October 10, 1892 - High Street

Some people would say Cliff had sticky fingers. He would say he had nimble fingers that were good for more than just thievery, although they itched and burned when there was something nearby he absolutely had to possess. He would call it his top Gryffindor trait - daring, because he had the unyielding desire to collect anything that caught his eye whether he was allowed to have it or not. Sometimes he had a plan, sometimes he didn’t, but he thought he was sly and compelling enough to distract people with his wit (which, most people would see was severely lacking) or with small talk about well… anything and everything. Talking in circles was one of his specialities. He wasn’t friendly, not really, and people tended to avoid making eye contact with him.

Most of the time it worked out for him. Now, booking it full speed down a side street on High Street was not one of those times.

It was hard to pinpoint exactly where Cliff had gone wrong, although if he was being completely honest, it hadn’t started out on the best foot, either. For one, he didn’t absolutely need the object, he just wanted it to have bragging rights that he possessed a poisonous candle, which was where he got sloppy. He wasn’t stealing because he needed it, nor was he stealing it because he and his siblings were starving… no. Cliff had sticky fingers simply because he had time and was bored. October was a slow month on the farm as the trees were starting to grow barren and whatever wood that needed to be cut already had been; plus if Imane made he taste test one more thing he might start to think she was just trying to fatten him up to eat him later. (Meena was on a Hansel and Gretel kick as her nightly bedtime story.)

What good was a poisonous candle? He certainly wasn’t going to burn it in his house and poison himself, and if Meena found it, why, she’d probably not only poison them, but somehow manage to burn the entire farm down! Then they’d lose their sole income despite how miniscule it was, and he wasn’t sure what he’d do. Prostitute him? Charm an old woman for her money? The options were endless but they all sucked. He could use it for Halloween, although how was yet to be determined; Algae and Imane would have to have some ideas, right?

The candle had just the setting that had made taking it irresistible - sitting proudly in a glass display that screamed you like a challenge, Clifford Hillicker! Try me! So he had. And succeeded… for a split moment.

To be fair, he had the candle safely tucked away in his robes, which clanked against his leg as he was chased down the alleyway; he took a glance over his shoulder as he breathed out, thankful that he was much faster than a middle-aged man who drank too much Butterbeer. Luckily for him the shop he’d come from was only a few steps from the main stretch of Hogsmeade, which was crowded for this time of day, probably because it was also the first weekend of the new school year for students to visit as well. He knew Heath was somewhere around with Meena, although he hoped they weren’t in the crowd or watching their big brother run for his life.

Most of the people didn’t bat an eye as he twisted and turned past them to quickly slip into the crowds. Dark hues scanned for an out (he never did officially take apparation test despite knowing how to, and refused to do it in a large crowd because he simply didn’t have the money to pay any sort of fine), before he spotted the familiar form of one miss Ida Chang coming out of a shop. His eyes flicked up but the name of it didn't register. It was an odd coincidence recognizing her face out of everyone else around him, but one he was willing to take – she would help him blend into the crowd whether she realized it or not. Cliff took a mad dash through the congestion, poking and elbowing a few who got in his way before he grabbed a hold of her sleeve to give it a small tug.

“Hi Ida.” He spoke quite cheerfully as he caught his breath, ducking behind her smaller form. “Don’t mind me - but if you see an old man looking around quite angry, demanding if you’ve seen anyone with a candle, it is just a candle if you were wondering, I was never here.” Cliff took a moment to peek around her, checking to see if the coast was clear. “Although I do think I lost him. How are you?”

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Ida Chang

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[Please feel free to hit Cliff at your leisure; he probably deserves it.]

Ida hated to be back in Hogsmeade - and hated that she hated it.

The town had so many happy memories for her: Hogsmeade weekends with the girls, teatimes, so many friends lived here, High Street had her favorite bookshop. But just across the street there sat the edge of Padmore Park, and even in the bright light of day – she couldn’t shake it. The visions of what happened that horrific night of Silas’ murder never faded out of her mind’s eye. So— she opted to stay as physically far from the park as possible. This limited her visits to Hogsmeade to the days she spent at Flint, or whenever it was absolutely necessary.

Today was the latter: Ida received notice from the associate at Dervish & Banges that her item’s repair was finished. The note came in late, when Ida was already on her way to the Flint Institute Floo. Expecting her prompt return to the Dashwood’s in London like usual, her chaperone at the institute already took her leave for the afternoon. Ida frowned at the slip of paper in her hands, making mental trade-offs between retrieving it now or later.

“Drat,” she cursed quietly. Generally she wouldn’t care much about this inane detail like having a chaperone - a young woman of the middle class hardly had many worries compared to the scrutiny leveled against most of her friends. Given recent events though, she was mortified to have attracted even the vaguest amount of interest from the ton. Speculation, maybe, over what this strange unknown girl could possibly offer – especially to have caught the slightest interest of the younger Prewett.

“This is stupid,” she announced to no one but herself in the now-empty classroom, and dropped her hands from her face. Why worry about this so much? It’s not as though she was up to anything actually risky, nor did she particularly care what any of these people thought (the elite – try as she might, welcoming as her friends were, she would never really be like them would she?).

Today would be a busy day at Hogsmeade – busy enough that she can slip in and out unnoticed, probably, and head straight home before getting uncomfortably close to the park. That’s all.


About an hour later, Ida turned out of Dervish & Bangs stuffing a small parcel into her satchel. She was quite pleased - and the repair was less costly than she imagined. And proudly, it was with her own money that she made this type of ‘big girl’ purchase – on the cheap she thinks, to have started with something others thought were broken beyond repair.

“Ah!” she started from her train of thought with a fright, and whirled around on her heels towards the assailant. Not an unknown one, because the second she heard his voice she knew exactly who was at fault. “Cliff, what the hell!” she nearly scolded. He scared the daylights out of her. But a harrowing look soon simmered into plain exasperation as he ducked behind her, like she was some kind of human shield. Her wand might be made out of the same wood possessed by martyrs, but she wasn’t about to fall on her sword for the likes of a dog.

