26 February, 1895 — Diagon Alley

Ezra had been having an interesting few months. The candy from New Year had been benign by the standards of the investigation department, but while he was under its influence it had certainly been disruptive to his life — he'd spent two weeks thinking he was cursed or going crazy, or both. The incident at work from the end of January and seen him entangled with a healer far more closely than anyone would have liked, and that had taken weeks to sort out. And then the mysterious watercolor, allegedly painted of his soul mate. It was wrong, he knew that. Probably just an odd prank. It was still strange, and following on the heels of a year full of strange occurrences it had weighed on his mind more heavily than it might have at another time.

The streets of Diagon Alley were full of slush today, remnants of the last snowfall that had partially melted, frozen over again, mixed with the dirt and grime of the street, and become something thoroughly unpleasant. Compared to some of the freak blizzards they'd suffered in years past Ezra knew he couldn't complain, but he was still rushing to finish his errands and get back to the nearest floo. Most other people had the same idea; everyone was bundled up against the cold and bustling by as fast as was safe on the patchwork of cobblestones with ice clinging in the cracks.

Ahead of him someone opened a window on a second floor, probably a shopkeepers residence above their place of employment. The motion dislodged some of the icy snow remaining on the roof, which began to slide down towards the street as a single smooth grey mass. Ezra was clear of it, but the woman in front of him wouldn't be.

"Protego," he called. His wand had already been in his outside jacket pocket but still he only just managed to get it out in time. His wand motion was sloppy and he feared he hadn't saved her from all of it, in the end, though he evidently had prevented at least the bulk of it from hitting her over the head. With the size and weight of it, it might have knocked her out if he hadn't intervened. He stepped forward, over the mountain of snow that had just fallen off the edges of his shield charm. "Are you alr—" he started, then stopped abruptly when he got a look at her face. It was, unmistakably, the woman he'd received a watercolor of earlier that month.

"— alright," he said after an entirely egregious pause. He cleared his throat. "Are you alright?"

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Open to a woman Ezra doesn't already know well. Theoretical loose connections like Hogwarts overlap are fine. Not necessarily hurling, but it could be!

  

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Thea wasn't at home in London, it was far too busy, it smelled diabolical and it just felt that the whole world was in a terrible rush, the best day in London was like the worst day in Hogsmeade market. But unfortunately, there were things that London had that she just couldn't get nearer to home and so here she was, but at least she was hopefully about ready to floo home soon. Her shoes clipped along the cobbled streets in her thick tartan trenchcoat, why was the weather so awful, it was February, the spring flowers would be up soon and their bulbs might not survive a freak cold snap.

She had the strangest sense when her world was suddenly surrounded by cold wet snow. Most of it was stopped by the shimmering shield that someone had put up over her but not all and she shrieked as the first tendrils of cold snuck down her collar and touched her spine. She looked up and then around her to see what was going on. There was a tall man behind her with his wand in hand and clearly responsible for the protego charm that now mostly surrounded them. She wanted to cry and swear with the discomfort she was feeling in the forsaken city, but now she was in front of a gentleman who she now owed for saving her from a worse fate, the dignified governess was who she needed to be.

"Thank you for your quick actions, sir." she said, her pleasant smile clearly had an element that showed she wasn't feeling on the inside how she tried to show on the outside, but she was genuinely grateful for the man, seeing the thicker lumps of frozen snow certainly made her feel like she may have been incapacitated.

He stuttered his words a little and she replied, worried she had looked cross at him. "I am fine, cold, but it could have been much worse. I am in your debt. Sir" she took a few breaths to calm herself and tried to forget that her undergarments were less warm and dry than they were moments before.

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Ezra Applegate

  

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"Oh, no," Ezra hurried to say. He didn't like the idea of anyone feeling they were in his debt, and really his rescue had been lackluster at best. If he'd been quicker with his wand he might have saved her from all of the snow. It was clear he hadn't done that, given the way she'd shrieked when it hit her. He was purposefully not checking to see how bad it was, so that she didn't get the impression he was giving her a look-over... particularly if any large patches of her dress were wet. It probably wouldn't show anything more than usual given she was wearing a thick, bulky trench coat, but he certainly didn't want her jumping to any conclusions.

"I'm only sorry I couldn't save you from more of it. You're sure you're alright, Miss...?"

Was it too much to ask for her name like this? He didn't know her, obviously, or he would have recognized her when the watercolor had been delivered. The curve of her cheekbones and the way they framed her eyes was striking; he wouldn't have forgotten that if they had been acquainted previously. And this was hardly the right venue for an introduction, but he felt — well. She wasn't his soulmate, that bit was clearly rubbish, but someone had delivered a watercolor of her to him and claimed that she was important. It felt odd to let her go without having at least learned her name.

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Dorothea found her natural smile returning more easily as she had now had a chance to recompose herself and had gotten over the intital shock from the icy water that managed to escape the defensive charm. "Miss Potts, Dorothea." she responded politely. "And I am fine, nothing a little time in front of a fire won't fix. Thank you, might I also know your name?" she asked of him.

She looked at the man having a few more moments to take a little of him in, she was an inquisitive sort and she tried thinking of any faces she might already know, he looked a little older than her but it was so difficult to guess those specifics. She rolled her shoulders a little trying to regain her comfort. "I think I would like to hang my coat up and get some warmth into, would you join me for a hot drink. There is a darling cafe not far down the street. It's not much but I would like to express a little thanks for not just walking by and letting me end up under a drift." It was a polite invitation that she hoped was not taken the wrong way.

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Ezra Applegate

  

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