August 6th, 1888 - Flourish and Blotts, Diagon Alley
Kristoffer Lestrange

With the fog gone in Hogsmeade and Irvingly, Monet had noticed an increase in the bodies present in Diagon Alley. It seemed that people were ready to get out and about and enjoy the sun unhindered once again. Now that they could actually leave the other towns, activity was bustling everywhere. Her father's shop had also seen a boost in attendance and she had quickly decided she needed to get out of there whenever she could. It was too busy and crowded in such a small space. Luckily, her mother seemed to be of a like mind and had offered to take the girl off to the book store to get her supplies for the school year quickly approaching. Monet couldn't help but to be a bit giddy with excitement.

After walking along with her mother, enjoying the fresh air she'd still had for the past two months unlike those who were flocking to Diagon Alley in droves, she hoped she'd see some familiar faces amidst the crowds. A few were noticed in passing but only a smile and wave were able to be given as they were going in opposite directions than she was headed with her mother. They'd finally gotten to Flourish and Blotts, however, and Monet had quickly gotten lost amidst the books. Not truly lost, of course, she knew exactly where she was but her mother had apparently gone off in a different direction. Oops.

With a shrug, she meandered through the shelves of books and began collecting a few here and there as she went. Eventually, her stack was taller than she could see over well enough. Trying to navigate with her head peeked around the side of her books, she had been doing rather well until she rounded a corner. She ran into something. No, someone by the sounds of it. That someone, however, seemed to be much larger and more stout than she was even with her stack of books. She soon found herself on the ground in a pile of books and glancing a bit sheepishly up at a familiar Slytherin face. She doubted it was going to end well, knowing Mr. Lestrange certainly had a bit of a temper at the best of times.

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#NolanSet

Visiting Miss Borgin and her shop had been a lone bright spot in a summer that beat any other for bleakness. And he wasn't talking about the fog. (He'd not been affected by the fog, besides it having done him a favour and gotten his sisters stuck far away from him.)  

That said, he was looking forward to going back to Hogwarts even less than he wanted this summer to finally end. Benjamin Turner, Head Boy?! What had he ever done that was worth an ounce of anything? It was a wonder anyone at the school remembered he existed - when did he ever stick his nose out from behind a book, anyway?

Kristoffer was feeling this hatred immensely, being among books right now. He was supposedly collecting his seventh year textbooks, but he had sent the servant to gather those anyway, and had gravitated towards the shelves of hexes instead. Turner didn't take NEWT Defence Against The Dark Arts, after all, did he? As he rounded the corner, however, Kristoffer was hit by a tottering pile of books - and a blonde girl behind them. They all - besides him - scattered to the ground, and he recognised the girl as Miss Brown, of his own house, but could not yet bring himself to care.

"What am I, invisible?!" He thundered, in utter disbelief.

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Monet had expected him to react poorly. His temper was known well enough among other Slytherins so it wasn't a big surprise. Though she could hardly blame him in the grand scheme of things. She had collided a bit bodily with him after all. Luckily, he had a far more stout build and height to counteract the collision. And though she was tall for her age, she'd had the towering stack of books to contend with so she hadn't had the best of luck with it all.

Staring up at him wide eyed and a bit of a blush on her cheeks, she caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she winced at his words. "N-no," she stuttered with evident fear and worry, "I-I'm sorry." Getting to her knees, she dropped her gaze from him and quickly began to scramble to gather the books she dropped. If she was lucky, he'd be annoyed enough with her to be on his way and forget her existence. Worst case scenario, however, came with taunting and insults she was sure.

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#NolanSet

"No, I am not," Kristoffer agreed, as though he was reciting that lesson to an especially dimwitted child (the oversight of the Hogwarts staff was a disgrace, certainly, when Turner absolutely was invisible). He was a fraction mollified that Miss Brown was affording him his due deference, at least, looking appropriately ashamed of herself. She was a pretty little thing, he supposed, albeit a bit of a rabbit in the wandlight.

