August, 1884 — High Street

Don Juan had no pets and no inclination to obtain any, but a few days ago at the Broomsticks he'd gotten to chatting with one of their shopkeepers and things had seemed to be going well. He'd dropped by to pay them a visit this afternoon and things had ended up going very well; he'd gotten them alone in the storeroom for a few minutes before the ding of the front door bell had interrupted. He'd waited out the customer with the intention of picking up where they'd left off, but when his latest tryst returned they'd been put off the idea of seduction during working hours. When can I see you again, then? he pressed, and only when he had an answer did he head back to High Street with a cocky grin on his face.

He was looking back over his shoulder as he walked out, which meant he entirely missed that there was — something scuttling underfoot. Someone's pet? An escaped animal? A rat with unfortunate timing? Whatever it was, Don Juan stepped on it — and then stumbled directly into the nearest passerby.

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* I don't care what date so if you do just pick one!

  

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MJ made this <3

The shop was quiet, and she had taken the opportunity to let a few of her more curious creatures roam freely under her watchful eye. Among them was a particularly spirited Kneazle kitten, a mischievous little thing that had an uncanny ability to slip through even the smallest cracks in the enclosure. She was half tempted to keep it rather than include it in the stock - but she had been warned that that was a slippery slope that would lead to her keeping every animal in the store.

As she turned her back for just a moment, she heard a faint scuttle and realized with a start that the Kneazle kitten had darted out of the shop’s open door just as a Hogwarts bound student entered, straight onto the bustling High Street. Maddie rushed out after it, her eyes scanning the ground frantically. She spotted it just as it darted between the legs of a passerby—a man who seemed far too engrossed in whatever had put that cocky grin on his face to notice what was right under his feet.

Her heart sank as she saw his foot come down perilously close to the kitten. Maddie let out a sharp gasp and hurried forward, her usual bright demeanor replaced by a mix of worry and protectiveness. "Watch out!" she called, as she reached out to steady the man and stop him putting his other foot down. She gently but quickly nudged him aside, kneeling down to scoop the tiny Kneazle into her hands, cradling it against her chest. The kitten let out a small, indignant mew, but seemed otherwise unharmed, much to her relief.

Maddie stood, her eyes flashing with a rare glint of annoyance as she looked up at Don Juan. "You nearly trampled my Kneazle," she said, her voice snipped. "You need to watch where you're going. These little ones can get underfoot so easily."

  

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He ought to watch where he was going? He hadn't realized kittens had the right of way on Hogsmeade streets. If it hadn't gotten under his foot it would've gotten under someone else's... or under the hoof of a horse on a passing cab. He suspected it would have come away from that sort of interaction with more than just a disgruntled mewling.

"You oughtn't to let it roam the streets like that," he pointed out. "Especially since you already know it's prone to getting underfoot. Has a death wish, does it?"

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MJ made this <3

Maddie’s protective instincts flared at his dismissive tone, and she held the Kneazle kitten a little closer to her chest. Its soft fur brushed against her chin, grounding her even as irritation prickled beneath her skin. She’d dealt with all kinds of customers before, including the condescending sort, and she wasn’t about to let this 'gentleman' get under her skin.

“I don’t let them roam the streets,” she replied sharply. “It slipped out while I was tending to my shop, and I came after it the moment I realized it was gone. ” Her gaze flicked to the kitten, who was now purring as if it hadn’t just caused her heart to skip several beats. She smoothed its fur absently before turning her sharp blue eyes back to him.

“And no, it doesn’t have a death wish, its only a baby” Maddie continued, her voice steady but firm. “But perhaps it’s lucky that it ran into me before it crossed paths with someone who couldn’t be bothered to look where they were going.” She arched an eyebrow, her meaning clear and if looks could kill he'd be dead and buried.

  

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"I think babies are perfectly capable of having death wishes," he contended, ignoring her glare. She wanted to get huffy about a kitten, that was her business. He couldn't be bothered to look ruffled about something so inconsequential as whether or not it had gotten its whiskers bruised by his boot. "I've never seen one take any positive action to protect itself. Probably little nihilists, the lot of them."

Don Juan was not much of a philosopher, as far as Dempseys went. He'd read some philosophy as a boy, under his tutors, and then had read more as a young man when his older siblings and occasionally his parents had cited someone or quoted someone and made him feel inferior for not knowing (not that he ever let on he was feeling inferior, and certainly not that he had read anything because of it). He liked to reference nihilism from time to time chiefly because it tended to irritate people who did read a lot of philosophy, and Don Juan found their irritation amusing.

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MJ made this <3

Maddie let out a sharp breath through her nose, her patience wearing thinner with every careless word that came out of his mouth. Her grip tightened slightly on the Kneazle kitten, who let out a contented purr despite the lingering tension in her shoulders.

"Oh, so that's your view of things, is it?" she said, her tone cool but edged with something sharper. "That innocence is the same as a death wish? That something small and trusting deserves whatever happens to it just because it doesn't know any better?" Her blue eyes narrowed, her lip curling slightly. "Tell me, do you make a habit of taking advantage of naïveté, or is it just helpless creatures you have so little regard for?"

