{grimli} run, little rabbit, run [dash]

It was late when Niska finally emerged from the grocery store. And it was raining. He pulled his collar up to guard against the howling wind and he tucked his grocery bag under his arm, careful not to smash his new carton of eggs or bruise any of his peaches or crush his new bag of tea leaves. When he had left the shop that evening the air was heavy with rain, the clouds smelling like they were just about to burst. So as he trudged through the storm he was glad he had thought to dress heavily. A little rain never hurt him, but this was edging toward a downpour.

Even in the storm there were people out and about in Knockturn Alley. Some didn't seem to notice it was raining. He shoved past some of the slower-moving groups, knowing that if he wasn't aggressive someone might target him. In Knockturn Alley it was important to have a scary expression and confidence, never letting your guard down and never appearing weak. This was one of the most sketchy places he'd ever lived in his life, and that was saying something. But maybe this was where he belonged, with all the other monsters and demons. The shop did have a very homey feeling, no doubt Archie's work, and he didn't mind having to wade through degenerates and creatures of the night to get there.

He shifted the packages under his arm, making his way into the western part of Knockturn Alley, coming up on his shop standing all alone and creepy-like on this fine gloomy night. His hand was in the pocket of his pants, reaching for his keys when her heard a noise behind him. He turned and squinted through the storm, shielding his eyes from the water. It looked like a group of three dark figures huddled together a ways down the street. Grey and red magic hung suspended in the air around them, too far off to taste, but they weren't powerful enough to bother him. In the rain, the dark figures looked like ghouls, their loose black clothing sagging from the water, their gaunt white faces looking eerie in the darkness. Whatever they were doing, it wasn't his business, so he turned back to his door. Niska was about to ignore them, unlock his shop and get out of the rain, when he heard another sound, barely loud enough to carry over the rain. A voice.

Quickly he turned around, looking at the ghouls again, this time more carefully. He wasn't sure, but he could make out a small figure standing in the middle of the three of them. Had another student wandered into Knockturn Alley? On a night like this? The voice had sounded small and female, and Niska cursed under his breath. He dropped his groceries by the door, and took off toward them with his wand drawn.

"HEY!" he roared, his voice sounding menacing even to him. He hadn't heard that rough, slightly animal, sound in months. When the ghouls saw him they scattered like scurrying little beetles disappearing into the shadows and alleyways. He jogged up to the small person they had left behind. Niska looked around, making sure they were gone and that no one else was around before he looked down. He couldn't see much on the rainy night but he could tell she was a young girl, a little bit shorter than him. He also noticed that there was something bizarre about her magic and why he couldn't sense it earlier. Not only did it feel strange, but it was flickering softly like a candle in the wind. He'd never seen that before. What the hell?

"Hey, what the hell are you doing out here?" he snapped over the roaring rain, taking off his jacket and draping it unceremoniously on the girl's head. "Don't you know it's dangerous?"

Dash had been a ball of nerves all day. She hadn’t been sleeping properly, either, and was exhausted. It had been a while since the brunette had left Ruari’s house for anything very self-directed. She’d had to keep going to work, obviously, but aside from that, the only times she’d really gone out were when Aline or Ruari had coerced her into going to some social event. She didn’t blame them. It was supposed to help. She was doing a lot better nowadays, though everything still reminded her of him. Work wasn’t helpful because things had been very repetitive lately. After she’d transferred out of the reserve that she and Sindri had been working at together for several years, the girl had started working with magical sea creatures. It was only different enough to be distracting for a short while. The novelty of the new workplace wore off very quickly. Today, though… for the first time in a long time, the brunette had something else to think about.

She watched the clock anxiously, shifting her weight uncomfortably from side to side as she tucked strands of long brown hair off of her pretty face. It was late enough, she decided. The witch rushed to the nearest window and glanced out with wide eyes. It was dark and stormy. The temperature had been dropping every night… summer was decidedly over. Three nights ago, Dash had had a vision. It was the first one she’d had since she’d dreamt about Ruari and Hal, and that had been months ago. The slender witch often wished that she could completely control how these things worked, but for the most part she had accepted her fate. There was a lot of acceptance that came with being a seer. Dash knew that resisting what she was would not end well for her. It was like suppressing magic and pretending not to be a witch; pointless.

For the first time in years, Dash had dreamt clearly about herself.

She’d foreseen herself speaking to a man she’d never met before in her life, and she didn’t know why, but the woman was sure that it was supposed to happen tonight. She was anxious about it, but also felt compelled to act in accordance with what she’d seen. Ruari might have laughed at the vision she’d had about her and Hal, but Dash knew better. She knew the difference between regular dreams and true dreams. Most people that she knew would feel uncomfortable about having so little control over their lives, but Dash had long since come to terms with the fact that she was an instrument of fate. A grain of sand carried by a river. The brunette waited a little longer before grabbing her bag and making her way to the door. She hesitated with her fingertips on the cold door handle, her attention drawn to the coat she’d left draped over the couch nearby. It was raining outside. She’d freeze. But… in her dream, she hadn’t been wearing a coat, so she decided to leave it. The girl took an umbrella and made her way outside.

