Feb 25th, 1890 — Diagon Alley

Gwendolyn Vane-Tempest was cold, and the hems of her petticoats were sodden from the streets, and osmosis was dragging the dirty rain water further and further up her legs, she could feel it at her shins. Her buttoned boots were pinching her toes and her new long corset was chaffing her leg. And yet, anyone looking at the Countess of Addinbury would know that she was a seething ball of miserable uncomfortable fury.

She didn’t have a footman with her today and so her packages and parcels, mostly new fancies and items of small haberdashery where shrunk into her purse, a tasseled and beaded French confection which hung from her slim wrist and jangled as she moved. Its small size belied the fact it was laden with a few galleons worth of haberdashery – but thus was the power of magic.

She stopped at a booksellers, examining the table in front of the store window and the leather and vellum bound volumes that were offered for sale there. As she leaned over she felt a sharp tug at her elbow and felt the delicate chain of her handbag snap free. It took her a moment to realise what had happened, and to incredulously affirm that her handbag was indeed gone. Peering around the crowded highstreet she sought out the culprit

(helping her? Getting accused? Maybe you actually did it! Pretty open)

  

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MJ is queen
Gwen is referred to as Countess of Adinbury by others, but as Lady Adinbury when you are speaking to her

Baron Crossridge, for all the straight-backed dignity of his quiet and noble existence, was entirely out of his element. His young son, a student at Hogwarts school of... well, you know, had written home to request a new copy of book he apparently could not order "by owl". The boy of course expected a servant to purchase and send the text, but in an instinctive display of fatherly dedication, Djura had decided to do so himself. He regretted it. For he had a wizard in his employ for precisely this sort of world-crossing, and despite the wizard's skill it was a very uncomfortable spell that brought Djura Crossridge from his quiet home in Irvingly to one extremely odd alleyway in Charing Cross. He gruffly thanked his wizard escort, and proceeded to search for the bookshop on his own, frowning as his silver cane splashed down into a puddle of increasing rainwater.

He was a Colonel, a Baron, a decorated war veteran, yes, yes, this was all true — but he was still capable of foolish decisions, and actively choosing today's adventure was one of them.

What happened next did so quickly. An ethereal lady pausing outside the bookshop ahead was jostled suddenly by a shadowy figure, who then dashed in Djura's direction at a focussed pace. Limp forgotten, Djura's military instincts kicked in without hesitation as with whiplash quickness he grabbed the arm of the ne'er-do-well in a vice-like grip, and snatched back the handbag.

Successful though the rangy Baron had been, he was what these people called a "muggle". So as the thief drew what he knew to be a magic wand, Djura knew at once he was now outmatched almost by default...

  

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The little urchin struggled in the grip of the broad shoulder gentleman who grabbed him by the arm with such blinding quickness it caught Gwendolyn by surprise. The lad looked no more than 14 – clearly having gone to Hogwarts and having left after his first year the way many of his ilk were want to do. But he had a wand! How capable he was of using it Gwen had no idea – perhaps the wand was another of his stolen treasures.

To her continued surprise the gentleman didn’t respond to the drawing of a wand, perhaps he was brave, but perhaps he was one of the few muggles, with magical family members who had access to Diagon Alley. Gwen wasn’t about to take the risk of her saviour being hexed within an inch of his life by some ragged urchin for saving her bag.

Pulling her own wand from the concealed pocket of her dress she cast a disarming spell -simple but effective. The urchin tried to counter it but Gwen had clearly got the measure of him and his magic barely passed muster. His wand glowed, emitted a sad yellow spark but was then thrown from his hand by her spell. Gwen was no duelist – she had left school at 16 to go to finishing school in France – but she could best an ignorant street boy if no one else.


Djura Crossridge

  

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MJ is queen
Gwen is referred to as Countess of Adinbury by others, but as Lady Adinbury when you are speaking to her

Djura should have predicted that wizardry would rear its unwelcome head, for they were on a street of magic broomstick shops and bubblejuice cafés haunted by attic ghouls. It would have been stranger if the thief had not drawn a magic wand. But Djura was not just a so-called "muggle", but a muggle who'd discovered the wizarding world in his forties. He would never get used to it.

