September 23rd, 1891 — Hogsmeade Market

The first time Meri had visited Hogsmeade after coming home it'd felt a bit odd to be back.  She couldn’t put her finger on why but it had almost felt like she didn’t have a place there anymore.  Of course that was gone now.  With Elsie in Bartonburg, she'd had plenty of excuses to make the trip for visits and now the village felt as familiar to her as it ever had.

She walked the open market at an easy pace, more there for diversion than anything.  The open air was a welcome relief from the closeness of London and the pervasive smell of wand polish that filled Ollivander's.  Even now, she could almost smell the scent of fresh wood shavings on the light breeze that danced around her.  Briefly stopping at a table selling ribbons, a small voice in her head chided her for being about without a chaperone like all the other visitors of the ribbon table seemed to have.  She soon shrugged the thought away; Did spinsters even needed a chaperone?

With a mind to find fresh seeds for her mother's greenhouse, she moved toward the agricultural area of the market where the tables were laden with seasonal fruits and vegetables.  The flash of panic hit her before she even realized why - she'd spied a familiar form in the corner of her eye.  She briefly wondered if she could pretend she had not seen him (technically she hadn't, maybe it wasn't even him!)  but the risk of insult was too great.  And she definitely didn’t want to insult him.  It was just… it was him

After a moment to gather herself she turned to face him… and yes it was him... with a poorly suppressed smirk.  "Professor?"

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Elliot Carmichael

  

Elliot liked to visit Hogsmeade when he could — it kept him connected to the wizarding world more than Wales did, and maintaining that connection was important, lest he become an actual recluse. (People who spent time thinking about accidentally becoming recluses were, in Elliot's experience, at more of a risk of doing so. So he had to be smart about things.)

He was trying to figure out which fruits would be helpful to cook, and not annoying, when he heard Professor! Elliot might have thought it was an accident, except there she was, with that familiar smirk on her face. He grinned at her.

"Miss Reid," Elliot said, "Fancy seeing you here."

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When he greeted her smirk grew into an easy grin.  Of course they were sharing a joke… but also how could she not when faced with a smile like that? 

"I should say the same to you!  It's only a few weeks into the semester - I'm sure they'd let you back in."  She shifted uneasily on her feet as she watched his face closely.  For all their correspondences, run-ins, and general history this felt new - this playfulness.  Well at least it felt new being this blatant about it.  And well… it felt like a bit like she was pushing a boundary somehow. 

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"Oh, they'd probably at least make me re-interview at this point," Elliot said brightly, amused by her grin. He'd never told her how long he'd been out of Hogwarts - this would be the fourth semester without him teaching there. And he did miss it, still. But that was not the point at the moment, and his tone was light — he was matching her playfulness, and couldn't help it.

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Boring business meeting over with, Savino had avoided his mother and her dreaded social plans for him and disappeared to Hogsmeade, in hopes she would not go looking for him there. Certainly not amidst the market, anyway, where he had thus far picked up some eggs, a white rooster – alive in a little square cage hanging off his shoulder, entrails still included – and had wandered over to the fruits and vegetable stalls, in need of precisely fifty-three peas.

As he counted out the bagful to be sure he had enough, he overheard someone nearby say Miss Reid, which was a familiar name – but not one he had expected to hear here. In Britain, that was. The last time he had met her was before he’d left Italy, and as far as he’d known that was where she still was.

He didn’t know her well, but as he turned Savino recognised the wand-making witch more or less immediately, and waved in bemusement at her actually being here. “It is you!” he exclaimed, forgetting in the moment that he was obviously interrupting.

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The exclamation didn’t include her name but it was close enough that it pulled her attention none the less.  Finding the speaker it became obvious that the exclamation was indeed for her.  It took her a moment to piece together who he was… after all she'd only known him in a place and time she thought she'd completely put behind her. 

"Signore Zabini?" she asked, so utterly surprised it was worth confirming it was actually him.  "What are you doing in Hogsmeade?" With a baffled smile she'd turned to step closer to her old acquaintance before realizing she'd abandoned her manners and nearly abandoned Mr. Carmichael. 

"Forgive me," she said, flashing an apologetic glance to Mr. Carmichael.  Instead of moving towards him, she beckoned the newcomer to join them.  "Mr. Carmichael, this is Sig. Zabini.  I met him while studying in Italy.  Sig. Zabini - this is Mr. Elliot Carmichael.  He was my Divination Professor" It was not the most graceful of introductions but it was fortuitous.  In her limited interactions with Sig. Zabini she'd always thought he and Mr. Carmichael ought to meet. 