Though, she did glance around for an angry old man.

Seeing none, “What kind of candle? What kind of criminal activity are you all wrapped in now?” The woman started to forge ahead onto the sidewalk of Main Street, guessing that he might fall in step rather than stay exposed hunkered down like a lunatic. She knew him to be a man perpetually on the run from police, after all, so he should be quick on his feet.

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Clifford Hillicker

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   Clifford Hillicker

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stefanie made this beautiful set <3

There was something almost… unladylike about Ida whenever she cursed, and he couldn’t help but quickly snicker into his sleeve as he dipped behind her; she reminded him of Meena. Or was it the other way around because Ida was technically older? Meena reminded him of Ida? He supposed it didn’t matter because they were both hellions in their own way and his sister was dying to meet the girl who had turned Cliff into a dog. (She wanted to see it for herself, more so because she wanted to see how magic looked when properly performed, as Clifford was terrible at it. He did try though.)

Despite her scolding she still looked around, and he let out a sigh of relief as the man seemed to have given up, for now at least, on finding the culprit. He yelped and moved to follow her as she moved, leaving him suddenly exposed for all of High Street to see; brown eyes shot around to make sure he really was in the clear before he straightened to his full height. He was a miniature whale compared to most people, and seeing as he had no clue who his father was, he always wondered if maybe he was part giant – he was dumb like one, too.

“It’s a poisonous candle.” He replied. “I don’t know what I’m going to use it for because I really don’t wanna poison myself or my kids, but you never know when it’ll come in handy.” Then his hand shot out to gentle grab Ida by the elbow, and he flashed her a shit-eating grin she should be used to by now. “Wanna see it?” He asked, and without waiting for an answer, tugged her toward one of the alleyways that seemed almost void of people. (It didn’t occur to Clifford, and would never occur to him that trying to get a woman alone would be bad for her, but he was just excited to show her the candle he’d successfully stolen.) He did at least stop abruptly after a couple steps, although his hand remained against her elbow without much thought.

“Or, even better yet Ida, you can help me decide what to do with it.” His nose wrinkled and he leaned closer to her, bringing his head down until he nearly rested against the top of her head.. “I thought about breaking into that hall of mirrors thing and burning it there for fun. It’s supposed to be haunted, and I’m pretty sure the toxic fumes would make you see funny things.” Clifford tossed his head back and laugh. “Just wanna help keep the rumors alive, yanno?”

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Ida Chang

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   Ida Chang

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[Please feel free to hit Cliff at your leisure; he probably deserves it.]

It wasn’t often that someone literally towered over Ida’s impressive height, so when Cliff finally bobbed up next to her like a buoy from underwater she gave a small start. Yes, she forgot how tall he was but Merlin, she was also so jumpy lately. (Like a scaredy cat, her mind supplied nastily. Nevermind that she had perfectly good excuses to be in this state.)

“Sure. A poison candle, how useful,” Ida said wryly. Now why would a person need such a thing? This seemed like a good Beryl or June question. “Where’d you–” Before she could finish steal this from, mostly to be antagonistic, she felt herself pulled off to one of the narrower side streets. The witch threw a self-conscious glance around them then, but didn’t budge. It’s not like she saw anyone that knew her, Ida rationalized. Besides, when else would she see a poison candle? This wasn’t the sort of thing she went out of her way to find, seeing as her magical sensibilities felt quite thrown off with most dark arts.

“Did it say anything about the type of poison or where it’s from?” Curiosity got the better of her tongue, and explained exactly why she stayed. But to make a point, the young woman folded her arms at his cackles of joy. Nudged off his hand at her elbow with a pointed ‘get offa me’ shrug, for good measure. Maybe he is an actual madman, and I’m just a sap, she reflected, eyeing him closely. Maybe so. But it seems to have helped that they’ve literally fought to the death before and called it sort-of-truce, because now she felt less threatened by him and more amused.

“I haven’t been following the rumors. What’s the hall of mirrors?” she asked loftily, strumming her fingers on the backs of her arms. Ida didn’t usually mind the Halloween haunts, until this year. Now this all sounded like the type of thing she actively avoided reading about, especially if it was here in Hogsmeade. “Anyway - before burning anything, let me see it. I’m not really interested in poisoning myself for giggles,” she pointed out, a momentary lapse in judgment completely glossing over the suggestion to break in somewhere. It’s not like that sort of thing was above her or anything… It just had to have a point.

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stefanie made this beautiful set <3

He hadn’t meant to scare Ida and when she startled just enough to be noticeable, he couldn’t help but frown. Sure they’d gotten off to a rocky start but she should know he wouldn’t actually (intentionally) hurt her; it was the opposite actually, as he wanted to protect the few friends he did have in his life. (And if he looked at her from the top of her head to the bottom of her dress he didn’t take notice, as he was just trying to surmise if he could shift from calling her a casual acquaintance to a friend.) Friends were messy and complicated, and those he used the term with were people he was completely sure wouldn’t leave him no matter what he did.

He wrinkled his nose at the obvious insult she was about to hurl, because yes, a poisonous candle had its uses for something, even if he didn’t know them yet. Wasn’t he the brawns and Ida the brains (they could equally share the beauty) of this weird friendship they’d stricken? In that moment Cliff decided Ida Chang was his friend, especially as she seemed to come along with him willingly toward an alleyway without question – he liked that she was inclined to go along with whatever weird plan he had, but it was only fair given he’d done the same thing to her.

“Don’t be stupid Ida, there’s not more than type of poison. Poison is bad no matter what kind it is.” Cliff frowned as she shrugged him off, but he allowed his hands to fall back to his side. “And it’s from Tallow and Hemp Toxic Tapers in Knockturn. That place specializes in making 'em.” Not that he expected her to know that because she looked much to rigid to ever walk into Knockturn with her head held high; hell, even Cliff got an unnerving feeling there, but he was tall and mean looking, so people tended to get out of his way whenever he managed to go there. It was a place he’d have to avoid the next few weeks until that old man forgot his face.

