1st May, 1888 — Diagon Alley May Day Event
Jude Wright

It was beyond intoxicating. Betsy had almost forgotten what it was to live amongst people that were like her and not feel constrained - the people of Pennyworth certainly weren't affluent but so many of them worked for those that were Betsy sometimes thought they had forgotten how to be themselves. They were so deferential, so well-behaved, and so dull with it that she sometimes wanted to scream!

But here? Here there were people handing out pamphlets - for all the good they did her, she stashed them neatly in her pockets, not wanting to simply throw them away - and she felt deep in her heart that for once she might actually be with people that thought like she did. She had barely made it this far without expressing her true opinions on the world and now...oh Merlin now it felt they felt like they were bubbling right underneath the surface of her skin, her heart pounding almost painfully with joy every time she hear somebody speak and sound as though she had conjured them up from the secret depths of her mind.

There was one in particular, she had seen him earlier and since then acquired a crown of the reddest roses that made her feel like she was Queen of May Day, even if she wasn't, and he spoke with such passion, such intent, she simply had to meet him, even if he thought she was ridiculous. He was so terrible handsome and whenever he opened his mouth the words were so strong and empowering - how on earth did he know what to say?!

"Excuse me! Did you really write all of these?" She asked as soon as she got close enough to be heard, pulling her stash of pamphlets from her pocket, gazing at him as though he might just be the messiah in literate form.

  

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MJ is a beautiful wizard

The festivities were in full swing, and Jude's mood utterly buoyant with it. For all he proclaimed not to care for parties and the like, for all he had more concern about labour strikes and workers' rights than the rest of today's traditions, he couldn't begrudge that this had been a good idea and a worthy effort all the same.

Besides, the people here today were almost certainly those who most deserved to celebrate, the ones who worked the longest hours for the least, for whom friendship and flowers and maypoles were indulgence enough. Apparently those (or was it just the supply of cheap drinks?) worked a charm when it came to the pamphlets, too. How many days of his life had he spent pitched on Diagon Alley in its usual guise, struggling to earn anyone's attention for long enough to hand them the thing? There were always a few interested faces, and a few more who took the papers carelessly, or out of sheer sympathy, but nothing compared to the atmosphere today. It was the best sort of crowd, that much was certain, but people had also been willing to discuss these things - workers' unions and pay and the 8-hour day - and some of them had been downright uproarious about it.

Jude had given into the day as much as anyone, he supposed, had even followed everyone's lead and accepted a flower crown (red, to match his necktie and the banners decorating the street), which he'd been re-straightening as he turned away from his most recent acquaintance of the day. It was scarcely a moment later that it looked like he'd be making another, this time in the form of a blonde bounding up with a matching-coloured wreath on her head. There was something arresting about her, whether it was her intent gaze or her luminous enthusiasm or something else rather less identifiable.

Possibly it was because she'd led with the pamphlets. "I did," Jude answered, taken aback but rather pleased. "Though not without the help of some good friends," he admitted with a smile, and a vague gesture around the place. Like most things, they'd been a group effort.

"You must have the whole collection there," Jude observed, smile becoming a beam.

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   Elladora Black

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The smile she received from the handsome young man gave her the same fluttery feeling as pulling a perfect batch of choux pastry from the oven on the first attempt did and Betsy did not need to be told what it meant. It had been too long since she had last been with a man and living in the same household as a happily married couple only served to remind her what she was missing in life. And this one was…well, he might well be the most magnificent young man she had seen in a very long time and though she could not put her finger on why she immediately felt drawn to him.

“I’ve been picking them up through the day,” she admitted with a blush, thumbs rubbing over the paper idly as she wished she had taken the time to read them properly so she could sound more educated than she was. Contained in these pamphlets were all the things she had heard snippets of today, things that had sounded far too important for her to understand and certainly not things that she could change but perhaps she ought to have tried?

Although realistically she knew the laborious process of reading would have taken a larger chunk out of an exciting day than she was willing to part with.

“There’s so many of them, I don’t know where you get all your ideas from.”

  

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MJ is a beautiful wizard

He couldn't help but note how pretty she was, which was a thought that felt foreign and unfamiliar in his head, even as his gaze continued to return to the young woman, almost magnetised by her presence.

But it had to be the pamphlets. There was no other logical explanation for him... noticing these things, much less being moved by them. Perhaps it was merely because she smelled especially nice?

Jude's confusion about her paled into insignificance next to what she was saying, at least, though her response hadn't dimmed his smile in the slightest. "This might just be my experience," Jude admitted, lightly but in total earnest, "but once you start being indignant about one thing, it gets much harder not to be indignant about everything else as well." It probably was just him and the people he knew, for the most part, though. Even though they did all they could - pamphlets included - to open the door to people thinking about social problems, it was also his experience (and something all Kieran's years of cynicism had made quite clear) that some people were exceptionally happy to live in a paradise of ignorance and pay no attention at all.