To Sig. Zabini she added "You may recall me mentioning having differing experiences in Divination with someone…" Instead of finishing her the thought, she simply waved a hand towards Mr. Carmichael with a wry grin.

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Elliot felt rather awkward until Miss Reid remembered him and pointed him out to Signore Zabini — and then he could connect the dots. This Zabini was related to the other Zabinis, but, more notably — he had an interest in Divination.

"And is Mr. Zabini interested in Divination?" Elliot asked, with a flash of a smile — like he hadn't already heard, like people didn't tell him when there were new Divination scholars in Britain. It was more polite to pretend not to know; they could do this awkward little introductory dance and then they could chat.

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“I could ask you the same question!” Savino exclaimed cheerfully to her. It was not as though he’d had time to get to know her well in Italy, and not as if he hadn’t met people here in the last year too, but – he still felt lonelier in Britain than he had been at home, so anyone he could even faintly call a friend was someone for which he was immeasurably grateful.

Especially people who understood.

Bundling the things he’d bought at the market already out of his way for the moment, Savino extended a hand to shake the former professor’s. “Delighted to meet you,” he said, perhaps a little too warmly – but he had heard of Mr. Carmichael from Miss Reid, and more recently from Ruby, and couldn’t just feign reticence for the sake of it. “I confess I didn’t think anyone could have the Sight and not be very interested in Divination,” Savino answered directly, glancing from one to the other with an echoed grin, “but Miss Reid was an exception to that rule.”

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   Temerita Reid

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Meri opened her mouth to reply, a guilty smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, but struggled a bit to find words for her own defense.  The very picture of someone who'd been called out and knew it, she cleared her throat before finally managing a response.  "I was... interested.  I took divination every year it was available to me!" her guilty grin lingered as if she knew this was a blatantly weak defense.  "...It just did not agree with me." 

She shifted uneasily on her feet, feeling a sudden flush of the old embarrassment she'd always felt around her former teacher.  "Mr. Carmichael, unfortunately, knows this better than anyone.  I once tried to convince him my tarot cards were broken."  By now she was pointedly avoiding eye contact with either of them, stricken by the image of her teenage self storming into his office, fueled by frustration and stubbornness. 

"Sg. Zabini organized a Seers club in Italy" she added, making her own subject change.

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Elliot shook Mr. Zabini's hand. He was admittedly the slightest bit embarrassed that he hadn't connected Divination interest to Seer — it explained a lot.

It occurred to him that it was unusual for three Seers to be in one place, but he did not feel anything out of place yet. Perhaps this was simply a coincidence, and not something preternatural.

"If I ever encounter a broken deck of tarot cards you'll be the first to know," Elliot allowed, smiling at Miss Reid. He turned to Mr. Zabini at the mention of a Seer club. "Now that is an interesting concept," Elliot said, "Was the Sight primarily discussed at the club, did you engage in divining practices, or — was it a gathering of similarly-affected individuals?"

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Savino laughed good-naturedly at Miss Reid’s protests, both at her sheepish tone and at the idea of broken tarot cards. He was a little – aware, too, of the easy tone of their banter; they obviously knew each other well. Obviously during Miss Reid’s school years, as she had said, but Savino was also now able to note that Mr. Carmichael was much younger (and wittier, and better-dressed) than he had imagined her ‘Professor Carmichael’ to be when she’d first mentioned him in Italy.

But Savino didn’t have much more opportunity to observe their dynamic before they were asking about his Seers club. That, he thought, made it sound a little pitifully juvenile; he shot Miss Reid a wry smile. “Well, we prefer to call it a society – a Society of Divination – and we always invited those who were interested in the practice of it, but... several of us were Seers. Sometimes different people have different insights –” not that there wasn’t a lot that still seemed eternally incomprehensible, even with more minds put together – “but I always feel better about the Sight after talking to other people about it.” There, yes, he mostly meant other Seers, because the Sight felt like a very different thing when you were isolated by it. It was no wonder some people thought it a curse.

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Meri couldn’t help but grin because honestly nothing would make her happier than to find out it actually was possible to have a broken tarot deck.  With a few more years under her belt she knew now that there had been absolutely nothing wrong with those particular cards but it would still make the memory of that day that much funnier to know it was possible. 