It was one of those self-fulfilling prophecies. The kind of thing that she didn’t like to think too much about. Dash knew that if she hadn’t had the vision, she wouldn’t be here right now, trying to make her way through the rain and the dark. She wouldn’t be rushing to reach her date with fate. She wouldn’t be – oof! – the girl’s shoes slipped against the wet ground and she fell. If she hadn’t had that vision, she wouldn’t have slipped over and grazed her knee, that was for sure... Dash picked herself up, irritated and embarrassed at what had happened. She had a quick look at her knee, but while the skin was grazed and bleeding a little, it wasn’t too bad. It would have been much more practical to wear jeans, she knew… But she hadn’t been wearing jeans in her vision. The girl wiped her hands unceremoniously against the soft cotton of her dress and quickened her pace. The cold wind and stinging little droplets of water were far from pleasant, but she pushed on.

Like most of her “visions” (the girl wasn’t too fond of the term, because it implied a kind of clarity that she did not associate with them), she’d had to guess and interpret most of its meaning. But she’d known that it would be tonight. She was absolutely certain. The brunette had been tired and wired all day, but by the time she made it to Knockturn alley she was almost completely serene. She was so determined to get to where she was going that she didn’t notice any of the shady looking people hanging around, or the couple of people that noticed her presence there. It was a type of resignation, she decided, as she made her way through the place. The girl had goosebumps by now and her shoes were wet. It was uncomfortable. On one hand, she was regretting not taking her coat, but on the other… she knew that she couldn’t have. It would have felt wrong. She shivered in the breeze. Dash closed her umbrella as she came under the awning stretched out from several shops.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that the willowy young woman almost bumped into a man who’d very obviously stepped out to purposefully cut her off. She froze, unhappy with the distraction. Her shoes slipped a little on the wet, cobbled ground. The girl wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t think of anything to say. The man wasn’t alone, either. She looked up at him with wide eyes and felt like she was in some kind of daze. The seer hadn’t even considered that other people might interact with her on this trip. She was fulfilling a blurry prophecy… performing actions allocated to her by fate. What were they doing? The dim lighting and miserable rain made for quite an intimidating mood as three tall men approached her. “Excuse me,” she said, finally, but one of the men had started talking and his deep voice overrode hers.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here… all alone?” he asked. His cliché words were met with dark chuckles from the two behind him. It was all… wrong. Dash was second-guessing herself. She felt sick. She was in the right place, and she was sure it was the right time. The girl glanced behind them distractedly. “Why are you in such a rush? Somewhere to be?” More chuckles. This was frustrating. The man closest to her put a rough hand on her shoulder with an antagonising sneer, and laughed when she jerked back and knocked his hand away. The brunette could barely think of something to say to them. She took a couple of steps backward, but the men moved forward to match. She was in danger, and she knew it. The girl didn’t have her wand out. She wondered what would happen if she screamed. If anyone would do anything about it. She took another step away from them, her eyes wide like a startled deer. One more step brought her out of the protection of the canopy overhead and into the rain. The shock of it made her gasp; it was freezing, and immediately she was soaked, but she felt like she couldn’t look away from these men. Maybe she should run, but she couldn’t. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be.

A loud yell made her jump.

Everyone looked towards its source, including her assailants. Dash probably should have taken the chance to run, but she just couldn’t. Her legs were locked into place. A dark and imposing figure was running towards them, and the men around her seemed to scatter and melt away into the night as he approached.

What the hell are you doing out here?

The darkness masked his features, but she recognised his voice immediately. The girl had experienced something similar with Aline’s friend Verity, and she had to remind herself that while it might feel like he was someone she’d met already, he had no idea who she was. Her big hazel eyes studied his features and she was content with what she saw. It felt familiar. The girl blinked as he covered her with his jacket. She realised that she was shaking, and wondered disconnectedly how much of that could be attributed to the cold. “I was meeting someone and I was followed,” she lied smoothly. The words fell out like they’d been rehearsed, and she supposed, in a way, they had been. She’d been given these lines in her dream… right now she was just reciting them. There was a crease between her eyebrows and the girl watched his reaction to her words. "I... I don't have my wand," Dash continued in a small voice, glancing down at an upturned palm before balling her hand into a fist to try to stop it from shaking. With her other hand, she clutched at his jacket helplessly, a little lost as to what would come after she said what she had to say. "We've got to get inside," she said weakly, making rather intense eye contact with him again, "I think there are people looking for you."


Sorry it's so rambly x____x Let me know if I need to change anything at all <333

Someone is looking for you. At that, Niska narrowed his eyes, looking her over hard. This was one of those situations where his instinct and his magus were going in opposite directions. Part of him was saying, in a very dry voice that sounded like Kranovich's didactic but menacing drawl, that she shouldn't know who he was and for her to be here, right outside his shop, was very suspicious. The other part of him, the one that could feel the gentle whispers of her flickering magic even in the heavy rain, was telling him that she wasn't someone who used any sort of dark or harmful magic. But he had been wrong before.

The rain was falling heavily around them, soaking through his shirt in a matter of seconds. He looked the girl over one more time. If she had crucial information he couldn't just ignore it. "Alright, I'll hear you out, but if you try anything...well, just don't." He grabbed her through his jacket, careful not to touch her shivering skin or be too rough. In the storm he could only make out her silhouette, and she had small, delicate frame that made him feel like he might accidentally snap her in half as he kept a firm grip on her.

He led her back to the shop, stooping to pick up his forgotten groceries. The bag felt wet, but he wasn't sure if it was from the rain or his eight broken eggs. Niska dug the keys back out of his pocket and unlocked the door, ushering her in, out of the storm and into the dusty shop. He locked the door behind him then walked past her in the dark, gesturing her to walk close behind him so she hopefully wouldn't run into anything in the dark. The only light in was the dim glow of a lone street lamp three shops down.

