It had been five days since Melody had told him where she went when she left the party. Even as Ben went through the motions of normal life, he seemed to always have that conversation in the back of his mind as an anchor. It's been two days; she hasn't said anything else about Beckett Longbottom yet. It's been three days; no one brought it up at work. It's been four days; is this enough of a window to make a decision that doesn't feel rash? It had been five days, and he still wasn't sure of the answer to that last question. He thought he knew what his decision was, but he wasn't going to pull the trigger on anything or commit to a course of action until he could be confident that he'd really taken the time to think it through from every angle. So far he hadn't landed on anything after his conversation with his sister that would have changed his mind, but he knew — much like Melody's liaison with Beckett Longbottom — that once he acted he wouldn't be able to take anything back. He had to be sure.

He was distracted as he walked through Hogsmeade, moving between the Broomsticks and the Hog's Head for routine order placements and price negotiations. He had been distracted for days. He'd been looking down already, which was the only reason he noticed the pear that rolled in front of his foot before kicking it halfway down the block as he continued. Ben hesitated and dropped his foot down nearby instead of where he'd intended it, then saw the woman who had bent to retrieve it. They recognized each other at the same time. Ben's cheeks flushed slightly without his realizing it. "Mrs. Fisk," he returned, mirroring her greeting in formality. "Sorry — here, let me," he continued, bending to pick the pear up even though she was already closer and better positioned to do so.

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