Since Puddlemere had won the Quidditch season Rufus had found that going out in public had become a time consuming venture. Strangers would congratulate him out of the blue, they’d tip their hats, beam widely, strike up conversations about quidditch. Honestly, Rufus had believed that the lack of his signature blue hair might dissuade some of the behavior (not that he truly minded the attention for a job well done, but there did come a point where a man appreciation some degree of anonymity) yet yet the muddy brown had done little to keep the fans at bay. It was only with the publicity of the ametur game that the attention steered away from Rufus. Just in time as it had become almost wearisome. Especially when he simply wanted to go look at new quidditch supplies and it took him an hour to simply walk from his home to the store!

Today, however, it appeared that with the busy High Street bustling and the attention firmly elsewhere Rufus might actually have a degree of solitude for his trip to Honeydukes. Perhaps it was even with the help of the crowd pressing in on him that gave him a feeling of solitude even as people brushed past shoulder jostling shoulder. That was until Rufus felt his arm suddenly resist swinging along pleasantly at his side. Looking to see what had happened he discovered the lace of a lady’s sleeve firmly wrapped and snagged around the buttons on the end of his sleeve. Rufus looked up to see a young lady with an abashed look nod at him.

He couldn’t help but chuckle along at the situation. “It’s quite alright, I do believe my coat is half the culprit.” He told her refraining from adding something about his sleeves capturing the attention of such a pretty little thing - the ‘lace’ - of course. But that type of comment was better left to ballrooms and socials than strangers in the street. After all Rufus’s mother had taught him his manners.

Bella Scrimgeour