He stopped in front of one of the bookshelves and waved his hand, sending a light pulse of magic into the  wood. There was a light clicking sound and the shelf melted into the floor, revealing the long dark staircase that wound upwards. "Stay close and watch your step," he said gruffly, as they started to ascend. He listened to her little footsteps echo in the silent stairwell. The were quiet and soft, like a kitten's. Niska's own footsteps were almost silent but he could see how his might dwarf hers if he wasn't paying attention.

They came upon the door to his apartment and he unlocked it with a look back at girl, and the wooden door swung open into his pitch black apartment. It seemed counterintuitive to bring a stranger inside his home, especially if he was suspicious of them, but the shop was too cluttered, too full of impromptu weapons. He could control the environment if he was in his own apartment. Fewer variables, familiar ground. Niska waved his hands, seeing the streak of magic in the air for a second before it took off around the room, illuminating each light one by one until the room glowed a soft yellow and white.

He turned around, getting his first good look at the girl. She was smaller than him, but only barely. Her long brown hair was plastered to her face from the rain and her skin had gone ash white, no doubt from the cold. But it was when he looked at her eyes that he started to consider that she might not be dangerous. She had large eyes, not freakishly huge like Amaranth's, but nice and doe-like-- full of innocence. It twinged his stone heart a bit, but he ignored it. What he was looking at now was her magic; it glowed around her like a soft peach halo. Almost angelic, but not...quite right. There was something weird about it. About her.

"You'll catch your death if you stay in those wet clothes," he said, going to his wardrobe and taking out his worn black sleeping robe. It was long enough and big enough that he wouldn't be strung out as a warning to perverts everywhere. He held it out to her. "The shower is in that room over there. Leave your clothes by the door and I'll set to drying them. Once you warm yourself up you can come out here and say your piece, but I won't have you freezing to death before I can get it out of you."

I super loved your post. I drafted this up on my phone so it might read a little weird...my bad.

Dash hesitated after she spoke. His expression had changed instantly from a concerned kind of disbelief to suspicion, and she wasn’t really surprised. Whatever she had been about to say next died on her cold lips. The brunette tried to smile, but she barely managed a grimace before he was speaking and steering her in the direction of her shop. This, too, felt like something she had little control over. She was shaking like a leaf, but by now it really was only the cold behind it. She felt completely safe at the moment. “Of course not,” she agreed quickly. Her voice was soft, and she was mildly surprised that he’d even had to say it. Did she look like a threat to him? Vaguely, the girl wondered what kind of people he was used to dealing with if he had to say that to her now. She tried to push some matted, dripping hair off of her face as she went compliantly to where he was leading her.

Her shoes had no grip and she almost slipped again as he leant to grab the bags he’d dropped to save her. Her muscles were already sore from the tenseness that came with being so cold. She steadied herself physically, but there was little she could do to steady herself emotionally. The brunette felt simultaneously like she was exactly where she was supposed to be and like she was completely out of her depth. The girl didn’t have dreams about herself. She hadn’t even dreamt that she and Sindri had broken up, just that he’d been without her and happy. The memory caused a twinge of something in her chest. Sadness? She wasn’t sure. She knew she’d done the right thing, and months had passed now. She didn’t want to think about it. The girl watched her rescuer (was that the right term?)… with interest. Everything was so much duller now that it was happening in real life. When she’d had her vision, she’d seen him close up and in high definition. Everything had been heightened. The smell of the rain, the little details of the collar of her own dress… comparatively, this dimly lit, rainy night was like experiencing things with a dampener on all of her senses. It was disorienting.

The room she stepped into was dry and smelled a little dusty. She hadn’t seen inside the shop in her vision, but she remembered the smell. The girl was dripping all over the floor and felt a little guilty about that, but then again so was he. The brunette crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself for warmth. She hovered hesitantly by the door until he gestured for her to follow him. Her dress was thin and a little see-through and she was very self-conscious about it now that they were inside and she actually had a moment to think about what she was doing. She followed him silently, totally unsure of whether or not she should try to speak, and uncertain about what she would say. How could she explain that she’d dreamt about their meeting? That she’d left her coat and wand at home purposefully because in her dream, that was how it had happened? It wouldn’t make sense. Dash followed him in silence. Would he even believe that she was a seer? Usually, the girl tried not to get involved with the subjects of her visions, especially when she didn’t know them. Most witches and wizards didn’t even really believe in the Sight.

He glanced back at her before he opened the door. She tried her best to look calm and non-threatening. It wasn’t very difficult. The girl tried not to think of things that she undoubtedly associated with him because of her vision (the smell of the place downstairs, the texture of parchment, the way she imagined his hair would feel or that strange sense of heat that hadn’t yet seemed to translate into anything literal) as she followed him in with some trepidation. The fact that neither of them had said anything since entering the place was making her uncomfortable. She wished that she could read minds so that she could get some idea of what he was thinking about her. When it came down to it, she was just a random girl who’d turned up at his house and demanded to be let inside. She ran her fingers through her straggly locks again with shaky fingers, tucking it behind her ears. She must have looked like a total mess. Soaking wet and dripping all over his floor.  Niska’s next words confused her. He didn’t seem like the type who’d be so accommodating to suspicious strangers, but she reminded herself that she really had no idea what kind of “type” he was anyway. The apartment gave some clues, but she tried to dismiss it. She was supposed to be here tonight.

