Catch me on a good day ((Elliot))

[dawn]

The sun was high in the sky on a Wednesday afternoon. It was a little after 12:00 noon so the sun was at it's peak. It is said that between 12-2pm it is the worst time for someone to be outside due to extreme sun exposure. Obviously, everyone in Diagon Alley disregarded that memo. Several hundred people sprawled out through the streets were busy running errands with an apparent indiscretion of their sun exposure. The summer was a great time to be outside. Some people were purchasing items for the upcoming school year. Others were mingling with friends and needed an excuse to be outside, so shopping took handle. And a few others came to the area to people watch. A slightly bizarre thing to do, that was rarely noticed amongst the most naive of wizards. The brightness of the season usually brought up certain individual's moral and put them in slightly a better mood. In this particular case, it was recognizable.

Dawn McGrogan wasn't known for being the most kind of people, but on this day there was a slight change in her demeanor. She wasn't anywhere near being hospitable but she was tolerable of individuals around her. She was taking a break from her work. It was more of an emergency hiatus that her fiance pressured upon her, in which she was internally grateful. Maybe it was the lack of work, possibly it was the distance from the distruction that altered her mood, or perhaps it was just the nice weather the summer brought. Nevertheless, she was enjoying her time out of the house relaxing in the sun.

Her place of relaxation was a small cafe off one of the side roads in Diagon Alley. It usually wasn't noticed by annual passerbys, but a frequant visitor to the area would have to stumble come by it at one point or another. On a cobble stone road that ran perpendicular to Twilfit Tattings, was a permanent hole in the wall of a cafe. At first glance you wouldn't think it was something to come back to or even to acknowledge, but once you walked in thought the open doors, the first smell that filled your head would keep you coming back for more. The room has a faint incense of a smell that seemed different and yet appealing to each customer. For instance, every time Dawn came around to this cafe she was attached to the scent of honey and lavender; and whenever she came here with Cole he could only smell apples and cinnamon. After awhile of coming to this same cafe, Dawn understood there was a charm on the building to make each person who walked through the door immediately smell the scent that was most appealing to them. It was entertaining and a good selling point in Dawn's mind. And unlike most cafe's you attend to yourself. There are no waiters and waitresses, you purchase your food or drink and then are left alone. Maybe there was a good reason this place was set back off of the main drag, because it was ideal for privacy. And the menu was not like a coffee or tea cafe, it was like the aroma you got when you walked in- anything you wanted, or could think of was on the menu. It was probably Diagon Alley's best kept secret.

Dawn arrived at the cafe around 12'oclock. She purchased a bowl of peach sorbet, and a tall glass of sangria to lessen the heat of the day. With her hair tied back in a low bun, Dawn was dressed in a long pastel blue sun dress. She walked out of the cafe and took seat under the last free umbrella table outside of the cafe. It was unusually busy for a wednesday, but it pleased Dawn that the cafe was receiving good business. Setting her bowl and glass on the table, she pulled out a book from her purse, as she zoned out from the world around her and into enjoying her afternoon.

[Elliot Campbell]

"My colleague will escort you to St Mungo's, sir," Campbell addressed the middle-aged wizard who stared at him, eyes wide with shock and pain. "It would be safer we did not apparate you in this condition... Next time, I would advise you didn't apparate after a few bottles of alcohol." He gave his colleague a nod and the pair walked away. With an indiscernible expression, Campbell loosened the collar of his work robes, which were becoming warm under the glare of the afternoon heat. The wizard whom his colleague had just taken to the Hospital had splinched himself; foolish, considering his body had just absorbed about five bottles of Firewhiskey (probably more, knowing how well alcoholics lied about their intake). This wasn't the first time Campbell had encountered such a mistake. It was his line of work after all, and he had to deal with such foolish witches and wizards who had a penchant for interrupting his lunch break.

Taking out a piece of pastel-green parchment and a quill which required no ink bottle to write from his robe chest pocket, Campbell began to scrawl, 'Taking lunch break now, 12:23, will be back at Ministry at 1:23.' Slipping his wand and quill back into his pocket, he folded the parchment into an aeroplane shape and launched it gently into the air, where it pointed itself in the position of the centre of the city of London and swiftly zipped away into the distance. Campbell didn't look up to watch it go, instead turning away from the scene of the splinching and walking briskly down Diagon Alley. He knew a cafe not too far away that he had visited several times over the years and had made a reputation for himself as a regular. As he hit the doorway in less than five minutes, a strong aroma of fresh grass hit Campbell's nostrils. Sniffing delicately as a flash of appreciation flickered across his handsome face, he stepped into the cafe. His attention was focused ahead of him, to his left, so when a young woman left her seat to his right, he walked right into her, creating a collision that was not injurous but caused the beverage the lady was holding to spill between the both of them.