And he would never forgive it.

The weapon was not enough for the brave Baron to unhand him, and soon the weapon went flying anyway; disarmed, Djura swiftly realised, by the elegant young woman. A witch.

As the grey clouds above threatened to open to rain, Djura held onto his quarry — the boy's skinny arm in one hand, the handbag in the other. He held this out for the lady to reclaim. "Madam", he gave a curt nod to the stranger, not yet sure how to address her, but assuming societal quality based on appearance alone. "Where should I bring this boy to face the consequences of his actions?" For Baron Crossridge was a stranger in a strange land; he could hardly march this little wizard up to the nearest Metropolitan Police Station.

... Right?

  

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As she neared the pair, she accio’ed the wand which sailed into her hand. ’Probably stolen’ she scoffed and deposited it into her purse, she could have it snapped or given to the aurors – she would decide that later. Her ladies maid had skittered off to see if one of the shopkeepers could use his fireplace to call the aurors to take the boy into custody.

When she realised who held the boy by his arm her mouth dropped open with shock to the degree that it took her a moment to realise that it was conduct unbecoming a countess. ’My Lord Crossridge?’ she asked her confusion evident in her tone. It had been some years since Gwendolyn had shared company with the Baron, and while there were many great houses of England where she might not have expected to remake his acquaintance – the wet streets of diagon alley were not among them. As far as Gwen knew he was a muggle! Her family was one of the very few magical peerages of England, thanks to her own mothers introduction of magic into the Sherington bloodline, and her husbands predated them by only one generation.

’I cannot be mistaken! It is you Baron!’

  

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MJ is queen
Gwen is referred to as Countess of Adinbury by others, but as Lady Adinbury when you are speaking to her

The wizarding world was as perpetually strange to Djura as a forest would be to a dolphin. Everyone who walked this higgledy-piggledy street, friend or foe, was a stranger to him — and thus he had shrugged off the nagging familiarity that the victim of the pickpocket was someone he knew. These soggy cobbles were a world away from the grand houses of England, where both adults present had met before.

Djura turned dark eyes to her wand. The wife of the Earl of Adinbury was... a witch.

"Countess..." he responded slowly, respect but uncertainty in his deep voice. So she had met with him in the past, all the while concealing this grand secret. She was too young to have met Djura's wife, Baroness Calliope, but if she had perhaps she would've been able to use "magic" to save her life. The thought threatened resentment.

"The boy picked his mark well, then", he observed, looking down at the pickpocket whose arm remained in Djura's grasp. Sure enough, the lad wasn't quick enough to wipe away his expression of self-satisfaction that he'd stolen from a Countess.

  

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’Didn’t he just’ Gwen harrumphed, and fought the urge to grab the insolent boys ear, the boy was lucky that Baron Crossridge had only grabbed him by the arm, she had seen one such thief stopped with a stunning charm that sent him toppling face first into a curb, smashing the boys nose and front teeth, a finger bruised arm and a scalped ear would see him off easy.

’I’m not even sure the little rat is worth the aurors time.’ she grumbled, and saw her maid heading back in her direction – not an auror in sight. ’The aurors will be 30 mins Madame.’ she explained and Gwen rolled her eyes. ’You might as well let the little rat go My lord Crossridge, I have his wand there is only so much damage he can do now.’ Gwens eyes were narrowed at the little boy who didn’t look in the least bit chastened.

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MJ is queen
Gwen is referred to as Countess of Adinbury by others, but as Lady Adinbury when you are speaking to her

Djura glowered down at the boy, his cold face betraying a dangerous expression as he regarded him. It was enough for even this cocky brat to cower. Personally, Djura felt it wrong that the lad wasn't to be traditionally punished — what kind of justice did they have in the wizarding world? The problem was, Djura did not wish to embed himself further in said world by marching this boy down to whatever their equivalent of a Police Station was.