"Right, yes, a society."  she confirmed, looking only slightly apologetic about the slip up. "I dare say I was in the minority there, regarding my feelings on Divination.  But I agree - I've always felt drawn to other Seers -"  She couldn't help the quick glance to Mr. Carmichael, it was almost instinctive at this point.  Not only was he a Seer, he had been involved in several of her formative Seer experiences to some degree. "When I was younger I was so hungry to meet people like me… and there still is a kind of consolation knowing there really are people out there that understand… but the more that I meet the more I realize that each person's Sight can be quite different." 

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The corners of Elliot's mouth twitched up into an almost-smile when Miss Reid mentioned being drawn to other Seers. He felt the same way, obviously — but it was one thing to feel that way and another to have someone verbalize it, especially when it was someone who Elliot felt connected to for reasons that were nigh-impossible for him to articulate.

"My Sight is a puzzle I have been trying to solve for most of my life," Elliot admitted. This was something he usually refrained from saying out loud — as a professor he had tried to create the illusion for his non-Seeing students that he understood all, and as a private citizen he tried to avoid discussing such things with normal people.

"And I have to admit some jealousy that we've never had a Society here. I've found other Seers understand on a level that most people cannot — the Sight can bring grief and joy and as much mystery as not Seeing, and that can be — difficult to explain." He'd spoken more than he intended to, and Elliot's gaze flicked over towards Miss Reid again: was that all right? He did not want to daunt her Italian friend.

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   Temerita Reid

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Hungry: that was right. There had always been a kind of desperation in it, especially when one was young and had to try and explain it to the people around them – and even the most magical of families didn’t necessarily understand this kind of magic enough to be of comfort. So Savino supposed it was no wonder Miss Reid and her former professor still seemed so close.

“Yes,” Savino said in emphatic agreement, glad that Mr. Carmichael saw the merit of meeting other Seers – and glad that Miss Reid had not minded introducing them, even though Savino knew her general feelings on the matter of the Sight might not quite match his. “And there’s no one – textbook for understanding it, at least as far as I know,” he half-joked, smiling, because Mr. Carmichael was right: it was a puzzle, and a mystery, and there were always, always, more questions to be had. “But it has always seemed a waste to me not to try, at least, to explore it fully.” Interrogating the Sight, investigating new techniques, testing the limits of its capability – even when it did not result in the successes he perhaps wanted, it seemed better than just living his life, head down, attempting to ignore the visions when they encroached.

Maybe the marketplace wasn’t the best place to philosophise about this, or maybe it was (the ancient philosophers had usually picked precisely the same place for their discussions); but if Savino got any more overtly enthusiastic here, they might start getting odd looks.

“But what of your wand-making, Miss Reid?” he added instead, sure that it was what she had been in Italy for. “You are back now in Great Britain for good?”

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She couldn't help the soft smile that came when he spoke of his Sight.  She was hardly even aware of it. Had she ever heard him speak so frankly about it?  Sure they'd had their share of Divination encounters but they'd all felt so… clumsy and fumbling.  After years of feeling like she was the lost one, him admitting his own uncertainty was endearing, if she was being perfectly honest.

And if she stopped breathing briefly when he glanced at her like that… well hopefully no one was the wiser. 

"Wh- yes." she said suddenly as if pulled from thought.  "Yes, I think so.  It was a good opportunity to learn from another Wandmaster but I'm glad to be home.  I'm now pretty certain I'll be content to stay and learn from Mr. Ollivander for as long as he'll have me." 

Steering backwards in the conversation for a moment she added "I think a textbook was exactly what I wished for as a kid... or at least some kind of pamphlet rather than trying to figure things out as it came. My poor mother sent an owl to Hogwarts before my first year to make them aware." She ended with a grin, trying to imagine exactly how a letter like that must have been received.

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Elliot grinned, delighted to hear that Miss Reid would be staying for the foreseeable. They had not discussed her stint in Italy in their letters, but he'd missed seeing her at events, and there was an element of relief to knowing that she would be around. (He chose not to interrogate this relief at this time.)

"I'm sure that must have went over well," Elliot said, amused at the thought of Headmaster Black reading such a letter. (Or perhaps he would have simply sent it off to the Deputy Head; it would have depended on the man's mood.) "Something I've never entirely understood is how one decides on a wand core — is there an element of Sight to it —" his lips twitched up with amusement at the joke "— or just chance? And do the Italians take their wands as seriously as we do?"

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