While he knew Ida could probably hold her own, as he’d seen the kind of magic she was capable of, Knockturn could be overwhelming if someone wasn’t familiar with it. Cliff bopped her on the nose with the tip of his finger as he frowned. “But don’t ever go without me, okay?” People would leave her alone if they saw them together, wouldn’t they? He had quite the reputation for theft and constantly being wanted (or arrested) by constables, and being seen with him would offer some form of protection. Or, well... he hoped, at least.

His eyebrows rose at her question before his frown quickly flipped into a smile, although once he saw her position, Cliff reached forward to gently rest his hand against her shoulder. “Hey, are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you.” Giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, he stepped back to give her some space. “I’m sure it's harmless. It’s just a maze that has mirrors for walls, and I’ve heard that some of ‘em are haunted and make you see some crazy things.” But, at the insistence of her wanting to see the candle, Cliff spun around so his back was to her – last time he’d gotten naked in front of her she’d freaked out – and opened his robe before digging around in the one the enchanted pockets to ensure wouldn’t break and pulling it free. Then he readjusted his clothing and spun back around to her.

It was a short and stout black candle carved with symbols Cliff didn’t recognize; green wax dripped from the top down the sides, soaking into the symbols to make them shimmer in the light as he held it out to her “It was in a glass display, so I think it’s… extra poison-y.” He laughed quietly. “But if it was deadly poison, I think it would have been locked up and not just sitting there begging to be touched.” (Then he blinked as he realized he’d contradicted himself earlier that there’s not more than one type of poison - deadly and not deadly were two different categories. Huh. Who would have known?)

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[Please feel free to hit Cliff at your leisure; he probably deserves it.]

“Hah!” Ida nearly lost her eyes with the roll heaved over his remark about types of poison. But since he was sharing more details, she bit back the number of choice words on the tip of her tongue. It’s not at all surprising to hear he picked up this sort of thing and Knockturn Alley. She’d only ever been there once herself, in the company of a friend who knew exactly where to go. But Ida was a bit distracted fearing for her life, or worse, getting caught, to notice any type of Toxics store.

“Ohh-kay,” she intoned slowly, returning the man’s frown as she felt his cold fingertip on her nose. It’s the sort of thing she’d do to her little brother when he was being stubborn about something silly, an idea that instantly made her embarrassed. “I was not planning to. Why were you there?” Defensiveness made the question come out sounding more sly than she meant. Though to be fair, she didn’t really know what kind of ‘criminal’ he was. Maybe she was being too naive, but he struck her as someone who does things out of opportunity rather than malice.

It had to be that way. Because why else would she not worry one bit when his hand found her shoulder? Tension ebbed from the spot he held even, just a little. Ida hadn’t expected him to even perceive how she felt, much less care – so the comment stumped her for a moment. As he turned around on her to – uh, do something, Ida learned that it’s not always worth asking Cliff questions –  the young woman shook out her arms like it could help shake off the surprise. So maybe he’s grown on her a bit. That’s the sort of question a friend asks.

“I’m fine,” she grumbled after a moment. “Just been a bit on edge, I guess, with all these terrible things happening in Hogsmeade.” Shaking herself off a second time, Ida’s hands finally dropped when he produced the candle.

“Ohhh,” the reaction slipped her lips without much thought, because it was very pretty. Ida leaned closer to inspect it as he twisted it around, explaining where he found it. “Extra poison-y or maybe just extra valuable,” she agreed, taking a step closer so they were nearly shoulder to shoulder again to inspect some of the symbols.

“These are ancient runes,” she said, her hand twisting his back so she could indicate where one of the lines of runes started. This had been one of her ‘fun hobby’ classes she took in school. “That’s what puts the charm- er, or curse probably - in the candle. Along with the properties in the wax as its made. See this?” Ida withdrew her wand with the hand not covering Cliff's, and pointed it at the green wax that dripped from the top. “Different properties when you first burn it compared to when it burns lower. Maybe the top portion does the ‘set-up’, then the bottom portion delivers a finishing blow.”

The foreign dark object certainly did the job of cheering Ida up despite its morbidity, her face lit up with interest. The witch took a moment to silently mouth what she thought the runes might say. It would take transcribing the entire first line before she could really understand all it said.

“This candle is powerful, it can incapacitate a victim for at least a day,” she finally said. “My guess is the top portion makes people feel confused, or drunk or something. So they don’t think to extinguish the candle. As it burns, it makes them slowly lose their mind. Good thing you don’t have one,” she added teasingly, just to see if he was still paying attention.

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stefanie made this beautiful set <3

Clifford blinked at her, more in surprise that she wanted to know things about him rather than just assuming. Sure he had sticky fingers, but it wasn’t as if he woke up in the morning and decided today was going to be an entire day of thieving as he ate soggy cereal at the table. “Meena found a Streeler this morning, and damn are those things annoying, always killing things on the farm. Anyhow, I needed some items to take care of it.” He cleared his throat as he realized that lying would have been much easier. “Actually take care of it. Meena wants to keep it as a damn pet but she needs some special gloves to play with it.” They were expensive gloves and the price had made him wince, so he hadn’t bought them yet, unsure what he could give in exchange for them. Cliff had laughed when she’d brought it up, but she’d pouted and Cliff decided it was cheaper than the dog she kept begging for.

He continued on. “I decided that while I was here I might as well look around, and the candle called to me. I had to have it so now I do!” He grinned at her and shrugged; it was hard to explain why he did certain things. He’d seen her property and highly doubted she could sympathize with growing up in the bottom rung of the working class. Sometimes it was either steal and eat, or abide by the law and starve. He always chose the former.

He hummed in response to her being fine because he felt that was a damn lie, but it wasn't his place to tell her that. The things happening in Hogsmeade had been terrible but Cliff felt the tragedy wouldn’t strike him. It couldn’t – not when he had Meena and Heath to take care of. So instead he meandered around like nothing he changed and hoped that nothing would change. (The thought of asking Ida if the offer of making sure Meena and Heath were still taken care of crossed his mind, but that meant he was worried, so the thought went right out the other ear.)