So he didn't argue. The Countess was right; he didn't have his foolish magic stick any more, so at least there was that. Fighting every instinct in his body, the solid Baron let go of the boy, who vanished into the nearest alleyway like a shadow into the night.

With no such foul distractions remaining, and the rain showing no sign of returning, Djura looked at the Countless now, as if finally seeing her properly. "So", he began slowly, deigning to address the elephant in the room. "You are..." a witch, he wanted to say, but the word seemed extremely discourteous to him. "In possession of a magic wand."

He wondered how many more of his peers held the same secret. It didn't bear thinking about.

  

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The barons discomfort was evident, initially she had thought that it was to do with the little thief, whose disappearing back was still just visible through the crowd, as he nab an apple from an apple cart and received a stinging heck from the cart owner as he just kept running. ’Yes Lord Crossridge’ she affirmed, her lips twisting in a smile, ’I am indeed in possession of a wand, two now.’. she jibed glibly indicating the wand confiscated from the urchin.

’Am I right in presuming that you are….not’ the Countess asked rather pointedly. There were few magical peerages in England, fewer still at the rank that Gwendolyn held – Viscount Corcrest would be one of the only ones she had any intimacy with, as soon as his father passed that was. But that felt terribly mercenary to consider. The number of Barons couldn’t be much more than 3 that Gwendolyn knew of – but then she hadn’t know of Lord Crossridge and his family. Or perhaps he had somehow found is way into Diagon alley by chance.

’What brings you to The Alley Lord Crossridge? It is hardly T.J. paxtons*’ she trilled

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*Paxtons was a fancy department store in London where 'going shopping' was effectively invented.

  

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MJ is queen
Gwen is referred to as Countess of Adinbury by others, but as Lady Adinbury when you are speaking to her

Djura gave a curt not to affirm her suspicions — indeed, he did not have a wand. He would not ever have a wand. Isaac had shown him his with great enthusiasm, and Djura had been able to feign an inkling of interest... but that was about it.

Still reeling from the unpleasant surprise of discovering the young Countess's true identity, Djura felt a prickling sensation that it would be prudent to drop this subject as soon as possible. For almost every "magical" person he'd ever met had revealed in themselves a staggering superiority complex; and Djura did not want to see that from the Countess. He rather liked her, after all.

But he felt obliged to explain, and so he did. "My boy Isaac has been enrolled in the wizard school. Hogwarts. But he's missing a book, so I've taken it upon myself to acquire it for him."

  

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'Oh how charming' she said, genuinly thrilled, 'he shall be in good company, it is not Eton but my sisters children are in Hogwarts, so he shall not be alone.' Gwen was rather used to straddling the worlds between magic and nobility. The purebloods believed themselves to be equal to the nobility but it was a delusion in Gwens opinion. The presence of the nobility in the magical world was a boon to them, rather than magic somehow bestowing honor onto the ranks of the nobles - after all there was no greater honour or responsibility than being part of the nobility- any pauper could develop magic, only the truely blessed were counted amoung the peerages.

'Flourish and Blotts will have it' she explained, 'You will need to get an owl for the house to keep in touch with him and making sure that you don't have to come here too often, as you have seen it can be a den of thieves. ' Gwen realised she was speaking rather fast and with fluency as though all of this was normal, and stopped short, flashing him a wide smile. 'This must be all rather much to deal with' she laughed, 'My mother still talks about how my father handled the news that his family were likely to have...abilities. When did you find out about Issac?'

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MJ is queen
Gwen is referred to as Countess of Adinbury by others, but as Lady Adinbury when you are speaking to her

OOC: I think the div tag in your post was left open maybe? :)

It was often the case that when Djura engaged in conversation like this he did so without betraying any of his true feelings. Since the war, he'd never wanted to be part of any social engagement — but he went anyway. And this particular unexpected meeting had the added intensity of knowing how much he loathed wizarding kind and what they'd done...

Or not done.

The Countess was enthusiastic and evidently gladdened by their encounter and the news that Isaac was a wizard, but Djura could not bring himself to share her laughter.