This young woman did not seem like some people, though. "I'm Jude, by the way - Jude Wright," he added, which she might have gleaned from the pamphlets already, but he did not yet know her name.

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Betsy could not entirely remember the last time she had felt such a fluttery feeling in her stomach and she practically fell over her own feet taking steps towards him, like a clumsy bisexual moth to an equally unsure beautiful flame, reaching out to take his hand and shake it. Men were always slightly surprised by that and Betsy certainly wanted to be memorable.

“Be-Elizabeth Cooper,” she blushed and shook her head at her own silliness. He was just a boy, even if he did smell nicer than any of the species she had ever met before. “Betsy,” she amended, feeling the flush travel and letting go of his hand before he could feel how hot she was becoming. He was so passionate it was enthralling, even if she clearly didn’t see the world in the way he did: she wanted to though. She was indignant about plenty!

“I hope your experiences haven’t been all that bad?” She asked with a grin. “You must have something that makes you happy and content? Family? Friends? Pastry in my case,” she giggled.

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   Elias Grimstone

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MJ is a beautiful wizard

Jude was surprised by the handshake that she offered, robust and confident and sincere, but it made him like her all the more. Which was alarming, given that nothing yet had deterred him from that course.

“Good to meet you, Miss Cooper - Betsy,” he replied, her bubbly demeanour inviting a more relaxed approach, he supposed. Besides, she had shown quite enough enthusiasm already in the face of ideas that often scared people off, which, in Jude’s book, was a sure sign of friendship.

“Oh no, my experiences haven’t been anything to complain about,” he revised - it was seeing so many people’s experiences in comparison that had exposed the festering mound of privilege. Not that that fact had prevented his indignation on anyone else’s behalf. “But my friends are everything -” to me, he had begun to confess, so that she would know he wasn’t aggrieved about everything in the world (just nearly everything); but he stopped short at her last remark, thrown askew. “Wait a minute - did you say pastry?”

Pastry, as well! How was she doing this?

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   Elladora Black

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Betsy had never had the chance to make friends at school and meeting people when one worked the hours she did was tricky, so to heat someone call his friends everything made something inside pang with a longing she hadn’t realised she had. What must it be like to be this man’s friend, or if not him then someone like him, and have someone talk about you in such a way?

She loved Vic. She loved her family and they were her everything but she had not chosen them for herself; they had been in her heart from the beginning, they had not burrowed their way in and made a home purely through their own merit and she wanted so much to know how they felt.

Apparently her passion for her work was a good place to start!

“Yes,” she laughed. “I’m a baker but unlike most I actually enjoy my work!” She glanced pointedly down at the leaflets that were still clasped in her hand. “Unfortunately it means I know more about crust-ice than justice,” she added.

And immediately blushed the same colour as her garland because it was easily the stupidest thing Betsy thought she had ever said in her life.

  

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MJ is a beautiful wizard

So pastry was not just a favourite of hers, but how she made her living, Jude gleaned amidst his dazedness. As if that were not enough, she followed up that declaration with possibly the worst and most wonderful pun in the world, because the only thing more endearing and absurd than a bad pun was a bad pun about two of his favourite things, justice and pastry.

He had dissolved into laughter before he could help himself, and trying to suppress it only spurred the amusement on further, so he continued trying in vain to bite his lip and return to seriousness (before he went and ruined her whole impression of him) for a rather long moment. "Sorry," he said at last, feeling as though he had probably bade an equally embarrassed flush welcome on his cheeks from that. Or from her presence, generally. He wasn't entirely sure she was real. For a brief moment, he also wasn't entirely sure he wasn't attracted to women.

He cleared his throat, and surveyed her again. "I mean, if you're interested in thinking about it any more -" Jude began, hoping that he wasn't misreading the sincerity in her enthusiasm or in her joke, but supposing it was worth a try, "you're welcome to come down another day to one of our meetings. The Augurey Beak's pastry is - fairly awful," he conceded, with another huff of laughter (though that fact alone rarely stopped him from eating it), "but there's plenty of talk about justice. And we're always pleased to have new people."

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The Augurey Beak? It sounded like something from the offcut bin in a butchers but she immediately resolved to find it at all costs. She had never been one for visiting public houses but if it did pastries then presumably it was more like a café? She fully intended to find out and today was as good a time as any! Mr Jude Wright might be the brightest thing visible today but he was talking to her, that was the important thing, and she hoped to keep his attention for longer yet.

Unless he already had a young lady to court? Oh Merlin, he must have, he was far too handsome to be free. She had to go to this Augurey Beak if only to seek out the competition! A good-looking, passionate man with shiny hair and bright eyes who had laughed at her stupid pun was certainly worth the effort.