A laugh slipped past his lips as Ida saddled up next to him, and it took everything in him not to knock his shoulder against hers; only Imane and Algae ever stood this close to him (both of which he hadn’t seen in what felt like ages when it had probably been a few days at most – Algae practically lived on the farm when he wasn’t busy with Quidditch practice), and sometimes it was nice to be touched, even accidentally. “Well, if it’s valuable maybe I should sell it and not burn it.” He stated with a shrug, although his entire body stiffened as her hand touched his own. His breath caught in his throat because when was the last time someone voluntarily touched him? Meena didn’t count, and even then all she did was hug him on a rare occasion.

Cliff didn’t trust himself to speak, so instead he nodded as she pointed out all the ancient ruins; sure, he’d taken the class but it hadn’t meant he’d understood anything about it. “You’re really smart, aren’t you?” He breathed out as his hand flexed underneath hers, and he couldn't help but stare at them; he didn’t dare take a peek at Ida, who was much more interested in the candle than he would have thought. He wondered if it had called to her and was delivered through him. A ridiculous thought, but he’d heard of cursed objects doing worse.

“Okayyy… but does this mean we’re going to break in and burn it, or are you just going to ogle it all day? I think I’ll be fine, mindless and all, but you might go a little coocoo because of that big ol’ brain of yours.” Cliff’s grin widened as he used his free hand to gently knock against the top of her head. “Though I don’t know Ida, it sounds a bit hollow inside, so I think you’ll be fine too.” He teased, knowing damn well she probably had two brains inside her head.

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[Please feel free to hit Cliff at your leisure; he probably deserves it.]

It was hard for Ida to resist her smirk as Cliff went on and on explaining what he was doing in Knockturn Alley, almost as if her question made him nervous. A noticeable contrast from the intruder on her property who scarcely wanted to tell her his name. The explanation felt unmistakably genuine, too – the kind of thing that’s almost too dumb to make up. Maybe one day she’ll get to meet this Meena girl, who sounded like a spitfire. (An idea that came to Ida completely divorced from the reality of what that would entail - like a planned outing, or a visit to Cliff’s home one day.)

“If you couldn’t find the gloves I might have some spare anti-venom ones back home that might fit her,” Ida offered with a shrug back. An open invitation for him to let her know – although, she supposed now there was the small detail that she didn’t really live there anymore. The detail felt like a weird thing to volunteer to him, though. Why would it matter to Cliff anyway, where she lived? Probably a better thing that the criminal couldn’t track her down properly, right?

“Well…,” she hummed distractedly, eyes still tracing each unique ruin. Were there different ruins on the top versus the bottom? This was really quite sophisticated. “If you can find a buyer who isn’t the man you stole it from, it could be valuable enough to try and sell…” It didn’t make a lick of a difference to Ida, really, who the rightful owner of this was. Dark objects beget dark behavior in the first place. Besides this, she didn’t think it was much of a stretch to assume Cliff could put the money to better use than an ornery shopkeeper of toxins. With a small frown, it occurred to Ida that Cliff really had a habit of making some of the worst enemies. Between the constables and now this poison expert, Cliff might want to consider laying low or wearing some big spooky cloak or something. He stuck out like a sore thumb.

Though before Ida could voice her concern, she caught his offhand comment. Question? No, it seemed like a compliment, actually. Ida shot him a quick look as though to reassure herself it was still the same person, but he wasn’t looking at her. It was for the better then, since her cheeks definitely turned a twinge red, and she could do without him teasing her for it.

As quickly as the quiet moment sprang up between them, however, Cliff went on and snapped it in half. Before she knew it he was grinning like an idiot again, and knocking on her head and making her eyes roll again.

“Pfft,” the woman finally dropped her hand and stepped to dodge more of his knocking. “Don’t worry, fortunately I have enough brains for the both of us,” she tried to stuff her residual embarrassment behind an indifferent sniff that wrinkled the bridge of her nose. “And I wasn’t ogling, mind you, I was appraising the value of your dark object.” A very important distinction. Expression turned thoughtful then, as she gave slightly more serious thought to his question.

“I’m still not sure if it’s a good idea to burn it… What if the flame hypnotizes you? You might singe your eyebrows off,” She offered the advice as sagely as she might talk to her little brother about cauldron fire safety, but a laugh snuck up on her and broke her seriousness. Ah, stupid hall of mirrors… She’s been to dozens of these types of mazes before. The only way to get over something, sometimes, might be to go through it.

“I suppose you can take care of breaking in, then. And as usual, I’ll take care of breaking out.”

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stefanie made this beautiful set <3

He couldn’t help but scoff at the ridiculous notion that he needed anything from Ida Chang. Nowhere in that statement did he say he couldn’t find them, and if he was hell bent on having them, he’d spend the night (or even a few) from stealing them before he took them off her hands. He was not a charity case – even if his friends had never once said he was, it was just always that certain look they got in their eyes or the way their lips would tilt downward into a frown when they saw Cliff struggling – and would refuse help from anyone and everyone. He had no intention of asking her for them, so he pursed his lips together and grunted at her. “Yeah, sure.” This was why he didn’t like to talk; people always assumed he needed something when he opened his mouth, when the only thing Cliff needed was for people to leave him alone.

Instead he focused his eyes back on the runes carved into the candle. “Even I’m not dumb enough to cross a Knockturn shopkeeper like that.” He finally murmured as he raised his eyes to look at her. “So, I guess that means we’re burning it, hm? Just so you can appraise if it’s valuable, of course.” There was no doubt it meant they were burning it, or at least he was, and if Ida decided she wanted to have a little fun he wouldn’t be opposed. She rolled her eyes and he laughed, almost jovially, at her; she did have enough brains for both of them and he wondered if maybe he would have done better at Hogwarts if he’d had someone as smart as Ida helping him. How old was she anyway? They might have overlapped, now that he was thinking of it.