"Well, you didn't manage to maim me, so," Kristoffer said, a little more indifferently, as though she were not the one who had ended up on the ground, as though his wellbeing was all that mattered in this situation. Well. It did, really. She was a comparative nothing to the world; what would it matter if she were crushed beneath a pile of books one day? Life would go on.

He nudged at one of her books with his foot, perhaps letting the heel of his shoe dig a little too forcefully into another as he stepped onto the edge of it to keep her here, since they were brand new and currently still shop property. "You shouldn't be carrying so many books at once."  

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At least he wasn't yelling, thought Monet. It could have surely been far worse. She'd been at Hogwarts a full three years, three years of being in the same house as him. She was well aware how his temper could be and she'd never wanted to be on the receiving end of it. He also, however, wasn't walking away and simply leaving her be. No, he seemed to be nudging one of her books and even pressing down on one as she tried to gather them up.

"I'm sure it would take far more than a little girl like me and a stack of books to do any damage to a man such as yourself," she found herself saying softly as she dared to look at him again. Her cheeks were still pink but she was trying her best not to be too embarrassed. She simply hoped that stroking his ego would make a difference.

Chewing on her bottom lip with most of her books in a pile again, she gave a small nod. "You're right," she added, continuing to defer to him as it was surely the best route to go, "I guess I just got a little over zealous."

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#NolanSet

It had taken a little prompting, to see her appropriately ashamed, to get her to flatter him - but she managed it. Yes, he was a man, wasn’t he? Already more man than Turner would ever be. At least he wasn’t being reduced to a laughing stock by thirteen-year-old girls in his own House, yet.

“No, I don’t suppose you’d be able to hurt so much as a fly,” Kristoffer said, appraising her indifferently. He bent down and picked up the book he’d been standing on, turning it over in his hands but not giving it back to her, just yet. He had a reputation to maintain, after all. “But you ought to be more careful. You wouldn’t want to hurt yourself.” He was so used to saying things like that as an unspoken threat that Kris wasn’t sure it came out much differently, but - he added another phrase, so that she did not keel over from fear. (She looked like she might.) “Excited for school, are you?”

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Still biting on her bottom lip, Monet simply nodded up to him. He was right, even if she was a bit taller than most girls her age. She'd even grown taller than some of the boys of her year, unfortunately. She just had to hope that she wouldn't continue growing at such a rate. She really would hate to be one of those tall and abnormal girls.

Watching as he picked up the book he had been standing on, she slowly stood up herself. He was still a bit taller than her but not by too much which only made matters all the more embarrassing.

Nodding again in agreement, she was well aware she'd rather not injure herself. She did have older brothers though so it wasn't as if she was entirely unaccustomed to being hurt. She finally managed a smile at his question though as she nodded once more. "I am," she answered honestly, "But mostly because it's been a rather boring summer thanks to the fog." She couldn't appear too eager to be going back to school, after all.

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#NolanSet

Kristoffer scratched nonchalantly at a bit of the dirt on the cover of the book he was holding (...that he'd stepped on), as though he were doing her a particular favour by it.

"Mm," he agreed, not really listening to the small-talk and pleasantries he'd encouraged of her. Instead, now that she'd stood up, Kris surveyed her anew, a sort of calming method against the anger with the world that had kept threatening to surface all through his summer since prefect letters had gone out.

It was, perhaps, lucky for her that she hadn't asked about his in return.

She had too-big teeth, made worse by the way she kept biting her lip and now smiling. But otherwise - not terrible. Huh. A bit on the young side, he thought, trying to recall her year. "What'll you be, a fourth year?" He said, screwing up his face momentarily to think. "Shame we'll never be in any classes together," Kristoffer added, un-screwing his face and relaxing his shoulders a little to pull himself up, "- I could use a pretty face like yours to distract me."

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Monet couldn't help but to watch him cautiously as well as in a bit of awe. Kristoffer Lestrange was a terrifying boy. But beyond that, he was ridiculously attractive. It wasn't really fair how one could have so much going for them. But, she didn't need to say any of that. She was fairly certain he was very well aware of all he had going for him.