The brunette nodded, not daring to say anything at all in case he took it the wrong way. His last words almost sounded like a threat, and she couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. She was grateful that he’d helped her outside and wanted to say so, but right now she just wanted to be dry. Dash took his robe thing and went to the bathroom that he’d pointed out for her. “Thank you, Niska” she answered finally, before disappearing into the bathroom. The brunette hadn’t even noticed her slip up. She caught her reflection in the mirror and blinked. She looked half-drowned. Her hair was matted and clung to her cheeks and neck and her skin was cold and clammy and covered in goosebumps. The girl turned away, hovering by the closed door instinctively and started peeling her clothes off.

It was only now that she considered the fact that her vision might have led her to something rather sinister. How could she know? The fact that she remembered what he looked like and that she knew his name shouldn’t have really been so comforting, but she couldn’t help the way that she felt. Dash had always been an emotional creature, led entirely by instinct and a draw towards harmony and balance. She wasn’t suspicious by nature at all, but she could see why she should be. Why was it so easy to walk into a stranger’s house in Knockturn Alley in the middle of the night? Because he didn’t feel like a stranger. Of course. She quickly wrapped his robe around her to leave her wet clothes outside the door and went back to the shower. The girl hadn’t planned on it, but now that she was right there it did seem awfully tempting. Her lips were and unusual shade of blue.

She turned the taps on and hopped in quickly. It was hot and the room steamed up quickly. Dash only took a few minutes in there. Being naked in a strange man’s house felt made her feel vulnerable, and she didn’t want to be impolite either.

When she stepped out, she could feel her fingers and toes again. It was a nice feeling. The brunette dried herself and wrapped herself up in his robe quickly, making sure she was totally covered before opening the door again. She hovered by the door, not wanting to impose on the rest of his house. She’d lost a lot of her earlier confidence in her actions and was now feeling horribly drained and rather unsure of the reasoning behind following him up here. What was she planning on doing? The floor was cold against her feet, but she was less distracted by that detail than she might have been, because he was right there. “Thank you for everything,” she told him with a small, grateful smile. “I promise I’m not here to kill you.” The willowy young woman was attempting a weak kind of joke, but she had a feeling that it wouldn’t come across as casually as she wanted it to.  In the better lighting, she studied his face. Heavy jawline. Strong features. He was handsome, she supposed, in a very masculine way. Her gaze fell to the floor for a moment and she crossed her arms again. "Would you mind if I sat down?" she asked softly, a small frown appearing on her pretty face as she made eye contact again. It was hard not to keep studying his features. Seeing him in real life was almost like seeing a person that she'd imagined come to life before her.

He watched the girl disappear into the bathroom, listening for the sound of the door closing securely behind her. Once he heard her shuffling inside the bathroom he took off his own shirt threw it on the table on his way to the icebox. His skin felt icy cold from the storm, but as he put a kettle on the stove and then a small pan of milk on next to it, the cold receded. His own nuclear-fusion magic rushed through his veins and warmed his skin. He could feel his back and shoulders prickling with heat, like he was standing in front of a fire. By the time the milk on the stove reached lukewarm, his whole body was running at its normal, almost-feverish state.

When the bathroom door opened a minute later, a little pile of clothes appeared by the door, like he had asked. He left his wand stirring the milk and stooped to pick it up. Out of curiosity, he unfolded the dress and held it out in front of him. It was strange to handle such little a delicate and girly piece of clothing. He shook his head, then quickly crossed the room to hang her dress and his clothes by his bed. He pulled a dry pair of pyjama pants on, then a normal sleeping shirt. He was still feeling unsure about what to do with the strange girl in is house, many of his instincts telling him it was a classic honey-trap. No one ever suspected beautiful women.

Niska stood over the pan of milk, stirring it slowly until it became frothy and hot. He turned the heat lower and retrieved a jar from his cabinet, scooping out the dark brown powder into the milk. He heard the water in the bathroom running and he was glad. The girl had looked like death was about to get her, and that was not a look Niska liked to see anymore. He had been surprised when she said his name, but it only lasted for a few seconds. If she had sought him out it made sense for her to know who he was. But the question that was starting to make him a mite twitchy was just who had sent her. She was British, from the way she spoke and moved and held herself. He was relatively new it the country, only a little more than a year, so he didn't have time to make enemies properly.

By the time the girl came out of the bathroom, the milk had turned a rich brown color and was thick like cream. Niska tasted a spoonful, added a little more cinnamon, then took it off the stove. As he did this, he glanced at her, meeting her eyes for a moment. It looked like his robe had swallowed her up, but there was color back in her cheeks. Once again her magic was flickering, almost as if it was about to go out. Not only that, but it tasted a a little dusty, like orange marmalade. He was still sure than something was weird about her magic, but it was so quiet and changing that he could never get a good hold on it.

He wordlessly pointed to the kitchen table, for her to take a seat there. She was talking, her voice soft, kinda like he was a wild bear and she was trying her best not to stir him. He worked at the counter for another silent minute, pouring the thick chocolate drink into a mug and stirring a cup of jasmine tea for himself. He brought it to the table and put it down in front of her. "Put some meat on your bones," he said. "Looks like the wind'd knock you over. There's a little firewhiskey in there to warm the soul, old Russian secret. I got tea if you'd prefer that, though." Niska eased himself into the seat across from her, taking sip of his tea, watching the green leaves swirling on the bottom. "So, what's your business with an old hermit like me? I've got a lot of enemies, and maybe a few allies left still; which one do you represent? Who's out looking for the big bad wolf?"