Blinking at her, his grin widened as she laughed, breaking her seriousness about what the candle might do to him. “Ida, Ida, Ida. Are you going to live your life so uptight that you abide by every rule imaginable? Or are you going to live a little?” He quipped an eyebrow at her. Maybe it was because Cliff hadn’t had much parenting in his life, or maybe it was because he was working class, but he cared very little for what was considered proper. He knew though, that he had it a little easier because he was a male and Ida had her reputation to protect. But in the end, if she was living life and happy, who bloody cared if what she did was proper or not? “Remember what I said? I protect what’s mine, and you… I think? Loosely, are my friend.” He added, just in case she was worried about the candle actually hurting her. (The thought of classifying Ida as a friend was odd too and the word felt heavy on his tongue. He hadn’t called someone his friend outside of Algae and Imane in years.)

His face lit up at her next statement, though. “That’s my girl!” Cliff laughed as he pushed the candle into her hands before he swung an arm around her shoulder, pulling her tight against his side. Then he was swinging them around to face the way they’d come from. “You’re about to witness real magic Ida.” Using his free hand, Cliff swept his arm across in front of them. “And don’t worry. If your plan to get us out fails, I’m never one to enter without a plan to escape.” Even if she’d already witnessed his terrible escape plan the day they’d met – it might kill him (or really now, them) in the end, but it was at least a plan. That counted for something, didn’t it?

“You’re in charge of that now.” He hummed about the candle as directed her toward the front of the alleyway, his arm dropping from her shoulder to the small of her back. “The tent is somewhere outside of Padmore Park. Wanna walk, or I can apparate us.” Because that he could do in an alleyway where people couldn’t see them.

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[Please feel free to hit Cliff at your leisure; he probably deserves it.]

If Cliff was dissatisfied with her careless offer for spare gloves, Ida didn’t notice it one bit. Probably for the better, too; odds were high that the more he resisted, the more innovative her tactics to sneak it onto his person anyhow. He wouldn’t know what hit him until he was back home taking off his jacket and dozens of goodies spilled out to the ground, and Meena would see it, and then there were no take-backs. A lot like how Ida hoped the discovery transpired with the things she sent along with him at their last meeting. It was less a charity case, in her mind, but a matter of practicality. He needs something she doesn’t – he should take it.

“I guess we’re burning it,” Ida sighed, resigned awful like a reluctant parent who agrees to go on a pony ride their kid’s been whining endlessly about. Her agreement seemed to make Cliff laugh, at least, and his laughter cheered her up somewhat because it sounded like a mad hyena (not that she heard what hyenas laughed like – but she’d bet her dowry it sounded like Cliff). And his sentiment about her rule breaking, however, her face flushed brilliantly.

“I live just fine,” she grumbled defensively, glancing quickly away as he raised his eyebrow inquiringly. It seemed rude to point out that frankly even just talking to him probably broke dozens of rules. Harder still to point out that she happily went along with any of her friend’s antics – because it all gave her the same fuzzy excitement that their plan back home gave, and that this silly business with the candle and the mirrors potentially broached now.

Though before she could articulate as much, Cliff reminded her of something they talked about last time. Protecting what’s his.  The witch really, highly doubted that he meant it in the way it came out sounding, and for her own sake latched on to his qualifier of friend (much more palatable). He wasn’t wrong, anyway. Friends help each other out (even if the ‘help’ he gave her was entirely based on his agreeableness as a subject of dangerous experiments). Still, Ida looked a touch sheepish as she glanced away from him, deliberating over what he said for a touch too long.

“Yeah. Loosely friends,” she agreed. Feeling bad as she said it, like she was being dishonest. Because the thing is, at her age there was no such thing as a male ‘friend’. Even though she appreciated having many of them, it seems. A bad habit. Another rule she’s breaking. Following her curiosity will get her into some serious trouble one day, Ida knew.

But for now, Cliff seemed determined to lead them on to their next adventure. A disbelieving huff of laughter at the proclamation “that’s my girl!” premeditated the candle thrust into her grasp, and from that moment on, Ida was really just along for the ride.

“Oh no,” she intoned dryly at the thought of Cliff’s real magic, throwing him a rueful look as his hand gestured to the metaphorical wide expanse of possibility. “I can’t say that inspires a lot of confidence, Cliff, based on your exit strategy back in Irvingly,” she couldn’t resist inserting the snide remark, because she’s heard what his ‘plans’ can be like. Still, she allowed herself to be shepherded by him back out onto Main Street, deciding that if any constable found them she’d simply have to claim that he kidnapped her. “But okay. Dazzle me with your real magic,” she went on, playing off with laughter the uptick of nerves that tensed up her body.

It had less to do with Cliff – if anything, his company was a small comfort. Everything to do with where they were headed – their feet traversing the exact same path she took weeks ago with her cousin, straight into Padmore Park. Ida swallowed thickly, doing her best to conceal her nerves (and failing, really; she looked a bit pale compared to the blush she had earlier, and her lips twisted into a slight frown at his question).

“Ummm, walk,” she decided, wanting at least to spare a few more minutes before she had to confront her fear. She’d gone months without stepping into Padmore Park, and now that the opportunity presented itself she wasn’t about to lose her nerve. In front of Cliff the dog, no less. Still, she needed a minute. Just a minute. To work up the courage again.

The woman’s feet dwindled to a stop, shrugging off the hand she felt at the small of her back. Fussing, for maybe a smidge too long, with the candle in hand and the satchel she shook free with the other, giving the dark object a safe place to reside until they had use for it later. After a prolonged moment and nothing more left to do, Ida snapped the satchel shut and glanced up to Cliff with a barely-concealed grimace. “Alright,” she said, trying to sound aloof. “Lead the way.”