She shifted the kitten in her arms, absently stroking its soft fur as she kept her gaze locked on him. "I suppose it must be nice, walking through life thinking anything weaker than you is simply asking to be trampled underfoot," she continued, her voice dripping with disdain. "But some of us actually take care of things, rather than just shrugging when they get hurt."

Maddie huffed, shaking her head, as if she’d already decided he wasn’t worth any further breath. "You might find it amusing to prattle on about nihilism like it’s some grand joke, but I’d wager you wouldn’t much like being on the receiving end of that philosophy." She exhaled sharply, adjusting her grip on the Kneazle. "Not that I expect you'd admit it."
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She certainly had a lot to say about the subject. Don Juan hadn't presumed that a young woman found clutching a kitten on High Street would have avid opinions about philosophy, but apparently he was wrong; she was acting just like the philosophers did when he struck a nerve with a joke. He would have found this more amusing if he had been draped in an armchair in someone's parlor with a drink or a cigarette in hand; provoking philosophiles wasn't the High Street activity. There was nowhere for him to lounge while looking entirely unconcerned with her diatribe. There was one piece of her little rant that stuck out to him and nearly made him laugh, though. "Taking advantage of naivete," he echoed, clearly amused though he'd managed to hold back a chuckle. "Rather infamously, I'm afraid, yes. I assume we haven't met, then?"

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MJ made this <3

Maddie’s brow arched sharply, her fingers still idly stroking the kitten’s fur as she gave him a once-over—properly, this time. Unfortunately, he was handsome. The kind of handsome that probably let him get away with far too much, if his smugness was anything to go by. If she had met him before, she doubted she’d have forgotten it.

But she wasn’t about to let him know that.

Her lips pressed together for a brief moment before she scoffed. “Should I recognize you?” she asked, voice laced with cutting skepticism. “Or do you simply assume every woman in Hogsmeade keeps a running tally of infamous—” she gave him a slow, pointed look up and down, as though weighing the proper word, “—scoundrels?”

She adjusted the kitten in her arms, her glare unwavering. “I can’t say I make a habit of keeping track of men like—that.”

  

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Don Juan looked at her looking at him; he knew when he was being surveyed. He shifted his weight and fished a cigarette out of his interior jacket pocket, determined to look carefree and cool. As for whether she should recognize him — he'd bet she would know the name, were he to introduce himself. Maybe she was young enough that she wouldn't have followed his scandal in the papers when he'd fled the country for Spain, but his brother's election had given him something of a renaissance of relevance. People had started inviting him to parties again, which meant that people at parties had been obliged to talk about whether or not he ought to be there. He could spot a conversation about him from across the ballroom; they always looked his way with the same sorts of expressions.

But she didn't know his face, clearly; fair enough. It had been at least half a year since he'd done anything scandalous enough to land his picture in Witch Weekly. He lit his cigarette. "Maybe you should," he said with a lazy smile. "You'd have more fun that way."

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MJ made this <3

Maddie narrowed her eyes the moment the match flared. Of course he smoked. The casual confidence was clear he was just to making a point. And she caught that look, too—that lazy half-smile, like he expected her to laugh, blush, maybe ask for a light and then hang off his arm all the way to a scandal.

She had to suppress the sharp exhale that almost escaped her, bristling. The implication prickled at her skin. That her life—her choices—were missing some crucial ingredient. That being the sort of woman who caught fire in gossip columns was preferable to simply minding her own bloody business.

Maddie had had quite enough of scandal. Enough whispered judgments behind fluttered fans, enough half-truths in column inches, and enough people mistaking a girl’s survival for ambition. Her notoriety had never been of her choosing, and she certainly wasn’t eager for more. She had been more than pleased when Ana had declared her a failure and returned to Russia.

“Fun,” she echoed flatly, eyes flicking from his cigarette to his smile, unimpressed. “Yes, I suppose being a footnote in someone else’s dramatic little ruin must be absolutely thrilling.” She adjusted the kitten in her arms again—her excuse not to slap the grin off his face.

“I think I’ll find other ways to amuse myself.” She raised an eyebrow coolly. “Ways that don’t require headlines or… your kind of company.” she brushed the kittens head and prepared to leave him to his cigarette and her 'admonishment'

  

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He wasn't sure whether he was the footnote in her metaphor or she was. Based on her tone he assumed it was probably intended to be a jab at him, but it didn't land as well as she might have hoped. He didn't worry about being a footnote in the stories of people he'd ruined. Maybe the rest of society moved on; his victims, so to speak, did not. He had no doubt at all that his chapter was the defining one in Elfrieda Yaxley's story. Maybe being a footnote would have been preferable, for all involved.

"Suit yourself," he said, blowing out a thin steam of smoke.

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MJ made this <3

Maddie had never found the smell of cigarette smoke appealing, and she liked it even less when it was paired with smugness.

“I will,” she said crisply, stepping back with the kitten still nestled protectively in her arms,

He blew out smoke like it made him untouchable. Maybe it did—in his world. But in hers, charm like his was just a gaudy warning sign dressed up in nice clothes.

She turned on her heel with no further farewell, her skirts snapping at her ankles as she walked away, chin high and pace brisk. The kitten let out a soft, uncertain squeak and Maddie gave its head a gentle rub with her thumb.

“You’re lucky,” she murmured under her breath. “You’ve still got an excuse for not knowing better.”

Some people, she thought, had none.

  

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