The girl took a seat at the table as instructed. When he placed her drink in front of her, she felt the heat from his skin. It was familiar too, and she almost had to stop herself from reaching out and touching him to make sure that it was real. Dash blinked. It wasn’t as bad as it had been the last time she’d had visions about a person she’d never met. When she met that girl, Dash had known far too much about her and her family for anything to be comfortable. She’d known all of the girl’s expressions and the tone of her voice and matched the smell of orange peel with the way that she talked. She knew what Verity’s hair would feel like if she touched it. It was surreal, and the dullness of reality compared to the sensory overload of her visions made her feel like perhaps reality was the dream, and she was only really awake when she shut her eyes, and saw...

That thought pattern would lead, inevitably, to madness.

This time wasn’t quite as bad as that in that she hadn’t had multiple visions regarding Niska’s life for quite some time before now. She didn’t feel quite so much like he was a character in a book she’d been reading who’d suddenly sprung into existence. Still, little movements and expressions he made had her feeling like she was experiencing déjà vu. Her visions weren’t clear, but she remembered distinctly the way that he moved. She couldn’t help but watch him as he moved to the other side of the table. “Thank you so much. It’s perfect,” she said, a genuine smile finally appearing on her pretty face, “It smells delicious.” The slim brunette blew across the surface of her drink, not even considering the possibility that he could have slipped something into it. If he meant to do her harm, she was totally defenceless. She hadn’t lied when she’d said that she didn’t bring her wand. The brunette shifted in her seat as he took a seat opposite her. The robe she was in felt like a blanket and she adjusted it appropriately. She sipped the drink; she could taste the cinnamon in it… the taste was familiar too. 

Her smile became a little faint at his next words. For a second there, she’d been content to just sip her drink and watch him. The young woman took a moment to process his words, placing her mug on the table gently before deciding what to say. She had obviously climbed headfirst into something that she really probably wasn’t prepared for at all. Dash brushed a thumb over the corner of her lips, catching a tiny droplet, before folding her hands demurely in her lap. “I’m not representing anyone,” she told him seriously, watching him closely to gage his reaction. She’d have to choose her next words carefully or he’d kick her out. Then again, perhaps that was what was supposed to happen... “I don’t know about anything you’re talking about, I just…” the girl trailed off for a moment, searching for words, “I’m not an enemy. Or an ally.” Dash shook her head. “I’m a seer.”

The brunette’s delicate features were set in a very serious expression. She felt like everything depended on this next moment. Some magical folk didn’t even believe in seers. She knew her own mother had once wondered why Divination was taught at Hogwarts at all, since it was basically a “useless moneygrab”. When she’d been a child her parents were sure that she just had a lot of nightmares… The witch had secretly been convinced that she was crazy… “I don’t know who’s looking for you, but I’m sure that someone is.” The girl spoke with a little determination in her tone now. She’d had trouble convincing people she wasn’t crazy before. “I think… you’re in danger.” Those particular words would either make her sound like a lunatic or convince him of the exact opposite, and she knew which one she wanted to be real. How could she explain why she was here. Fate sent me, she thought. It sounded stupid in her head, and she couldn’t imagine how dumb and dramatic it would sound out loud. Dash had leant forward in her seat a little without even noticing it.

A seer. Huh. Niska opened his mouth. Then he thought better and closed it. He leaned back in his chair, taking another drink of his tea and going over this new information as he took stock of the girl in front of him. He'd heard those stories about prophets and oracles, but it never occurred to him that they might actually exist. Part of him just refused to believe someone or something had planned out his own damn life without first consulting him. Not possible.

Then again, who was he to judge? Niska had long since learned how difficult it was to explain something to people who didn't have the capacity to understand it. This could be one of those situations. If he could see and feel a supposedly intangible, invisible force of nature, it stood to reason that maybe this girl could see something before it happened. Deciding that didn't make it any less unsettling though. Thinking about the way time worked was hard enough when it was an abstract philosophical concept. Knowing there were hundreds more layers of complexity were all kinds of confusing to him.

"Alright, I believe you," he said with a defeated sigh. Weirder things had happened and he never understood people who were overly skeptical. They did live in a world magic, which was the very definition of Not Logical. "Now, just cause you say so don't mean I'm going to believe every word out of your mouth, but I'm not about to stop listening because it sounds a little strange. World's full of strange things and I think it's better for it." There were a lot of things he knew people hadn't discovered yet. Hell, he was one of them. He'd already looked through countless books and papers trying to find out if magus was normal or not. All he'd managed to find was a three-line paragraph in an tome that mentioned it in passing. The rest of it he had to figure out on his own. He looked at the girl again, wondering if she'd had to do the same. He knew that feeling of being lost and confused and alone in his abilities, and he wondered if she had been left to her own devices to figure it all out.

The nature of magic itself had taken decades to understand, and obviously he still had a lot to learn. To him, spells and curses were great but his best work was when he got down and dirty, using magic in its raw form to do as he willed it. No one else he knew could do that.  Niska leaned forward, looking down at the tea leaves in his empty cup. Say, wasn't that something diviners were supposed to be good at? Reading his leaves to tell if he was gonna get dragon pox or a bag of galleons were gonna fall into his lap?