"So sorry," Campbell immediately said, his wand out in moments. Before the woman could blink, the stains in his robes and her beautiful blue dress had faded thanks to his spell. Campbell tucked his wand back into his pocket and sent the woman an apologetic look. "That was entirely my fault, I apologise for not looking where I was going." A stifled sigh was the only sign of Campbell's controlled frustration. His hand left his pocket and rose up towards his poor victim, who was a very beautiful woman, which he could appreciate but which did not interest him in any way. "Elliot Campbell," he introduced himself as he shook her hand. "Let me buy you another drink. What would you like? It's the least I could do," he offered as he withdrew his hand, only to gently relieve the lady of her now-empty glass and wave over a waitress. What the woman before him was wearing was certainly flattering, but it inclined Campbell towards thoughts of his own attire: it was a hot summer's day, he really should have changed into lighter clothing before he left his office at the Ministry, where spells kept the temperature regulated without a moment's thought. "Good afternoon, Miss Goodman," Campbell smiled graciously as a waitress approached. "Could I have my usual, please? And for this lady, a..." Campbell glanced at his company questioningly, waiting for an answer.

[dawn]

Dawn sat at the table for a few minutes. She was completely enthralled with her book. It was a muggle boo,, shockingly enough. Somehow she was interested into a different sort of life- or idea. If her father was alive at this day she would be damned for even touching the bindings. But, lately Dawn has made a change in her life. Possibly this hiatus was beneficial to her, a whole. Not just affecting her work like but affecting her private and social life. Dawn roamed the muggle world quite often in her line of work. Blending in, dropping off packages, and setting up meetings with her cliental all beside muggles. It interested her on how they thought and if they ever suspected a different type of person walking around, unbeknownst to them. It entertained her to never be caught.

Her eyes followed each word on the page as if it was spell she was trying to remember. The sun stained the pages as Dawn tried to move the book out of the light. It was so bright outside that it washed away the words. However, as much as she tried, the sun still bored down over her shoulder onto the pages. Cursing herself in her mind, she thought how stupid it was to sit outside in mid-day reading. It was the worst time to find any type of shade. When the sun was at it's highest point, all shadows vanished. Closing the book in front of her she picked up her spoon, and finished the last bit of sorbet that melted in her bowl. Letting the spoon fall back into the bowl, Dawn picked up her half drunken glass of sangria with her left hand, stuffed her book under the same arm pulled her purse over her right shoulder, and picked up the empty bowl. Pushing out her seat behind her she stood up as she made sure everything was within her grasp. Suddenly, someone pushed into the side of her. "Bloody Hell!" She shouted as she lost her balance and her glass spilt all over the front of her dress, her bowl fell to the ground and smashed on the tile floor, and her purse fell off her shoulder. Getting her bearings back she stood up and looked at the mess all over her. The cafe fell a bit quiet as the customers turned to Dawn and man who pushed into her.

Looking down at her dress the maroon drink soaked into the light fabric, but within seconds it seemed to evaporate into the air and leave the dress unmarked. Looking up at the man beside her she noticed his wand out, ready to clean the mess. He mumbled works of apology. "You're damn right it was your fault." Dawn shot as she bent over and picked up her purse, and stuffed her book into it. Standing back up she looked at the man, who she did not recognize. Above all else, Dawn knew histories of families from generations past; it was something she had to lean as a child under her father's supervision. Narrowing her eyes she thought to herself. And I thought I was going to have a good day. Not be bothered, relax in the sun, and sip sweet sangria while finishing my book. But no, this indecent imbecile of a man had to throw a monkey wrench into a good thing.... I should have seen it coming. The way he has dark circles under his eyes made it obvious he was disgruntled. It looked as if this buffoon hadn't slept in weeks, no wonder his balance was off.