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stefanie made this beautiful set <3

He rolled his eyes, albeit fondly, at her instance that she lived just fine. Cliff knew that was under the umbrella of society and its constant demands, and she wouldn’t know what living was truly like until she threw caution into the wind. Although it was fair to point out that Ida may spend a few nights in jail just as he’d done more than a few times in his life, but hey, at least he felt he was living a good life. He always had high hopes that his demon-spawn of a sister would be like Ida in the regard of wanting to not rebel against society, but then again it wasn’t as if Meena was ever going to amount to much, no matter how much Cliff attempted to pave the way in gold. People like them just didn’t escape the clutches of poverty.

He squinted at her as she seemed to look remorseful after him calling her a friend. Fine. They didn’t have to be friends of any kind. They were loosely friends, acquaintances more like it, and Cliff was happy to put her on the same shelf as Daffy – not quite friends but people he wouldn’t duck into an alleyway to avoid. The Potts girl was always showing up at his farm now for something or another, and he hated the idea of growing fond of her and looking forward to seeing her; what if he had the same thoughts for Ida? Clifford didn’t want to become attached to loose friends who were just going to abandon him in the long run.

As they entered High Street, he didn't touch her because he knew what people would think, someone like him touching someone like her. He put his hands behind his head and grinned at her, walking backward as he kept his eyes on Ida, ignoring all the scoffs from people he bumped into. “Well, Irvingly was desperate, and my demon-spawn of a child was thrilled for the dresses –” He couldn’t help but spit the words out like they were poison. That was the closest she was going to get to a thank you. “Because now she looks like a real girl.” He rolled his eyes before he knocked a fist gently against his skull before replacing it behind his head. “This I’ve had time to think about.” Well, think about was a loose term because the only thinking he’d done hadn’t gone beyond wanting to burn the candle inside the tent.

Cliff wasn’t one to really think things through; what was the point when plans always went to shit and he had to think on the fly anyway? He was street smart and a criminal that hadn’t been sent to Azkaban, so surely he was good at evasion and exit plans, right? They were going to find out either way. Nodding at her wanting to walk, he couldn’t help the frown that etched onto his face as he watched her own expression fall. His feet came to a sudden halt. “Hey, I promise nothing bad will happen to you, okay? I can take on anything that comes through a damn mirror, so trust me for once.”

Spinning around then to walk beside her rather in front of her, Cliff made sure to stay one step ahead of her (to protect what was his, of course.) Clifford then grasped her elbow very gently and tugged her toward a tree to hide behind (because that was a fantastic hiding spot), as he pointed ahead of them. A giant white tent had been pitched, the sides of it seeming to be tucked inside the ground itself to prevent anything from going in - or out; it stood inconspicuously, as if it had always belonged there. “There, see it?” He hummed. “We’re not going through the front door, we’re going through the side. Last chance to back out, Ida.” Brown eyes raised toward her and arched an eyebrow at her; he wouldn’t blame her if she decided against it, but it just meant she was a boring rule follower.

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[Please feel free to hit Cliff at your leisure; he probably deserves it.]

There was at least one thing Ida appreciated about her new loosely-friend, and that was his… consistency. Consistent insanity, yes, but also consistent authenticity. You always know where you stand with Cliff, anyway, and right now he stood in front of her parting the crowd like he was Moses at the Red Sea. Ida recognized his statement for what it was, though, and her lips twitched into a small smile. Namely because girls deserve to have dresses, if they want one. And demon spawn sounded like a very apt description to anyone related to Cliff.

And for someone as vapid as he definitely was, this criminal seemed oddly perceptive. She did not expect him to stop, either, so she very nearly ran straight into him. It caused a bit of a kerfuffle with the lady that had been right behind her, and she huffed to move around the pair with a glowering look. To which Ida made no attempt to prevent her nose from wrinkling back at her with obvious disdain. Glancing back to Cliff with a sheepish look, “Okay,” she volunteered hastily. Fortunately, Ida did not think she had to rely on trusting him. But it felt too complicated to explain… it’s not that she’s afraid of a stupid mirror house, exactly. “It’s not about the mirror maze. Just that they haven’t figured out what has been causing all these sudden deaths in Hogsmeade. There’s no real pattern to who it happens to…”  And if there was one, she wouldn’t have read into it enough anyway. Witnessing a murder frightened her more than anything else in her life. It all… made her think about her mum, too. The gut-twisting wandering thought that perhaps, she had been as responsible for her own demise as Silas Hunt was. Somehow, a thought that was far more terrifying.

They stuck the course to Padmore Park, however, and soon enough they were upon it. Mirroring Cliff’s duck behind the tree (and immediately feeling stupid for doing so), Ida craned her head to look at the tent he pointed to. From what she could see, there was definitely no side door.

“Um, have you scoped the place out before?” she asked, objectively impressed if he’d somehow managed to premeditate literally anything. “Saw a secret passageway?” When she turned to see his expression, Double-Dog Dare written all over it, Ida openly scoffed. She could give fuck-all about being boring, but once she committed to following through on something, she committed. “Well I’m already here, aren’t I?”

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stefanie made this beautiful set <3

His hands instantly reached out to steady Ida as she almost ran into him, although he found his eyes following the lady who just had her entire day ruined because he’d stopped to talk to his…loose friend. She glared at him and he returned the look. Cliff’s eyes snapped back to her as she spoke, and his mouth formed into an ‘o’. It wasn’t often he was at a loss for words (there was always something smart coming out of his mouth, even if it showed he didn’t have too much of a brain), but here he was, unsure of what to say. He’d thought a lot about the murders and would it would mean if it was him laying on the ground dying, but he had a lot at stake. No one else in their right minds would care for his siblings. Meena would die in an orphanage, and he couldn't ask Heath to take on the burden of caring for siblings.