He swirled them around absently. "So tell me about how your gift works, or at least what you saw that's got to do with me? You said someone is after me? You'll have to be more specific. I ain't particularly been a saint these past ten years. A lot of people'd sleep better at night knowing a man like me's gone into the ground."

The man opened his mouth to speak and then didn’t say a thing. Dash was unsure of what to do and, as usual, reacted intuitively. “I don’t have a wand or a coat or anything at all except this.” She motioned to her plain little wallet on the table, leaning forward intently. “I have no other reason to be here. I didn’t bring those things because I knew I couldn’t. I didn’t need them…. I know you’re going to break that mug later.” She nodded at the mug he was holding, daring him to contradict her. The girl wasn’t used to trying to prove herself with examples, because it never ended well. Visions that offered enough clarity for those kinds of predictions were too rare to be depended on to back her up. On the other hand, Dash didn’t tell anyone about what she could do either. She didn’t lead a heavily sociable lifestyle and it wasn’t as if people watched her sleeping. So proving that she could sometimes see the future wasn’t exactly an every day activity.

The brunette had had visions of people before and hadn’t sought after them, but this was different. Not only had she had a vision about him, but she’d also had a visions where she’d been with him. The witch felt like she’d been instructed to be here, and so explaining things to him seemed like the reasonable thing to do. She’d had this conversation with her mother and with Sindri and a couple of close friends… this was far too rushed for her liking, but she felt like she had to do it. She opened her mouth to say something more – some kind of further justification of why she should be believed. He spoke first though, and she blinked at his reaction, a little surprised. “Oh,” she said uncertainly, her lips forming a neat ‘o’ shape for a moment before relaxing. She relaxed back into her seat and could almost feel the fight fizzle out of her. Dash had been sleeping so badly lately and she’d been so wired today… now she just felt exhausted. “You do?” The young woman watched him to see if she could tell whether or not he was telling the truth. He seemed a little defeated, as if he’d known this was coming or was resigned to the fact. Why was that, she wondered?

“Right. I… Right.” the brunette trailed off again, her gaze dropping to the table. Her energy had disappeared and since she’d just wanted him to agree with her – and he had – the girl wasn’t sure what to say to him now. Why was she suddenly so tired? The lack of sleep was a definite factor, but Dash felt like she’d had everything knocked out of her. She glanced up at him again, placing her hands on the table. “I’m not lying,” she said softly. Dash wasn’t stupid, she could see why he might not believe her. If the man had enemies, then she could see why he might be terribly suspicious of her. But she was telling the truth. His last words had her wondering once again whether she’d been led to someone who might actually harm her. A man like him? What did that mean? He lived in Knockturn alley, which definitely said something about his character to Dash, but aside from that his house didn’t offer a lot of clues. Was he a Voldemort supporter? A murderer? A drug dealer? There were so many possibilities, but she didn’t want to think too much about them because the whole situation was already doing her head in.

She wet her full lips with a quick tongue before speaking. “I see things when I dream, sometimes.” The brunette watched him carefully as she spoke, checking to see whether or not he was about to scoff at her or laugh. Few were the people who knew about her gift, and fewer still were the people who knew anything about how it worked. Seeing that he did neither, she continued. It was hard to do, and her voice had grown much softer in the past few moments. “It’s… sporadic,” she admitted, “and usually pretty blurry. Sometimes-“ most of the time “-I just wake up with… I don’t know… a texture or a colour blur or a taste associated with something, and it doesn’t mean anything to me.” Her gaze had dropped to the table once more, and where she traced tight circles against the wood with an index finger. She didn’t want to go into detail about the associations, though that seemed to be something unique to her sight. Samuel, at least, didn’t have those kinds of abstract sense-associations, and he was the only other seer she’d ever talked to.

“Sometimes they’re much clearer. I… a few nights ago, I dreamt about you.” She flicked her hazel eyes up to meet his again, silently willing him to listen to her. “I dreamt about meeting you here, now, and I dreamt that you let me into your house. I dreamt that it was raining and that I didn’t bring a coat or a wand and I dreamt that… your skin was too warm.” She rushed the last part of her sentence, giving him a little curious look. Dash hadn’t really meant to add it, but he might understand, even if she didn’t. It might mean something to him. The girl had tucked her legs to the side on her chair while she talked. She felt vulnerable and out of her depth and simultaneously like she was exactly where she was supposed to be. She hoped silently that she was doing the right thing. The brunette shook her head, as a look of genuine concern appeared on her face. “I don’t know who’s looking for you. I’m sorry I can’t be more specific, I could just…” she searched for the word, finishing her sentence helplessly. “feel it.”

Niska frowned and put his mug down as gently as possible, though he didn't want make it seem like he was being obvious. He stared at the cup for another second before putting one hand in his pocket and leaning back in his chair again. Maybe if he didn't touch the cup it wouldn't break. Wait, what was he talking about? She couldn't possibly know something like that with certainty. But just to be safe, Niska took his other hand and laid it on the table a full six inches from the cup.

He listened as she tried to explain how her visions worked. She saw things in dreams, and often they were unclear and unspecific but for some reason last night she had dreamt about meeting him. That was a mite unsettling. He didn't like being out of his depth, ever, but he was having trouble believing she had dreamt about him before they'd even met. Then again, no one ever said magic was supposed to make sense. He couldn't help but feel a little sympathy for the girl. She looked like she was struggling a little bit to explain her powers to him, and he got the sense that this must be something she had to think about frequently. He understood that part of the struggle, at least.