Just as soon as Dawn was going to speak her mind, the man interrupted and introduced himself. His name was Campbell, Elliot Campbell. She recognized the surname, not the face. Dawn was into politics of the pure-blood families, and knew of the Campbell family. With her eyes still narrowed in dislike she shook his hand. "Dawn McGrogan." she spoke sternly. She was still startled by the incident, but even more stunned by the manners shown by Elliott. Most people apologize, and allow Dawn to tear them apart; however, she didn't even have time to speak her piece yet. He was artful and mannerly, Dawn was pleasantly surprised. Elliott insisted on buying her another drink since he ruined the one she was not finished with. Appreciating the gesture she spoke to the waitress as she came by. "My summer usual, as well." She spoke as she watched the waitress walk away.
"You have usual here? I have not seen you around before." Dawn questioned as she turned back to face Elliott. Looking at his clothes, she recognized his robes. "Has the heat gone to your head? My guess is that it made you lose your balance, and somehow invented a good argument in your mind that made it sensible to throw a cold drink around?"

[Elliot Campbell]

Campbell raised an eyebrow at the domineering tone of the woman. She was beautiful, but she was also harsh, a figure of spikes and thorns. However, he hardly reacted to her placing of blame, instead watching her every move and reaction with subtle scrutiny. Eventually she softened, but only by a note, and Campbell deemed it safe to continue pleasant conversation. He was hardly afraid of her frightening personality; in fact, he was barely fazed, having encountered several people of her kind, and he had always dealt with them accordingly. Campbell had a way with people, even though he wasn't a keen socialiser or people-lover. Solitude suited him much more, despite his natural charm. Sometimes he wondered why he'd married knowing this. "A pleasure, Miss McGrogan," Campbell smiled genially, processing her surname in his mind. He recognised it from a famous pure-blood line, known for its Slytherin graduates from Hogwarts, which he himself would have attended had his father not deviated to France instead when Campbell was eight years old. "You belong to a respected family, Miss McGrogan."

As Eliza Goodman disappeared with his and Dawn's order, Campbell shook his robes out neatly and sat down in the seat of the table next to her. "I come here enough to be known as a regular," he explained. "Perhaps twice a month. My work keeps me busy, but when I'm in Diagon Alley on a work assignment I stop by for lunch. It's convenient." At Dawn's sarcastic comment, Campbell gave a half amused smile. "Rather than tending to myself this afternoon, I was pre-occupied with a wizard who had splinched himself after five bottles, possibly more, of Firewhiskey. The thought of changing robes did not enter my mind as I Apparated from my office." Campbell thanked the waitress as a glass of sparkling Jasmine iced tea with a touch of magic zing in it was placed before him, and beside him, a familiar-looking beverage on Dawn's table. He took a large, appreciative mouthful before turning back to his company again.

"I believe your family runs a Dark Arts shop?" he asked, attempting to make polite conversation if Dawn would tolerate him, which she appeared to. "Are you working today? The weather is too beautiful to remain indoors. Your choice of attire is matching to the mood, to the beauty of today." His voice was lilting as he complimented Dawn politely, genuinely. He made it clear he admired her, but he was not interested, certainly, in nothing more than platonic conversation. "The regulating thermostat spells at the Ministry keep me from knowing the daily weather," he added in a dry, humoured tone of voice. "Hence," and he gestured at his clothing to emphasise his point. "Your book," he then indicated with mild interest. "It is a good read. You have taste, Miss McGrogan."

[dawn]

All at once Dawn was interested and fascinated at the same time. This man, whom she believed was just placed in the middle of her day just to spite her good mood, was actually a gentleman. Very rare to come by. It was somewhat relieving to her that there were decent people left in the world. For the past few months, Dawn had been going through some inter turmoil. She grew up seeing bloodlines, noting them and never crossing them. Now as an adult she was enthralled by her family's work that she inherited. But after her father's death, graduation, her engagement and Aden moving away did she still want this lifestyle she was brought up with? She had the power, as well as the right to choose what she wanted to say or do. Of course, Dawn could not see herself sitting down with a muggle born rat, but baby steps were good. And she was well aware. Now the only problem was seeing how Cole would deal with the change.

As the waitress brought over her drink, she sat back down at the table she was just about to leave, but with new company she had a reason to stay. "Thank you." Dawn nodded at the woman as she placed her drink in front of her. Picking it up, she took a small sip from the rim of the glass. Letting the comforting liquid wash down her throat, she turned to Elliott as he began to answer her quizzical questions from before.

"Ah yes." She spoke with a straight face. Although she did enjoy his company, she wanted to stay straight faced to this stranger. Having fun wasn't a crime. "Who needs to be in touch with the real world when you can create your own weather, aye?" She spoke as she rose an eyebrow. "Just as well, once you realized the abrupt change in climate; the same magic could be used to change into something more..... comfortable." Dawn's voice slowed as she looked at Elliott up and down. Seeing him wrapped up in a cloak made her feel uncomfortable. It was midday in the heart of summer, he must have been crazy to still cover himself up, even after spending at least ten minutes outside in the noon sun.

