The letter had arrived unexpectedly, but even as Dermod considered this, he mentally chided himself. Unless they were from family, most letters were unexpected, so it was a ridiculous thing to think. Perhaps it would be easier to say that the contents were unsettling. It had been some months since either he or Gabriella had heard from Rosaline Bane, though it wasn't overly concerning for a friend to drop off the radar for awhile. Dermod's correspondence with the young woman had always been sporadic anyway, though given her political leanings naturally he considered her a kindred spirit. So when she had written saying she was in some difficulty and would like to discuss the matter, he was concerned.
He had replid, agreeing to meet but suggesting that they choose neutral territory. He had selected, of all places, the Welsh town of Aberystwyth, a destination he had not visited for nigh on forty years. From what he remembered it was a haven for muggle holidaymakers in the summer months, a hive of activity for students during the rest of the year. The magical quarter was restricted to a single street, but meeting there, if Miss Bane was indeed in difficulties, might attract attention. Instead, he had suggested they meet at the harbour. From what little he recalled of muggle habits, the students would be locked inside taking exams and the tourists would not yet have arrived.
Although his clothes were made by the finest wizarding tailors, Dermod's styling today could easily pass for a muggle, from the well-cut black trousers to the long-sleeved green shirt. Simple, yet elegant, and it was warm enough that he would not need a cloak. Instead a jacket, closer-fitting than he liked but with concealed pockets for his wand and a little currency would be ample and, of course, the leather gloves he perpetually wore outside to disguise his missing fingers. The town itself was situated in such a position that they could both apparate to their destination without so much as a blink.
What he had failed to consider was the weather. There is an old saying in Wales, 'if you can see the mountains, it's going to rain; if you can't see the mountains, it's raining' which was coined by a particularly wise man or woman. Dermod didn't mind the rain, but standing out in it for too long was bound to attract attention, even though he had quietly conjured an umbrella in such a matter that those few passers by thought he had been carrying it all along. It was a relief to finally see the slender young woman approach, though rather than offer a conventional greeting he fell into step alongside her. "Shall we walk?" he suggested thinking that they would find an area where they could talk comfortably.
Having never visited the area though, in no time at all Dermod realised that he was entirely lost as they walked down a street that appeared to be entirely populated by students. With apparating out of the question, and discussing what had brought them to this questionable destination not an option where they could be easily overheard there was no option but to continue to walk, getting more lost by the minute.
@Rosaline Bane 