She nodded silently at his question to what year she'd been in, completely oblivious to the assessing looking over he was giving her. She was a young girl, after all, unsure of the ways of most boys despite having only brothers. She'd never have thought in a million years that he'd ever give her a looking over in such a way after all.

She had started nodding again in agreement but stopped to gape at him in shock with his closing remarks. "I..you.." she was stammering, clearly surprised by what he'd said. She'd never really thought herself to be a pretty face and she didn't really know how to take the compliment. It was a compliment, right? She really didn't know. "T-thank you," she manged to say though quickly regretted it, probably having been the wrong thing to say and quickly cast her gaze to the grown again as her cheeks flushed a rather vibrant shade of red.

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#NolanSet

It had been a throwaway comment, more or less, but Kristoffer was entertained by the overwhelming effect it had. She had not taken it badly, as some did - sometimes that entertained Kris more, girls getting feisty in outrage - but started stammering, near speechless. Apparently a pretty face did not a witty young lady make.

“Cat got your tongue?” He remarked, raising his eyebrows at the scarlet flush across her face, the surprised little thank you as if her politeness (a refreshing change from his lessers, to be fair) could be the wrong answer. Kristoffer smirked at her, a little incredulous. “You’re a real rabbit in the wandlight, aren’t you?” (Especially with those teeth.)

Probably her youth. Well, that was alright. He could educate her a little someday - she’d probably oblige him anything out of fear. “Think you’ll have more to say to me next time we talk?” He added conversationally, as though it wasn’t a demand. If she didn’t get a little more interesting, at least the prospect of a next time with him might induce a healthy feeling of dread in her.

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When Monet had a chance to look back on her encounter with Kristoffer Lestrange, she'd surely be kicking herself. She wasn't exactly the silly little school girl with a crush that got all out of sorts over such things. But this was Kristoffer Lestrange. He was the epitome of all things a pure blood should want in their life. Name, prestige, blood. He was so out of her realm of possibilities it wasn't even funny and she was acting like an utter fool in front of him.

All she could really do was nod meekly at first. She was very much out of sorts and just trying to get her wits about her so she didn't make even more of a fool of herself. Something told her, however, that she'd already made the worst of impressions so there was little chance that very encounter would look too well for her.

"Of course," she managed to get out at his last remark without a stammer, "I'll look forward to it, actually." Because acting braver than she really was in that moment was obviously the best thing to do.

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#NolanSet

Of course, the girl said (and even that felt like an achievement for her, if Kris did say so himself). With that in mind, he was a little surprised by her addition, enough so that one of his eyebrows lifted a little higher in disbelief.

She looked forward to it, did she? Either this was an automatic shield of politeness, the sort of etiquette every well-bred girl was taught to navigate their way through a conversation when they were well out of their depth, or she - well, perhaps she was looking forward to it.

Kristoffer nearly snorted aloud at the thought. He would enjoy it, though, he thought; if she was not a match for him in the least, she did seem impressionable, malleable, agreeable. He was sure he could use that.

"Well then," Kris declared promptly, smirking at her more broadly now, as though he might swallow her whole. At last he handed back her book to her, with an air of grace he had lacked earlier, when he had... stepped on it. "So will I."

(He needed a thing or two to look forward to back at Hogwarts this year.)

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Monet had started holding her breath without truly realizing it after she'd had her say on the matter. She hadn't really known what to expect from him. And while she thought him quite handsome, the broad grin he was giving her now was a bit terrifying. And intimidating. Merlin was he intimidating.

Blushing faintly again, she offered a decent enough smile when he handed her back the book and she put it into her pile. She really should get going, her mother was likely wondering where she'd gotten off to.

"Well then, until next time," she said, putting on a brave face again though nibbled on her bottom lip before turning to walk away. She passed a sheepish look back to him from over her shoulder one last time before she disappeared in the aisles headed back to the front of the store.

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