She must have a very kind heart, Niska thought. She had walked straight into Knockturn Alley without so much as a coat or a wand to protect herself to warn a stranger that he might be in danger. Something about that stirred his stone heart and he shook his head. He hadn't met a person like that in decades. "Listen, I appreciate you coming out here to find me and warn me about this, even if it was just something you might not've had control over. But...if I may offer an old man's suggestion here, it's probably not wise of you to be wandering into places like this at night unarmed. I hope that isn't a habit of yours."

Niska looked her over again. She was a lovely creature, that was to be sure. But she had an air of delicacy that made Niska extremely unsettled. He felt like he was in the room with a small glass figurine that might break if he bumped into it the wrong way. "You look tired," Niska said, not remembering to be tactful. "I think you should get some rest. Do you have a way to get home? My fireplace...is not working right now." That wasn't completely true, though. It was working fine, he was just pretty sure that the ministry was monitoring the floo networks in the area and he'd been avoiding using it, especially since he was running an illegal fight club out of his basement. He didn't want this girl tied up with his business if things went bad.

"Unless you have someone to come get you, I think it's best you don't go outside. It sounds like a storm is brewing and you'd get blown away the second you stepped foot outside this shop." He grimaced, realizing this was going to come out wrong, but there was no way around it. "I got a bed here, if you need. It's clean and dry, which is more than almost everywhere right now. You're welcome to rest there if you want. I have some shop work to do tonight, so I won't be sleeping anyways..." he said, letting his offer trail off awkwardly. Niska felt a little embarrassed, and cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "So...yeah."

As he put his hand back down on the table, his elbow caught on the spoon in his mug, knocking it over the edge of the table. He grabbed for it instinctively, but it seemed to slip from his fingers, There was a loud crash as the mug hit the ground, shattering into dozens of ceramic chips. Niska stared at the pile of broken pieces and the spreading puddle of hot tea seeping into his floor. Hundreds of responses flew through his mind but the first thing out of his mouth was a string of Russian profanities, as he waved his hand and the liquid evaporated. He knelt next to the pieces and begun to pick them up, shaking his head as he chuckled quietly. "Well then."

“Of course not,” she answered sincerely. The girl had been terrified, and it went against her nature to walk into somewhere she knew was unsafe completely unprepared. On the other hand, though, Dash did have a kind of faith in the future that she couldn’t really describe or shake. “I’m not a child,” she protested with a small, genuine smile, “and you don’t look that old.” He couldn’t be much over thirty, she thought, examining his face closely with curious hazel eyes before looking away. Once again, the girl felt the uneasy sense of seeing things in lower quality or with less detail than she’d had in her vision. It was very off-putting to compare reality with dreams and find the latter more compelling or somehow having more clarity. She shook her head slowly.

Unless you have someone to come get you…

Dash’s thoughts turned instantly to Sindri. They hadn’t spoken for months, but the brunette knew with absolute certainty that he’d rush to her aid if he knew she was in trouble. It didn’t really hurt to think about, but she still associated him with sadness. Ruari or Aline – or even her brother Cail – could come and get her. She had plenty of “someones” that could potentially come out here. Alternatively, the seer could probably just ask him to apparate somewhere that she could floo from. Somewhere in Diagon alley, perhaps. But Dash realised suddenly and very clearly that she didn’t want to go yet. She found herself nodding appreciatively. “I’m exhausted,” she replied honestly, “I’d really appreciate that…”

The girl hesitated, suddenly hit with the full measure of what it was exactly that was going on here. She was exhausted, and while falling into his bed felt like the most appealing option right now, was it really wise? Alarm bells were sounding off everywhere, but Dash knew that he would have been perfectly capable of harming her at any point before now. Getting into his bed couldn’t possibly make her more vulnerable than she had been in his bathroom, right? The girl’s potentially misguided belief in her gift was blurring her judgement here. The problem was that it didn’t feel misguided. She was distracted by his movement, and the consequence of it. He’d knocked the cup off of the table.

Dash watched the cup fall in almost comical slow motion, a thoughtful expression on her face. She didn’t even jump when the thing smashed against the floor… it felt right, after all. She’d have been more shocked if it hadn’t made that exact noise when it shattered. Her eyes flicked up to meet his quickly, to gage his reaction. She felt partly responsible, even though she knew she wasn't. The girl shuffled out of her chair and quickly moved beside him to help pick up a couple of the larger shards of ceramic that he'd missed. She didn't want to speak, because she wanted to give him a moment to process what had just happened. As much as she might rather live in a cottage in the country away from society and ignore it all, she was in a minority group here. The only other person she’d met with the Sight had a completely different “gift” to hers. It was sometimes difficult for people to accept what she was.

After all, she didn’t know him at all. 

The man beside her moved slightly and she reacted instinctively. “Wait, just…” the girl reached out slowly, a deep frown above her pretty hazel eyes, and brushed her fingertips lightly against his forearm. Not wanting to make him more uncomfortable, the brunette drew her hand back quickly. “I’m sorry,” she added pointlessly, frowning a little at the impulsiveness of her actions and unconsciously rubbing her thumb against her fingertips. His skin was warm to touch, just like she’d mentioned a moment ago. It felt right, and something in her approved of the validation of her vision. On the other hand, she simply didn’t understand what was happening. Why had she been led here? Why was his skin so warm? Was he sick? Her eyes were full of questions as she raised her gaze to meet his. The girl felt like there was a certain gravity to this moment. The girl stood slowly, keeping her eyes on his. "Are you okay?" she asked softly.