As the conversation slowly died from fashion, Elliott brought up Dawn's job. Looking up from her drink she tried to hid her astonishment as he spoke out loud of her family's business. She held her composure as she grinned lightly. "It's not actually publicly known. It's strictly on a need-to-know- basis." She said as her voice didn't waver from her normal tone. Whispering resulted in eavesdroppers. On a day like this Dawn didn't want bad publicity, especially when she wasn't sure if she was going to stay in business much longer.
Leaning back in her chair she went on. "I took the day off. Needed some time for myself. Sick of all the travel. I some what forgot what it felt like to stay in one place." She smiled as she watched Elliott motion toward her bag, pointing at her book. "Oh yes, Milton. Interesting none the less. I never read anything like that before. Muggles have such vivid imaginations. And actually, somewhat scholarly." She spoke in an honest tone. Soon Dawn realized she wasn't being rude anymore, to a man she just met. Oh, how her demeanor had changed.


((I am SO SORRY for the delay! With my trip I just got back from & the starting of the school season again, I hadn't found time. But I did my schedule and I'm back. Again, sorry for the wait! *huggles* ))

[Elliot Campbell]

Campbell gave a slight smile of acknowledgement. "I could," he nodded. "But I haven't had a minute, and I doubt I will. I have," he consulted his watch quickly, "52 minutes remaining for my lunch break and I intend to spend every second enjoying the liberation from my office." He lifted his lips again, amused. "The temperature or weather hardly concern me. I will soon be in an environment where I will hardly need to spare it any thought again." Despite his genial tone, there was a wisp of wistfulness in Campbell's words.

Noting Dawn's reaction to his mentioning of her family business, he gave a polite nod and an assuring smile. "My apologies," he immediately said. "Working for the Ministry, one becomes aware of pieces of information largely irrelevent to oneself. I must take care where I tread more often... Obviously," he added, an amused twinkle in his eyes, "for I did step into you not so long ago." Dawn did not seem against the topic, though, so Campbell took this as a sign to continue, albeit in a lower tone of voice. "I have no use for the Dark Arts, I'm afraid," he informed her, "but I respect your business, nonetheless." Campbell had never been a supporter of the Dark Arts, but neither was he outright against them either. He was apathetic unless such practices placed others in danger, and Dawn seemed anything but dangerous... at the moment. Campbell remembered scanning her file once, in passing; well, it was her family's, but there had been details about the McGrogan daughter. She was a successful, beautiful young woman, but not someone he need be afraid of.

Campbell gave an understanding smile. "I know the feeling," he nodded. "I worked for the Department of International Magical Cooperation a few years ago before I transferred to Magical Transportation. I grew tired of the constant travel. Although my life is hardly adventurous and lacklustre at best, I am happy. That is, perhaps, the most important thing." He flashed another small smile. As usual, he held no firm opinion, had nothing assertive or outspoken to say, for he hated to evoke confrontation or dissent. "Ah yes, Milton." Campbell's lips lifted into another smile, this time a familiarly content one. "I know Milton. I know Muggle fiction well, I am a lover of literature. I am too well-read, I think, if there's such a thing. Literature is truly delightful, in that it can surpass racial, sexual and even Muggle prejudices."

Campbell turned away from Dawn to sip at his beverage. He had taken her comment about Muggles' 'scholarly' works positively, hoping she would not mind his mentioning of Muggles since she had instigated the topic. He had expected a Slytherin graduate such as Dawn, of an infamous pure-blood line, to despise Muggles, but evidently she did not hold the same values as many like her did. Campbell was not surprised, though; he was hardly ever surprised, though he was pleased. He himself had never held anything against Muggles, and welcomingly embraced their culture, which he was astute towards. He was no lover of Muggle ways, but he was fond of them and found their lifestyle amusing, as well as fascinating.

"Have you read Dickens?" Campbell proceeded to ask. "Or perhaps Hardy? I highly recommend them, they are great works of literature. Although, if you do not enjoy novels of the tragic genre, I would refrain from reading Thomas Hardy. His novels are hardly light-hearted." Campbell chuckled softly, well aware that the content of Hardy literature was not a laughing matter. "How is your poetry, Miss McGrogan? The Muggles are well-versed as well as possessing scholarly skills of novelists. Hardy wrote hundreds of poems during his lifetime," he ventured to ask.


((No problem! *huggles* Thanks for replying, and take your time.