Cliff cleared his throat and settled his hands onto her shoulder. (He was certainly in a tactile mood today, and oh boy was Algae going to be thrilled if he actually returned his hug tonight.) “Yeah, well. That’s all the more reason to come with me. You can’t hide from everything because you’re scared. Do you want to look back on your life a hundred years from now and regret that you didn’t get to burn a super awesome toxic candle because you were afraid?” He arched an eyebrow at her; while he didn't know Ida very well, he supposed he knew her well enough that she wasn't one to hide away. She'd been the one to have a gun in the first place! Besides, he’d probably hunt down her killer and get revenge, as long as she wasn’t some ghost roaming around with unfinished business – he didn’t like ghosts all that much.

His hands dropped away from her as they moved toward Padmore Park, more precisely, behind the tree that most certainly wasn’t large enough to hide both of them. “Scoped out?” A light laugh bubbled out of his throat as he peeked around the tree to stare at the tent. For Hogsmeade Weekend there wasn’t too much activity, but he hoped that meant people were inside. (There wasn't an ounce of guilt in him for potentially making little kids woozy – hell, it’d be even more funny if his own brother was somewhere inside.) “No. But here’s your first lesson if you ever plan on going down the less-than-legal path: if you’re doing something that’s frowned upon, you don’t go through the front door.” Cliff tossed her a look over his shoulder to convey that any idiot would know that. Now he was worried that he’d made Ida the brains of the operation.

“Now c’mon.” Cliff nodded his head toward the tent before he stood to his full height, making his way toward the front of it; he fumbled for his wand as he went, clutching it lightly between his fingers. As he neared the front, where a single man who looked like he would rather be anywhere else manned the door, the brunette lifted his wand and muttered “Confundo.” The worker didn’t move at all, and Cliff frowned as he shook his wand in his hand; it was a very flexible wood and flopped back and forth. He wasn’t good at magic, that much could be said, but he’d cast the spell a thousand times over – it was probably the only spell he remembered from his Hogwarts days.

He tried again, and the wand sputtered out flakes of gold, which was something that the confusion spell shouldn’t do; it had no sight and no sound. Cliff couldn’t help but glower at the piece of wood before he took a glance at Ida. “Know the confusion spell? ‘Cause he needs to be hit with it if this is gonna work.”

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[Please feel free to hit Cliff at your leisure; he probably deserves it.]

Ida didn’t need his help getting steady, thank you very much. Although when his hands took her shoulders, and surprise registered on his face,  she felt… no compelling reason to move. Instead a little surprised at his surprise, and lack of his inevitable snide response. Instead he seemed a little… bothered by what she mentioned. She could see as the thought about the murders slowly filtered from the sound in his ears all the way into his brain.

My how things have changed from their very first encounter, when she threatened to shoot his bollocks off.

Though Ida kept her frown as he talked about being scared, her tense shoulders eased a fraction under his grip. His sentiment was utter nonsense? But it was an endearing thought, and almost as passably-charming as the apparent concern he laced it with. The former Ravenclaw had very little evidence to inspire confidence in what he could possibly do, if it ever came to something so serious. Save for, maybe, throwing himself in front of her. But why in Merlin’s name would he do something like that? They were loose-friends, surely, but also still basically acquaintances, and Ida knew very well how protective he was over his kids. The same way Ida was over Tao (though Tao was bright and resourceful enough to go on if it came to it, and at least he had Long…). Tucking away the morbid thoughts, Ida resolved that nothing could happen to them. It was in neither of their natures to go down without a raging hellfight.

But, it would help if Cliff was maybe a little less... Well. Just a little less. He was laughing again, now at the perfectly rational thought of reconnoitering a prospective break-in. It was enough to draw another eye roll from Ida, but a tiny smirk betrayed that she wasn’t much surprised. She supposed that he had a point, and its not like the basic tenets of criminal activity ever really crossed her desk in years of rigorous academic study.

“You forget that you have a pretty, intelligent lady of good social standing by your side,” she pointed out teasingly. “Haven’t you ever heard of the trojan horse story?” Admittedly, when it came to ladylike wiles Ida had a tendency to depend more on her friends to accomplish the job. It was not something that came very naturally to her, but silly Cliff-dog didn’t need to know that. The man seemed to have a different sort of plan anyway, and startled when he drifted off with minimal warning. With a nervous glance around first – the area was rather sparse and those around seemed occupied – Ida hastened behind him. 

Hovering somewhere behind his left shoulder, the former Ravenclaw got a good look at the brillance that was this alleged natural-born criminal. And she did not try to hide her grin over it, though she felt very gracious over not laughing out loud. They were trying to be bloody fucking covert, and all that.

Though they were doing a shit job of it, it seemed. When Cliff leaned back to mutter his request into Ida’s ear, the man at the front finally rounded to notice them.

“Oy, have your tickets?” he called out curiously to them, eyeing Ida first with a pleasant enough smile but Cliff with… uh, not-really-one. “This man bothering you, miss?” he inquired thoughtfully, to which Ida bashfully bowed her head. Ha. What an oddly strange and difficult to answer question.

“Oh! No, he’s– er, I have our tickets right here,” Ida bumbled through her not-explanation for whatever Cliff was, throwing the man what she could only hope was a demure girly smile as she fumbled with her purse to retrieve some… tickets. Honestly, she could have probably bought them like normal people? Though she was rather short on change today, and on a very fixed budget as it was, so the thrill here was… compelling enough.

Discreetly Ida slipped out her wand, and before the man could so much as blink she proffered a careless swish at him. “Confundo,” she intoned quietly, emphasis on the second syllable to make it sound like f-oooo-un. One fix at a time – Cliff’s ridiculous little wand spaz wouldn’t have amounted to so much as a blip if he said it properly, which was surprising because with such strong arms she expected him to have better hand eye coordination–

Shaking the ridiculous thought, Ida spared the ticket man a quick assessment. His eyes were satisfyingly crossed and mouth fell open, tongue lolled out. Ida turned her gaze meaningfully over to Cliff,“Think it worked?” she asked in a faux-lilt of naiveté. Then she took Cliff by the hand herself, dragging him behind her as a makeshift buoy of reassurance for their venture into the mirror maze.