“I’ll do that! Will...will you be there?” Presumably this was what he did for a living, though Betsy didn’t entirely see how one could make any money from it, but surely he wasn’t there all the time. She would have to time it well.

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   Jude Wright

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MJ is a beautiful wizard

She seemed keen, at any rate, and they always could use new faces. Particularly women; particularly working women. (Particularly working women who, even if she decided she had very little time or inclination to actually talk about social issues with them, might still prove a source of better pastry.)

"Oh, usually," Jude replied, with a happy shrug. "We tend to meet at least weekly in the evening, but there's nearly always one or two of us around at any moment during the day as well -" he waved his stack of pamphlets around the street to vaguely indicate the rest of his friends, and a corner of his mouth pulled up into a grin. "The owners can't get rid of us, we practically haunt the place." Fortunately, the owners had never seemed to truly care, and, admittedly, they probably kept the café financially afloat entirely themselves. (Kieran's drinking habit possibly achieved that singlehandedly.) Of course, there was always a chance that the café was always so deserted because they were the ones scaring off new patrons, but they hadn't been banned from the place yet, so never mind.

"So if I'm not there, I expect someone will be there who knows where I am," he explained brightly; though he would like to see her again, when she'd had a better chance to look over the pamphlets and he might be able to induce her to offer her full thoughts. "Are you local to London?"

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If there were meetings, and an array of other people, then those people would likely be hungry and that was something she could definitely help with and then she might well be invited back. It was a simple plan but Betsy had yet to meet the person who could not be swayed by a well-made pastry or an offering of cake. One day Betsy dreamed she would be able to craft the finest patisseries but that was a long way off and until then she was quite content creating things that simply made people smile as crumbs fell down their chins.

She rather suspected Mr Jude Wright would look even more fetching with powdered sugar dusting his smooth skin.

“Not at all,” she replied cheerfully, wishing she was more than anything in the world in that moment. London would be sublime if everybody were like him but Betsy was not quite naïve enough to believe that. “Hogsmeade. The village. Do you ever go there?”

She couldn’t really imagine why when there was so much here and not one bit of it involved people being attacked by trolls and plague.

  

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MJ is a beautiful wizard

"Occasionally," Jude admitted, "though not as often as I'd like." In London, they were better based for reaching a diverse range of people, conveniently close to the Ministry and the city thoroughfare of Diagon Alley, as well as for attempting to bridge issues between the magical and the muggle world. It was not to say they weren't concerned with what went on in Hogsmeade or Irvingly or Hogwarts, though: Jude was under no illusions that any of those were utopias on earth.

"But it wouldn't hurt to hear more about the state of things up there," he said sincerely - and it couldn't hurt to have more friends based in Hogsmeade, either. "You'll have to come now, tell us what we're missing." He cast her another smile, warmly hopeful. There was no telling if she'd take him at all seriously, of course, no telling that she was actually as interested in the things they cared about as it seemed she might be - and, Jude supposed, if all her enthusiasm was pretended, he probably ought to be impressed by her commitment to politeness.

"If you do have time to make it down," he added, aware that he shouldn't always get so ahead of himself; no doubt this was how people got scared off - and maybe why the group who had stuck at the Augurey Beak Cafe were such a bizarre collection. "I'm sure your days are tremendously busy." He waved the pamphlet about the length of the work-day in his hand in quiet illustration, sure that no bakery was an exception there.

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What they were missing in Hogsmeade could probably be summed up in a short sentence but Betsy was not about to say so if it might be her way into his group. Perhaps they all lived down here in London and she could be the one to tell them how things were up in the little village: at least it was where most wizards resided these days so even if it was quiet and sleepy they were only ever a week away from a disaster or something equally calamitous.

Of course with her luck they next year would be the dullest on record and she would have nothing of interest to offer Mr Wright’s group of friends other than cakes.

Her heart fluttered anew when he proved himself so considerate too! Her days were hander than most people seemed to think, with early starts and gruelling hours in hot kitchens, but she had never before heard anybody say it in such a way that she actually thought they believed it. Most people thought dusting delicacies with sugar and shaping choux were easy things and while she was quite sure there were harder things in the world, it was difficult damnit!

“I’ll make the time,” she replied with a grin, hearing her name in the distance, though she tried her best to ignore it. Why now? Why couldn’t they just leave her alone to chat to Mr Wright a little bit longer? “I-”

“Betsy!”

Oh Merlin she hated her bloody family.

“I’ll come soon.” And, because she could, she darted forward and kissed him on the cheek before she skipped away, not wanting her family to have any part of Mr Jude Wright.

wrap?

  

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MJ is a beautiful wizard