November 16th, 1894 - Entrance to Padmore Park

Rhys, having every motivation to get home early, thought he ought to get there sooner rather than later. It was funny how he had always been the one to stay late, to handle whatever it was that came near the end of a shift, but now he was more than happy to delegate, to let the constables handle things without him. It was probably better for all of them, giving over some of the reins. He was less stressed and they were learning more and more and becoming more capable. It helped that most of the current roster was experienced enough that Rhys felt comfortable in leaving them.

Today had been quiet however, and so when his day was over, he had no qualms about bidding the night shift goodnight and heading home. The evening air was crisp, but Rhys was used to it. He tried to spend the majority of his day out and about and was dressed for the weather. He had always thought that having the constabulary visible in the town would help keep things civilized. It seemed to work, he hadn't had any large trouble in a while that required help from the ministry or anything of the sort. It was strange though, having the park still closed, and keeping an eye on that as well.

Speaking of, maybe he should just take a quick walk by the entrance and give it a good look. He hadn't in a few days and though they hadn't been alerted to any trouble so far, it wouldn't hurt to check in. It was just a little past his own house anyway, a nice perk to the small home he'd been able to purchase for himself and Zinnia, and now Emery, when they had moved in together.

Maybe it was intuition, maybe he was just unlucky but as he neared the park entrance, still roped off to deter loiterers, Rhys saw a figure moving beyond the gate. "Oy!" He hollered loudly. "The park is still closed!" Merlin he hoped nobody was dumb enough to go traipsing around, especially as it was getting dark.

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Open to anyone causing mischief, an accidental entry or approved ministry personnel with a reason to be in the park!

  

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The first inky trails of evening had begun to streak across the sky when Bells had spotted the patch of spent asphodels. The beautiful white lilies had shed their petals like tears around them, the edges turning brown and curling inward. Bells couldn't blame them, having lived past one's prime, she had heard was awful. She often considered that, what it would be like to be alive after her body had begun to fail her with old age, when everyone she had known no longer held any usefulness for her. Not that the witch in the forest ever seemed to be unneeded, but still, the fear, or dread, or whatever the spiraling thoughts were that chased around her mind, was still there. But it was more than just how the petals related to her. It was how the very nature of a thing felt in such a moment. Plants like these bloomed. They did the one task they were needed to do. They gave their life to beget another. Most people only saw them for their beauty at worst, or at best how they might help in a potion. But Bells knew that there was magic in plants at every stage of their lives. Their usefulness was there if one only knew what to look for, what to do with the plant. For instance the thin green shoots of the first asphodel bloom of a year could provide powerful protection magic, even more so than it was believed to cause death. The roots when harvested and ground into powder were essential in potions, the stalks when twined together into a charm for the dead helped ease a soul into the afterlife, helping to keep them from reappearing as the dead, and the discarded petals of the asphodel could ease dreams when put into a posset. Every part of the lily's life was beautiful, helpful, wonderful, if one only knew what they were looking for. Humans were like that too. Always useful. But not always in the way one might think. For instance.... Bells' thoughts stopped here, the familiar trail of thoughts she had yet to brave from this spring. She had built the bridge in her mind, the one that would soothe the flow of grief beneath it, but she was not yet ready to make such a step onto it, as tentative as it might be.

And so it was that she traveled from the patch of flowers, gently gathering up the petals and placing them into her basket as if they were sleeping fairies, and then spotting a patch of mushrooms up ahead. She picked up the edge of her skirt as she promised herself she'd turn around and head back to the castle after her long day at Hogsmeade after she had picked a few. They would be, after all, a wonderful specimen to show her class. Her leather boots sunk into the ground ever so slightly with each step in a cadence much more familiar to her than the sound of shoes on stone, the stomping and slapping of feet through the stone hewn corridors of the school. Instead the swish and sweep and squelch of shoes on grass, dirt, and mud, was like a comforting song to her.

From the mushrooms she spotted a fine patch of redwinged moss that she had been hoping to find on the castle grounds and as of yet had not. Then there had been unkempt cattails at the edge of the water, and from there the gillyweed. Before she knew it she had wandered fully into Padmore Park, her basket full of pieces of nature, precious bits of life that would work magic from them.

On soft feet she moved through the grass, feeling the damp air of evening around her, and crouched beside a patch of Niffler's Fancy, the gold leaves glinting in the moon light, when a shout sounded. Bells jumped with a shriek of surprise. Her basket flying out of her hands, her balance thrown off. Someone was yelling at her, what they were saying she did not quite know as her shriek rather drowned them out and she was falling, landing in a patch of damp earth on her bum. When had it gotten so dark? Bells idly wondered as she looked around for the voice, her eyes only just now spotting the gates of Padmore Park. When had she ended up on the Parks' grounds? She had thought she was headed toward the Forbidden Forests and skirting the edges of the notorious wood.

"What?" She yelled back when she finally had some semblance of wits about her - or at least enough to try and figure what the person had been yelling at her. Perhaps they might even answer some of her own questions - such as where had she gone wrong on her path? She was usually much more aware of her surroundings than this.

  

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Rhys didn't even really have full permission to wander into the park. He'd been tasked with keeping people out so that the ministry could figure out what was going on within. So far it had just been kids being stupid and the odd drunk who wandered past the gates, but as he stood near to the wrought iron, he saw it was in fact, a young woman who was wandering farther into the park itself.

"Ma'am!" He didn't yell again, but kept his voice to the tone he often used to give firm directions to a crowd. She really shouldn't be in there for whatever reason it was she had to wander that far in. "The park is still off limits to those who are unauthorized." He thought he knew all of the ministry officials and employees who were allowed in at this point, but as he moved into the park himself, he didn't think she was one. She wasn't even wearing ministry robes.

Fortunately she hadn't gone beyond where he felt comfortable going, though Rhys supposed he ought to feel more sheepish about this, considering he probably shouldn't be this far in either. "I'm going to have to ask you to exit the park." At least he was still wearing his uniform, hat and all, so he looked official enough to be making those demands.

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