the girl, and it both annoyed him and made him feel bad for her. He wasn't yet sure which emotion was more overwhelming. She seemed nervous, and what that told him was that she didn't agree. Perhaps she was here as a part of the rally after-all, though he doubted it. She looked small, smaller than she had before. Had that been a reaction to him? If she was that shy, then she almost certainly wasn't part of a protest. No, he had been right in the first place. She certainly didn't seem to fit in with the rest of the crowd.

Basil hated blood traders and sympathizers, almost as much as muggleborns themselves. If that was the reason for her discomfort he wanted to stop talking to her and leave—but that would be too easy. She didn't seem willing to confront him, and that meant that he could make her as uncomfortable as he wanted, for as long as he wanted. That kind of cruelty seemed a fitting punishment for her (incorrect) opinion. He could nudge and prod her to tears, probably, if he really wanted to. That would be too cruel, though, probably. Not to mention that after the ordeal with Jimin, he felt a bit like a blood traitor too.

Of course he also felt a little bad for anyone who was that shy, especially stuck in a crowd as rowdy as this. Wasn't it now his job to take care of her? He thought, devilishly. “You want me to wait with you?” He asked. “I'll protect you from the heathens.” He offered, a bite in his voice daring her to say something to him about it. “Let's go in the shop. Somewhere quiet. I think if I hear one more rhyming chant, I'll be sick.” He motioned to the robes shop they were standing in front of.

"Oh, uh, sure," the Irish girl managed to get out, a definite decrescendo occurring with each word. It wasn't that Éilís really thought those in the crowd might harm her, and she certainly wouldn't have gone so far as to call them heathens, but the boy protecting her sounded better than him attacking her. He was rather like Deirdre to her in that way, she supposed, though terrifying in a much more up-front way even than Deirdre had seemed at the Bonfire night. She wished she simply never had to cross paths with Slytherins; they were a stressful lot to be around.

Éilís moved toward the shop her former classmate had indicated, slipping through the door with mixed feelings of uneasiness and relief. It was much quieter inside, with hardly anyone there to crowd her or run her over in their eagerness to join the rally. The environment would have been just to her liking, if she hadn't had to worry about the tall and domineering presence just behind her.

She didn't want to hurry inside, but putting some space between herself and her companion was on her priority list. Éilís moved away from the door at once, pretending to be interested in the dress robes on display in the window. Not that she had the budget for anything of the sort, or any real want for them. Such flashy items would only draw more unwanted attention, she assumed. Why couldn't it have been a book shop, or even basic wizarding supplies behind her? She actually needed a new quill, what with the end of summer looming and the prospect of more letters to Jaspar on the horizon, a return to last term's activity. Not a thing in the shop was affordable, what with only one sickle and two knuts left in her money pouch, but Éilís felt obligated to give business if she was hiding in here.

If she were braver, she might have asked the boy whether he needed anything. Instead she only looked over at him sideways, then glanced anxiously at the shopkeeper who was approaching them.

"Need any help, dears? Back-to-school shopping, are we?"

"Oh, uh -- " Éilís hesitated again, looking to the boy for guidance even though she hardly trusted him. "Did you need anything?"

Back to school shopping, huh. Basil was struck with a sort of sad, nostalgic feeling by the thought. He remembered coming to this shop before his first year at Hogwarts and getting his robes together.  He remembered coming in every year after that. He remembered the first time he got to buy a Slytherin scarf for himself from that very robes shop. He smiled fondly, thinking about it. It was nice knowing that he didn't have to go back to school this yea, but he almost wished that he was going. Jimin would be there, and Basil could certainly use another year with him to get his head on straight.

Basil looked around the shop, leaving the girl mostly alone. They would be safe in here. He actually did have business in the shop, but he always liked the look around. He saw the girl admiring the dress robes and smiled to himself. Those did look nice. He would probably have to buy a new set fairly soon, if the betrothal went through. His heart raced as he thought about what it might mean to marry his best friend. He cared for her a great deal. Before Jimin, he would've certainly said that he loved her. After Jimin, he wasn't sure, but he still didn't hate the idea of being married to her.

After a moment of looking around, Basil approached the counter. “Actually, I have an order put in. They should be ready for pickup?” He suggested. He pulled out a small satchel of coins to pay with. The witch behind the counter took his money and put it into the register.

Almost immediately after there was the loud pop of fireworks, confetti, and streamers. “Congratulations! You are our millionth customer!” She said excitedly. Basil quirked a brow. Certainly there had been more an a million students come into this shop in the long amount of time it was opened. Maybe they started counting over each time they hit the number. She shook his hand and gave him a balloon, and her assistant came around to take his photograph. He looked almost frightened. He passed the balloon to the girl when the ruckus ended.

“Have a balloon.”

For a moment, Éilís thought her heart had stopped. An explosive noise had filled the shop and her vision was suddenly clouded with confetti, streamers, and the bright lights of fireworks. Indoor fireworks. She recovered from her startle just in time to have her companion hold out a balloon to her. Éilís took it automatically, darting her eyes away at once as she reassessed the situation and any potential opportunity for escape from the horribly uncomfortable position she had managed to land herself in.

Salvation came in the form of Eir, her friend and something-of-a-replacement mother. The protest was still going on outside, but a few Ministry wizards had appeared now and were attempting to constrain the spread of the crowd. Eir was in the window, gesturing anxiously for Éilís to join her outside. "Thank you," Éilís said quickly, and darted to the door before the boy would have a chance to object to her departure -- not that Éilís really expected him to. Once outside, the Ravenclaw took the bag of gold her caretaker had managed to get from the Gringotts goblins on her behalf before allowing herself to be guided away toward the exit into the Leaky Cauldron and the safety of the muggle world beyond.

[the end]