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stefanie made this beautiful set <3

Cliff couldn’t help but playfully roll his eyes at her. She was pretty, he guessed, a hell of a lot more intelligent than anyone he’d ever met in his life, and her social standing was… questionable. At least whenever he was involved – it wasn’t like he stalked Ida to see what she did during her free time. (Although it was interesting to note that both times he’d managed to find her she hadn’t had a chaperone with her, which led him to believe that she was either trusted enough by her family to not do anything daft, although at this point that was laughable, or she evaded them.) “Well duh, I don’t live under a rock, Ida.” He said, although what in the hell the trojan horse had to do with them was beyond him – he’d just told her that they weren’t going through the front door.

Cliff froze as the man finally rounded toward them, and his eyes narrowed as the man assumed he was suspicious. He was, of course, but not because he was harassing a (maybe) good social standing lady; he was an equal opportunist when he stole things, but he wasn’t that much of an asshole to harass a lady. They traveled in packs and were much more likely to scream if he got too close. (The idea that harassing a woman for anything else was above Clifford, but then again he’d never even considered kissing one. Gross. People could leave him alone in that aspect and he’d be just fine.) In fact, as he outwardly scoffed at the accusation, he opened to say as such, Ida hit the man with the spell, and he blinked before he turned to her.

Then a wide stole across his face.

It wasn’t exactly the plan Cliff was going to do (she was breaking the cardinal rule of going through the front door), but in the end it worked; he had planned on hitting the man with the confusion spell and then cutting a hole in the side of the tent, but this seemed a bit less…messy. Still, Cliff tossed a look over his shoulder to make sure the man was still standing there, dumbfounded. His own fingers tightened against Ida’s, it fit quite nicely in his own, as he followed her without a second thought.

“Of course it worked.” Cliff agreed with her. “Because I have a very pretty, intelligent lady who will only be of okay social standing if she stays here by my side.” Shrugging then, he pulled her down one of the closest hallways, his feet coming to an abrupt stop once more as he stared at them in the mirror; they were tall in these mirrors, and he couldn’t help but grin at his own reflection between he was already a mini giant to begin with. Ida was taller than some of the girls he’d met, but she was still human sized. It was weird seeing himself holding Ida’s hand at every turn he looked, but he supposed that was the point of the mirror maze. He spun around in a very slow circle.

Then Cliff picked a random direction and used his free hand to make sure it was an entrance and not another mirror, although he’d been mistaken as his fingers pressed against glass. He smeared his fingerprints across it as he turned toward her. “Alright, so find a cluster of people and then light that baby up. Think you can find our way out of here again?” He was reluctant to let her go, lest one of them got lost. “And remember, the mirrors might not be what we think they are, so if one of us runs, the other follows, no questions asked. Capeesh?”

It wasn’t often he had someone with him when he was going to have fun. Maybe he’d enjoy it.

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[Please feel free to hit Cliff at your leisure; he probably deserves it.]

For a single flashing second, when Cliff turned to blink at her and didn’t say anything, Ida almost worried. Had she done the wrong thing afterall? Broke his plan of going through the front door and made him cross? It was as soon as that thought crossed that Ida mentally stomped her foot, nearly outraged at the thought that she gave a flying fig about what bothered Cliff.

But he was grinning at her, the same conspiring devilish look June threw her sometimes – and as quickly as the swirling thoughts clouded her head, they dispatched.  Ida’s smile flashed a touch embarrassed, pleased that he had so much faith in her spellwork (as he should, having experienced it firsthand). Though now also a bit unsure of what to do with that statement she made, parroted back to her. Obviously he meant nothing by it. But Merlin did it feel bizzarely different when he said it.

Though Ida’d been taking the lead their hands were still thoughtlessly linked, and at a fork in the passageway he dragged her to the left. With an audible sigh she went along with him, even when that meant going in a mindless meandering circle in a particularly narrow hall. They’d stopped shoulder to shoulder finally, Ida bumping her shoulder against Cliff’s (and not even saying sorry) as they paused to inspect their reflections. This one stretched them up taller and more spindly than usual; Ida flexed the fingers on her free hand to see her reflection hold up comically long skeleton fingers. Their hands holding looked entirely disproportionate and — ack, why are they still holding hands?!

Rather caught off guard by the discovery, Ida was still looking at their joined hands when he chirruped with his next phase of his grand scheme. Eventually brown eyes slid up to look at him, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, we took a left then right. I can keep track.” Because there was no way in hell she would leave escape plans to Cliff, no matter what he said.

Though the suggestion that the mirrors might not be what they think hadn’t entirely occurred to Ida, and it made her heartrate kick up a notch. Nervously she tugged her hand away from Cliff’s, at least with the pretense to slip her wand out from her sleeve. No fucking way in hell would she proceed in this maze without it up and at the ready to fire. “...Capeesh?” As much an affirmation of his commands as it was a question, because what the hell did he mean? But alright – they had a plan. Find a gaggle of people to ambush. Ugh– why were they doing this again?

“This place is fucking creepy,” Ida finally grumbled under her breath, keeping more-than-normal close to Cliff as they navigated the free space he found. They skipped one open path – then left again. The space looked much bigger inside than it was from out, which, well. Makes sense. They’d just paused to observe another strange reflection of themselves — these two were 100-year-old versions of themselves, Cliff looked funny with all that white hair coming out of his ears – when Ida’s head turned towards the source of sound.

“Oooh my god Bonnie you look terrible!” came the squeal of a girl off to their right, still unseen. Not just any girl, either – she sounded an awful lot like the friend of that extremely obnoxious Hufflepuff, the pair that always gave Ida nasty looks for all the time she spent with Professor Foxwood as a research assistant. Now as rabid debutantes, they gave Ida all sorts of sideye for simply existing at events ‘above her reach,’ as they implied.

Ida gave a meaningful tug of Cliff’s sleeve and tipped her head in that direction. “Let’s get these rich bitches,” she mouthed, free hand already going into her satchel for the candle.

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   Gus Lissington

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stefanie made this beautiful set <3