January 23rd, 1891 - Just Outside an Entrance to Wizarding London

The labour movement was, Kieran thought, sort of a drag in the winter - in the summer you could have festivals and outside drinking and sunshine. In the winter you wore layers and listened to people talk about the eight hour workday. The vibe was significantly less enjoyable. He kept breathing warm air into his gloves to warm up his fingers, which twinged painfully when he took notes.

The crowd was a mixture of muggles and wizards; they were close enough to one of Wizarding London's little nooks and crannies that it felt as if the magic spilled out, and the priorities of the wizarding working class and the muggle working class were not far off. The upper class had all the wealth and all the power, yes, and little adjustments in who got to vote could not change everything, yes, and just because the magical world did not have many factories did not mean that the workday issue was irrelevant.

Or so the theory went; he was still working on his lede.

He was here for work instead of for the Revs; he needed to get a story to copy before the full moon knocked him out for three days. Kieran hovered around the edge of the crowd, taking notes and blowing air into his gloves, until he noticed someone doing something similar - except, sans notebook. It took him a second to place him - knowing the rich and semi-relevant was part of his job - but finally he got it, and came up to him:

"Aaldenberg, right? From St. Mungo's."

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Albert Aaldenberg

  

Since inheriting his family's fortune, Bertie's interest in politics had been reinvigorated. He had always been interested since he was small. Living with his Aunt and Uncle had secured that fact. But now, now he had literally more money than he knew what to do with, he felt a burning desire to do something.

It was a cold day. Bertie had wrapped up in a large coat to stay warm. He had come to a gathering in London as part of his exploration of various political groups. While he wanted to donate money to political causes - he needed to ensure that his money would be well used. And while he had large sums of money, his pot was not endless. He had to make hard decisions about where the money should go. Before he could make any money, he had to see what was out there.

Bertie remained mostly at the edge, keeping to himself. Most people there were hungry, and tired, and they didn't need some posh idiot who knew nothing of their worries to get in their way. Instead, he merely viewed from afar.

It wasn't until someone spoke to him, that he even opened his mouth. A young chap who already knew of him. Clearly a wizard. "Ah, yes!" he replied cheerfully, "Although, I work at Hogsmeade Hospital - not St Mungo's." Bertie studied the chap, trying place him. Bertie did recognise him, did he work for the Daily Prophet? No names came to mind though.

"I'm terribly sorry, you know my name, but I do not know yours."

---

  

Hogsmeade Hospital, not St. Mungo's - Kieran made a mental note of that, because he ought to be accurate with his Knowledge of Random Rich People. "Kieran Abernathy," he said, with a grin - of course he was more anonymous to Aaldenberg than Aaldenberg was to him, and it was sort of endearing that Aaldenberg actually asked.

Key blew air into his gloves again to warm up his fingers. "What do you think of this?" he asked, with a vague gesture towards the crowd.

---

  

Abernathy. Bertie nodded as he took in the name. "Well, Mr Abernathy," Bertie started, ensuring to use the name of his new conversation partner, "I have found the speakers all very interesting. I particularly enjoyed Mr Taylor's speech about the work conditions at the matchstick factory. He is an excellent speaker speaking for an excellent cause."

As much as Bertie felt much for the people protesting, this did not make it to his voice. As was usually the case for Bertie, his voice remained calm, as he stated his well thought out opinions.

"Are you covering the protest for the Prophet?" Bertie asked conversationally, "These parts of London, these things affect both societies."

---

  

"Sort of," Kieran said, raising his notebook at Mr. Aaldenberg. "I'm thinking about a story, but I'm not sure I have enough yet." He wasn't not covering it, but whether or not it went to print remained to be seen.

Aaldenberg had a measured presence; his voice was very conversational, like he was an observer of the protest. Which, Kieran supposed, they both were. "I have some friends who would be into this, but they're not here today," Kieran said.

---

  

Bertie nodded. He had no knowledge of journalism, or where to start with writing a piece. However he was sure that a great deal of research had to go into the piece. That was, if the piece was to be of any quality.

"Oh is that so?" Bertie replied, "I'm afraid I do not have many friends who are interested in such matters. While many gentlemen may have a passing interest in the issues of normal people, I feel such an urge to be involved, to do something." Bertie motioned to the crowd as he spoke, his usually calm voice impassioned.

Was that not what the upper class always said? They claimed to have some pastoral care of the lower classes. They must provide employment, and be leaders of society. However, very few seemed to act on those ideals.

---

  

Oh, great, he'd found another one. Even though Kieran had practically baited Aaldenberg, it was one thing to expect it and another to have it confirmed for him. Yet another bleeding heart who wanted to save the world, just what Kieran needed in his life.

"You should come to the Augurey Beak Cafe sometime," Kieran suggested dutifully. "I know it's got a bit of a reputation, but there's a lot of people with similar interests who hang around there. They've got a bit of a -" he stifled his sigh "- society."

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   Josie Jones

The Augurey Beak Cafe. Yes, yes, Bertie would definitely have to go investigate their society (as Mr Abernathy had put it).

"That sounds marvellous!" Bertie replied happily, utterly intrigued by this Augurey Beak Cafe "I don't mind any place with a reputation. I am not irked by such things! I would be very interested in meeting others with similar interests."

While Bertie thought he was knowledgeable of the matters of the every day person, and thought he was comfortable in rowdy environments, this was 100% factually false. The man was much better suited to reading in his drawing room or the hallways of Hogsmeade Hospital.

---

  

Jude would be pleased with him, Kieran thought, feeling a little out of sorts about this. He was never going tonot share information about the Augurey - he liked his activist friends too much - but talking to actual optimists always made him feel vaguely like he was having an out of body experience. The world was so shitty and they just - kept going.

"Great," Kieran said, "The regular meetings are Thursdays at 6, if that works, but we're usually there." And now he was using we're to describe the group? Was he okay?

"They're interested in fixing - everything, though. Just in case you balk at suffrage or half-breeds."

---

  

"No no!" Bertie replied cheerfully. He prided himself on how no matter bothered him. He was an intellectual, who saw through social prejudice. He did good deeds, and made the world a better place.

Or at least, Bertie liked to think so.

"Thank you very much for that Mr Abernathy!" he continued with a smile, "I suppose I shall see you one Thursday down at the cafe!"

Yes. Bertie would definitely go. Speak to some like minded people. Find some good causes. This would be excellent.

---

  

Kieran was going to have to do something to make up for this, like sass Jude about how monarchy was actually the most viable form of government, or whatever.

"I'll see you then," he said, with his own grin. It was hard to hold the state of the world against people like Mr. Aaldenberg, who wanted to try.

---

  

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set by MJ!

"Indeed!" Bertie replied, beaming at the other man. Yes, this would be good for Bertie. To be introduced to various individuals already in the political community. Bertie was very excited.

After that conversation, Bertie's day went without much further incident. He spent most of the day merely viewing the events, and did not speak to anyone after his conversation with Abernathy.

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