"Flourish and Blotts it is", he replied when the Countess explained where he'd find the textbook. "Would you care to join me, before the heavens open again."

He had no intention of getting an "owl for the house", as she put it, but he kept a wizarding servant who sorted these sorts of things out for him. But in this particular case, Djura had decided to retrieve the book with his own two hands.

"I found out about Isaac not one year ago." Much had transpired since then. "How did your father react?"

  

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She nodded her assent and fell into step beside him, her ladies maid scuttling along in his wake. 'Oh my' she trilled, 'still so new!' She wouldn't scare him with the fact that there was almost certainly more to come for him - the first time a house-elf appeared to deliver a message, or when one of the children asked for the house to be connected to the fluu - and he hadn't even mentioned his daughter! Perhaps if the son was a wizard there was a solid chance his daughter was too. Gwen did secretly wonder if the late Baroness might have been a witch - not all magical types told their muggle other halves -at least not until there was proof that the child had magic.


'I shouldn't worry' she said instead, 'Hogwarts is a fine enough school for a young gentleman to attend' she instead explained, deciding that there was no point in traumatizing him yet. 'I would not fret, although we always had a schoolmaster in the home for the summers to make sure we did all of the usual mug...non-magical educational subjects as well.' Hogwarts was indeed fine, as long as your intention was to make your life exclusively within the confines of magical society, where one needed to look further afield - such as holding a peerage, knowledge of goblin rebellions was rather less useful than knowing when the Jacobite rebellions took place - or the current state of non-magical politics.


'I presume your son is incredibly excited?' she enthused.

  

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MJ is queen
Gwen is referred to as Countess of Adinbury by others, but as Lady Adinbury when you are speaking to her

As much as he'd once appreciated the Countess's charms and graces, he was now seeing more and more of what he'd experienced to be classic wizarding behaviour. She was doling out advice as if Djura had asked for it, acting as if he'd neither investigated Isaac's school nor prepared for his full education. Djura was not as prideful as his peers, but he had come to resent the way magical people spoke to non-magicals.

He hoped Isaac would not turn out that way too.

"Yes, he is excited." He noticed that the Countess had not responded to his question about her father, but he was content to let it drop. Here in this bizarre, higgledy-piggledy alleyway, Djura sought some topic of relative normalcy as they headed for the bookshop.

"How is the Earl?"

  

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Oblivious, and in full possession of the self-confidence that only a woman of fortune and position could possibly hold, Gwen breezed right on past any reticence she might have read in his face. Why should she expect to see it there? As far as she was concerned the, being a noble made you superior, being a wizard or a witch made you better than muggles - so being both was just about the best thing on the planet. If she was asked (probably while having had a few two many) Gwen would probably admit that she saw wizarding nobility as more worthy of holding the crown of England than a muggle queen. After all was it not a magical sword that bestowed the kingship of England in the stories of England?

But that wasn't something for this conversation. 'He is well' she responded, a small tightness pulling at her lips, the statement was true, as long as you ignored the pressure and arguments that were resulting from their issues conceiving. Those were not for public consumption either. 'You shall have to come up for a house party' she breezed, happy to move the conversation back to safer ground. 'The Earl should be delighted of your company at the cards or the hunt.'

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MJ is queen
Gwen is referred to as Countess of Adinbury by others, but as Lady Adinbury when you are speaking to her

These days, the concept of a house party hit him with a dull kind of distaste. But being invited to a house party by... ahem... a witch... now that was an even more unpleasant concept. For a moment Djura dared wonder what Tempest Park was like in its "wizarding" form.

He inclined his head respectfully at the suggested invitation. "Do send him my regards", he said of the Earl. The witch's husband... what a world.

Shortly they arrived at Flourish and Blotts, a bookshop that suggested chaos and nonsense by its very name. Djura stifled a sigh at the notion of navigating the no-doubt whimsical little establishment. "Well, I'd best find my son's book. Thank you for your company, Lady Vane-Tempest. It has been... quite the afternoon."

  

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