Knockturn Alley

Macnair slipped off the main street under the dark arch into Knockturn Alley. Moving out of the shadows here he strode confidently down the street, nodding occasionally to the odd fellow supporter that he saw. He stopped when he reached his destination, a store specialzing in dark tools, and looked through their outdoor display. There were several things that caught his eye but he made sure not to show any obvious interest in them. Everything could be negotiated and unless the seller knew how badly he wanted it the price could always drop lower. Reaching out with his leather gloved hand he picked up a black pingpong ball sized object, reading the tag that said it was a shadow spy, an information gatherer that could be coded to follow certain people for a specified time.

Violet made her way down the main street, her mind set on finding the boy who had been staring at her while she ate her ice cream earlier. She tried to think of where she had seen him before, and finally figured it must have been at one of the 'meetings'. With that information, she turned down a dark alley, Knockturn Alley, which she had only explored on occasion. Several women gave her strange looks, as if they thought she didn't belong here or ought not be here alone, and she ignored the cat calls from a pair of dark looking men standing in a shadowy door. Finally her eyes settled on the boy from before, assessing the situation quickly before she approached. As she neared him, she stayed behind him and out of peripheral vision, speaking over his shoulder. "Do you make it a habit to stare at girls you do not know through windows?"

Macnair saw her in the glass of the shopfront and took the time to slip the little ball into his pocket before turning to face her. "But I do know you, you just don't know me Lockwood." The girl needed some lessons in how to sneak up on someone, if she had wanted to attack him she would never have gotten a chance. In his eyes every situation should be treated as potentially hazardous until otherwise assessed, as should all people. From what he had seen the girl was overly friendly, willing to talk to anyone who gave her the time of day, and yet from what he had overheard so far she never said much of substance.

Violet narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms. "That's not creepy at all." Her eyes wandered around the alley, glancing over windows, over mini-alleys jutting off the sides, along the faces of people who passed. "And an unfair advantage. Care to bestow me with your name, or are you going to pull that mysterious crap and keep it secret?" She glanced at the table he had been looking over, and then turned her attention back to him. "This costs a couple galleons, you know." She smirked, holding up the little black ball he had slipped into his pocket a moment ago.

"My name," he growled as he reached out and took the ball from her, "Is Walden Macnair. And I would thank you to mind your own purchases, not mine." He shot the shopkeep a nasty look when he walked out to see what was happening and flicked him two galleons for which he received a nod in return and the man skulked back inside the dingy shop. "I am also in your year at school, not that you seemed to notice anything last year other than the surface of your desk." That he had noticed in the few classes he had attended. Exams came easily to him and as long as he passed them all with high enough marks most of his professors had stopped bothering him about his attendance.

Violet couldn't wipe the smirk from her face as he told her his name and took the ball back, being forced to pay for it as the man walked out to look at them. "Well, Walden Macnair, I'm glad you seem to stare at me at school as well and it's not just a special behavior for Diagon Alley." She stepped around him, bumping into him without care, and moved down the table to look at some things in the next window. "And what does it matter if I only noticed my desk? Maybe I had better things to worry about than talking to people and other... stupid things." She felt like an idiot in front of him, and had no idea why she was suddenly so self conscious.

Macnair scowled at her use of his full name but circled around her when she moved past him, stepping close and trailing a finger over the back of her neck, "It matters because awareness is key to survival. If that had been a knife you would be dead by now." He normally wouldn't have stayed in conversation with anyone for this long unless it was important or one of his old friends but this girl intrigued him and he couldn't figure out why. His realised his fingers were still on her neck and he quickly pulled them back, sliding them into his pockets. He needed to get back on even ground again, "Surely Lockwood taught you at least that before he died." Now he was wracking his brains trying to remember her first name, he knew she went by something like a flower, he thought it was Violet but he wasn't sure, but he knew that wasn't her proper name.

Violet didn't flinch at his touch, her concentration on the objects on the table in front of her instead. She answered him without looking up. "Well then I'll say it's a very good thing your fingers aren't knives. It'd make it awfully hard to pick things up, or caress someone gently like that, if your fingertips were daggers." She peeked out of the corner of her eye at him, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. It soon fell at the mention of 'Lockwood'. "Yes. Bobby did." Violet sat down the ring she was looking at, walking a few steps away moodily. It hurt remembering him, how he'd died when she was so little and alone, and had no one else familiar to turn to. How he'd promised her one day he'd tell her about her real parents, but now she wasn't sure anyone even knew who they were. Bobby had told her that he was the only one who knew, that her mother had made him swear to keep it that way as long as he could. She had the picture of them, sure, but what if no one ever recognized them? And she missed Bobby. He had been fun, loving, all that she'd wanted in a dad, and then one day it was just taken away without a second thought, without a warning. And suddenly she felt nine years old and alone again. "Why do you watch me so much? I can feel your eyes on the back of my neck. I've no need of a stalker, thank you, so don't bother attempting to gain that title."

Macnair noticed her tensing up and stood to one side, studying her reactions. He wasn't honestly sure which way to take this. Either she had really loved Lockwood and missed him so much it was physically hurting her or she had hated the guy and had some really bad memories to contend with. The latter seemed less likely but given most familial relationships he had been witness to in his life he didn't want to discount the idea. When she abruptly changed the subject he blinked, shocked for a moment, and repeated the question back to her with a slow drawl giving himself time to think, "Why do I watch you so much? What makes you feel so special, how do you know I don't watch everyone as intently." The truth was that he didn't watch everyone else as carefully, he noticed everyone and made mental files in case of an emergency but his interest in them was fleeting and generally ended when they moved away.

Violet turned around, leaning casually against the table as Walden Macnair answered her. She crossed her arms and quirked and eyebrow at him. "How do I know? Well for one, just in the past few moments, I've felt your eyes on me far too constantly for you to be studying anyone else in such detail. And back at the ice cream shop too, you were staring right in the window at me. And if you've watched me in school enough to criticize that I don't pay attention to others, then you clearly have stared often and long enough to ensure that I'm not sneaking covert glances at others and making silly notes in my head like I'm sure you're doing." She took a step toward him, only a little bit away from him, looking right up into his face. He didn't scare her, even if he did make her feel a bit small and silly. "So, Walden Macnair, why do you stare at me so intensely?"

Macnair had to admit that he was impressed with her reasoning, common sense wasn't such a common thing anymore in his opinion. That didn't mean though that he was particularly appreciative of it. He enjoyed watching and studying but didn't like it when the tables were turned. "Maybe it's because you have secrets and I want to know them, or maybe it's your ravishing beauty, or maybe it's just an assignment and I have absolutely no genuine interest in you whatsoever." He pulled back his sleeve and looked at his watch, "Now if you will excuse me I have a meeting to get to. I'm sure we will meet again." He nodded to her and walked down the street, vanishing into a rather dark looking bar, not that things ever looked anything but dark down knockturn alley, where he was expected to meet his father.

Violet shook her head at him, not satisfied with his answer. "My secrets are not yours to learn, seeing as I don't even know the answers to some of them. 'Ravishing beauty' even sounds like a big fat lie. And if I'm an assignment, do please let me know how well you're graded." Her eyes followed his movement as he looked at his watch, and she rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, see you next time I spot a creepy shadow watching me from across the street." She waved her hand dismissingly at him, turning back to the table of objects as he walked away. She contemplated following him, and even turned to move in that direction down the street. A little counter-creeping, if you will. But as she neared the bar, she seemed to think better of it. That didn't stop her from pausing to look in the dusty windows for a half a second before continuing back toward Diagon Alley once again, her interest in the strangeness of Walden Macnair only growing by the moment.