He couldn't help but watch the girl move with interest. When she knelt down to help him pick up the shards, he resisted the urge to reach out and knock her hand away, She was going to cut herself with those delicate hands. But he let her pick them up, realzing he was too interested in watching her move. Her magic seemed to have flared up a little bit and he wondered if she knew she was doing it. He'd been watching her earlier and he was sure that she hadn't been the one to knock over the mug. That was all his doing.

But when she touched his hand, Niska pulled back as if he'd been shocked with an electric prod. When her fingers had brushed his skin it was almost as if some of that magic had flown into him. He could feel the light touch of her fingertips, but there was also a strange buzz and a ghostly coolness that seemed to enter his arm and creep up to his elbow before she pulled away. What the hell was that? He touched his own arm, feeling around to make sure it was indeed still there. Aside from the tingling, it seemd fine. If NIska hadn't been so alarmed by what felt like her magic entering his body he might had realized that the sensation was almost soothing. Almost.

Had she just said something? Niska looked up from his arm to meet her gaze again. They were pretty close and from here he could clearly feel the gentle push and pull of her strange pulsating magic. It was almost like watching waves on the ocean, but it looked unstable and...somehow different. It took most of his self control to tear his eyes away from her strange magic. Just who was she? "You don't need to apologize," he said, gathering the pieces in a neat pile. "Just be careful, they're sharp." Of course they were sharp. Niska was almost at loss for intelligent words. Too many things were happening and this was getting eerie as hell.

As he was picking up the last piece, Niska carefully pushed a small wisp of his own magic forward. The tail of bluish-grey magic nudged the girl's peach-colored aura and almost immediately her magic nudged back, seeming to reach forward and swallow his own and come toward him. He broke the connection quickly and in his surprise his finger slipped on the shard of glass, opening a small cut on his palm. "Ah, damn." He levitated all the pieces into the rubbish bin and stood up, putting his hand in his mouth. Heisitanly, he offered her his uncut hand to help her up.

He was still recovering from the fact that her magic had almost swallowed his own. Her small peach fog had almost overpowered his own rather considerable cloud with little effort. The nature of her magic was unlike any he had ever seen or dealt with. It was quietly invasive, like a ghost. It couldn't be her. She didn't look like she knew she was doing it. If that was the case, then her magic had a mind of its own-- it moved without her will. The only way he could think to describe it was that it felt like her magic was touching his very existence, and that thought added another extrememly unsettling level to this increasingly unsettling day.

Niska washed his cut off in the sink and turned to her, giving her an embarassed smile to cover up his growing suspicious and caution. "And here I was telling you to be careful and I'm the one who hurt myself. Looks like I'm the one who should be embarassed." Niska dried his hands on his pant leg and turned back to her, wiping up the spill on the table. "Well, feel free to use the bed if you need it," he gestured toward it.

She felt a little confused and withdrawn. He was as up an down as she was when it came to the way they were interacting with each other, and the shifts in behaviour were strange. Dash surveyed the man with wary curiosity as she straightened. The girl was at a loss for words. Why did he seem to be treating her as if she were a child or a doll? Of course the glass was sharp. If he knew her at all, the man would know that her palms were callused from working in the garden. The brunette was slender and willowy, but there was strength in her arms and legs from chopping wood – by hand – and working with animals and in her old garden. The girl supposed that her appearance could be deceiving. She knew that she looked young for her age, but she wasn’t a child.

The girl didn’t know how to behave. She left the glass to him, placing the large pieces she’d already picked up on the table lightly. Under usual circumstances, Dash would have reacted when the man sliced his finger. She had considerable knowledge of first aid, as training was compulsory in her line of work. When the brunette had been working with small, less dangerous creatures like snidgets, it hadn’t really ever been necessary. Now that she’d been transferred and finished her internship, the girl was dealing with much more dangerous creatures. For some reason, the idea felt strangely applicable here. She didn’t know what to make of his words or the smile he gave her at the sink. For some reason, it made her feel uneasy.

“Okay, thanks,” she answered, unsure of whether his words were a suggestion or an offer. She was definitely tired enough to lie down now, but was that what he wanted? Was it an instruction? The girl felt like she was in a dream as she moved towards the door slowly, an automatic thankful expression on her face. Her soft smile and gentle eyes covered up her anxiety. What the hell was she doing? Going to sleep in a random man’s bed for the night? She hesitated again at the door, but made her way into his bedroom without another word. Her dress was there. It was still damp, but she pulled it on quickly anyway, pulling the warm dressing gown on over the top of it to keep herself warm.

Instead of crawling into his sheets, Dash curled up on top of them, pulling her knees up to her chest. Her eyes were wide open, despite how tired she felt. A part of her was refusing to process everything that was happening. It’s meant to be she reassured herself, feeling like she wouldn’t have been able to avoid this anyway. Even if it led to some kind of harm. The idea made her tense, but she shut her eyes after a moment, trying to block out both light and the sounds he was making outside. “It’ll be fine,” she whispered out loud, but the words felt like more of a request than an affirmation. She lay very still and was very uneasy, but after quite some time of muddled thinking and confused thoughts, the girl succumbed to her exhaustion and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

I figure we can have a new thread for the next part whenever you’re ready <33!