January 16th, 1889 — High Street

The last thing that Kate wanted to do, so soon after their debut in the paper, was to venture out into the town. She was frightened to imagine what might happen to them if they were recognized by even one person — and most likely Isaac would be recognized by everyone. Everyone, at least, who read The Daily Prophet. Still, she saw the danger of trying to keep Isaac cooped up in their little house indefinitely. Besides, he was missing his journal since they'd arrived in England, and she didn't have the heart to deny the boy anything that it was in her power to give.

So here they were, out in England for the first time. The street was busy enough, but everything was so different from what Kate was used to seeing in the open-air marketplaces and stalls of Morocco. The cold, too, was something she only barely remembered from her youth. The frost clinging here and there to the shingles of the roofs or the cobbles of the road looked like something from a fairy tale, as though Hogsmeade had been drawn in a book and then forced to life with a spell that was working bit by bit.

All of the stores looked the same from her perspective. How were they supposed to know where to find a new journal? She had no idea, but she was loathe to ask someone. So far they had gone undetected (or at least, no one had been bold enough to speak to them if they were recognized), but she didn't want to invite a conversation by seeking out directions.

"I suppose we just have to peer into all the windows?" Kate speculated, looking over the storefronts as she clutched Isaac's hand tightly.

  

Mina was out shopping for new stockings for Juniper, weaving in and out of the crowds on her way to the little, out-of-the-way way shop that sold the brand Juniper preferred, when she nearly stumbled into a pair of children. A teenaged girl was clutching the hand of a boy that looked to be her younger brother. They were peering around, looking lost, and Mina couldn't see anyone who looked like their parents in the nearby crowd.

"Are you two lost?" she asked, pausing in front of the pair. "Can I help you?" She wasn't a mother herself, but she'd always had a soft spot for kids.

---

Mina hardly ever reads the Daily Prophet - she thinks it's biased against half-breeds - so she never saw the article about the kids

  

Isaac was simply glad to have finally gotten out of the house for a bit. At least there in Hogsmeade it didn't smell the way it had when they'd arrived in London initially. He could deal with the cold there but the smell was a different story entirely. It was still going to take some adjustment as she shivered slightly even with his thick wool jacket on.

"You'd think they could have more noticeable signs out front," he said with a bit of a huff just before a woman approached them. He looked up to her from where he stood next to this sister. He didn't hide behind Kate this time, though he was hesitant to actually speak to the woman. Ever since the talk of how people there might not like them because of who their father was, he was unsure of how to proceed around others. He just hoped this lady would be nice.

---

  

Kate tensed slightly as the pair were approached, but the woman in question certainly didn't look like she had malicious intent. She just looked like a normal woman, and one that probably wouldn't hurt a fly.

"Yes," Katherine answered uncertainly. As much as she didn't want to invite conversation or prolong this outing unnecessarily, she'd decided it would be best to trust this woman. It would help then greatly to know where they going, and the alternative would be to brush her off, which would be rude.

"We're looking to buy a small journal," she told the woman. "Do you know where something like that would be sold?"

  

Mina smiled brightly at the pair. She noticed that the girl had an accent, a faint one, but couldn't for the life of her place it. She didn't just didn't sound quite... British, that was all. "It'll be Scrivenshafts for you, loves."

She craned her head over the crowd unil she spotted the sign she was looking for. "The store with the quill on the front, yeah?" Pointing, she looked back at the kids. "Can you get there by yourself, you think? Just down the road, I swear."

---

  

---

Kate stood on her tiptoes as she followed the woman's gaze. At first she didn't think she understood and wondered if the woman had more of an accent than she had at first realized. The word Scrivenshaft was a new one to her, and no one had ever called her love before, which made it difficult to parse together the woman's meaning. She did catch sight of the sign with the quill on it, though, and then things started to make sense.

"Oh! Thank you," she said with a slight flush of her cheeks. The woman had asked if they could manage, which made Kate feel suddenly self-conscious. Did it look as though perhaps they couldn't? Was there some unknown danger between their current position and the storefront? "I think we'll be alright, ma'am," she said a little shyly, giving Isaac's hand a quick squeeze as though to reassure him, though he had given her no indication that he needed reassuring.

  

Well, the girl was definitely not British, but goodness knew from where she really came. Mina decided it didn't particularly matter. "Oh, lovely! I hope you find what you need." Giving the girl a pat on the arm, Mina grinned and bid the pair of kids fairwell. "And look out for yourselves, you two. If you get lost again, ask for the Three Broomsticks. There's a floo there, should get you home right quick." Making sure her her bag was secure in her arms, Mina turned and wove her way off back into the crowd.

---

  

---

The woman patted her arm, and Kate felt her confidence bolstered somewhat. This woman seemed genuinely nice, and she hadn't said a word about their father. Whether she hadn't recognized them or had consciously chosen not to bring it up, the result was the same, and it made Kate feel less wary about venturing out of doors again.

The Three Broomsticks she could understand — though she had no idea what it was and would have assumed from the title they sold flying equipment or perhaps Quidditch gear — but the word floo was just as strange to her as Scrivenshaft's. "A floo?" she mumbled, but the woman was already turning and disappearing into the crowd.

"Oh, well," she said to Isaac, turning her attention instead towards the sign with the quill on it. "I suppose we'll manage alright. How difficult could it be, after all?"