petrichor is not a synonym for hasty

[Rainne Fall]

It was warm, as could be expected in June, the heat slipping past her cloak and nestling against her neck. Had she not just come from bed, it would have been a welcome reprieve from the icy, inhuman temperature of her skin. But when graced with warm, sleepy husbands, even the coldest woman softens and melts. Had it also not been for the loud banging piano - possessed, she was pretty sure - in the drawing room downstairs, she probably wouldn't have left until next Wednesday. Logan had a way of mumbling in his sleep and wrapping his arm around her waist every time she tried to get up. Even answering the Floo was a process of extraction.

Puddles seemed to jump at her feet as she rounded the corner into Licentious Lane, her charmed cloak-hood keeping her hidden from the passersby. There weren't many, mind, being the last remaining Dark Arts sanctuary in England, but she hadn't grown up playing with dandelions, that's for sure. There were steps you took for situations like these, even if it meant going out of your way to do so. Several hags in the corner seemed to agree, claw-like nails curling slightly as Rainne passed. If they were lucky, they could see a wisp of silver-white hair snake from under the hood before she dipped her head and entered a broken-down shop on the corner.

A cheery bell rang above her head, seeming totally out of place. Rainne stifled the urge to glower and set the thing on fire to spite the owner's sense of irony. The owner, Halbrid, had a constant glare that pinched his face into strange curves and fatty lines; she would think it a product of keeping the shop so dimly lit and the copious amounts of dust clinging to the wares, if not for having known the man for decades.

"What can I do for ye, eh?" He tapped his fat fingers along the mahogany, dark eyes half-covered by lanky hair. Rainne suppressed a cringe. There was nothing like seeing Halbrid's lovely face after waking up to Logan's for the past several months. Really.

The man's gaze stuttered as she revealed herself, placing her hands on the countertop and leaning forward. "I have a possessed baby grand, Halbrid. I'll need to borrow the amulet from Dover," one hand raised to wave about as she tried to remember the precise name, "the one with the scarabs. I know you have it. I'd rather not deal with consulting a specialist, if you know what I mean."

Halbrid hesitated, before nodding, "I'll see what I can get you, Ms. Fall." Having certain blood had perks. The nasty, grimy old men weren't among them.

As the man disappeared into the back rooms, Rainne straightened and glanced around at the objects around her. None of them seemed very valuable - a manner of business which any experienced salesman would condone - but they hinted at Halbrid's greater collection. She slipped a finger through some of the dust, scowling at it, before blowing it from her finger. Some people really need to utilize the fact that they possess a wand. The magical community should never be this disgusting. [/size]

[Professor Cole A. Halliwell]

London. How perfect, how wonderful, how understatedly homely. Especially for one who had grown up down these cobbled streets, experiencing in full the life that was most simply described as polluted. Perhaps the most obvious feature of the London air, after all, was what Muggles had done to destroy it. Even magical means couldn't remove what was most certainly smoggish air, taht prevented one from being able to see the stars at night in the city. That was London, through and through. If Cole hadn't have just come from the freezing grounds of Hogwarts to be here this warm morning, he would have almost been disgusted at the atmosphere; but to be free from shouting children and the lonely bedside was almost perfect. Wonderful.

Not that Cole wasn't here on educational means. He was intent on finding a book that he'd heard was only available down on Licentious Lane, the most irritating of places to visit, but nonetheless one which he certainly would have to go to. It was the kind of place, he considered, that his half-sister would have spent her time, being far more apt at playing the death-eater's child than Cole was. His half-sister did have her talents, and they weren't limited to magical ones. In fact, she would have been mighty useful - an ex-bookshop owner - in finding the very book on the dark arts that Cole wanted. It wasn't for personal use, though he was pretty sure he would get down on reading on it immediately as it was something that had always interested him; but instead was as a favour to personal friend and colleague, Mr Azar Salinas. Azar, the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor had sought this book, for his seventh years class, and Cole, thankfully enough, was the perfect man to find it.

Well, at least, he had the right contacts.

Thankful that his time living under his father's roof meant that he knew exactly how to fit in in the ex-death eater haunts, he quickly made his way, not stopping too long to gaze into anyone's eyes, but not too slowly so as to seem shifty, down to an old shop owned by one Halbrid, that his father had known. Probably not personally, but the name "Aakarshan" threw fear into many-a-heart, and Cole knew it well. One just had to be careful which circles it was thrown around - people were very fast to accuse a fellow pure-blood of Ministry involvement, or worse still - to try and eliminate the man's offspring. It was very personal indeed, and Cole knew it as he wrapped his long dark cloak - billowing ever so slightly in the breeze - around his frame. It always occured to him the stupidity of the 'dark' wizards - no matter what the weather they insisted on wearing three layers, and usually all black. Did they all suffer from icy hearts?

Cole smiled slightly to himself - a dangerous facial expression unless it was sardonic, coy or pure evil - as he pushed open the rickety door to enter the shop. A bell rang overhead as he did so, no doubt making it clear to Halbrid that he was there - even if all the anti-theft hexes would be enough to prevent anyone from trying to steal something. You didn't come to this shop if you didn't know the owner - or at least have the contacts to do so. It was a fatal endeavour, and Cole was pretty sure that he was being profiled by a number of charms just by even approaching the shop front.

Glancing at the counter, he noticed a figure - pale-skinned with whispy white hair - with her back to him, obviously waiting for some kind of response from the shopkeeper, who it seemed was not present, and so he made his way immediately to the bookshelves at the back. He mumbled a few counter-charms and protected his hands before even trying to touch the books. Any wizard worth his dragon heartstrings knew not to touch wizarding books at hte best of times, without them being on the dark arts, and Cole ended up deciding just to check the spines instead. It didn't take long, of course, to realise that the reasonably small collection at the back of the shop was going to be utterly useless. The good stuff was kept out back, and Cole definitely needed the 'good stuff'. He frowned and approached the counter, careful to avoid what looked like a cursed dagger, pointing towards him wherever he walked. How wonderfully Shakespearean.

He glared at the woman in front of him briefly, wishing she would pass and leave and after a few moments of waiting - checking his watch- decided to call out for the shopkeeper. The man would always respond well to cursing, and so Cole would do exactly that. Whoever this woman was, Cole would be able to push in front of her in the queue. He wasn't really in the mood for waiting for banshees to get their own way, after all.

"Halbrid you dirty son-of-a-giant, get the bloody Merlin out here, befor-"

Success.

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[Rainne Fall]

As the door chimed again, Rainne was running through the exchange in her head, making sure she had been referring to the correct amulet. Dover, yes, scarabs. Had it been scarabs, or clover beetles? Then, suddenly, as though being hit over the head, Rainne remembered Halbrid addressing her as "Ms. Fall".

Oh, that's right. Nobody in the magical world really knew. Which, alright, meant Rainne had to go through the legal process of changing her name, relicensing herself for apparition, putting her accounts under different names - and, oh, how she hadn't even thought about this.

Her face set in what most people would never consider a frown (but, being Rainne, and being in public, it stood well enough as one), she began tapping her foot. Logan hadn't even mentioned this very important part of the marriage deal. The entire situation had been a spur-of-the-moment, ground-breaking, spontaneous decision, and probably the best she'd ever made. But still, she told herself, husbands reminded wives that marriage meant name change, even if they didn't do the dishes.

She was broken from her stupor by a familiar, strong voice barking out a call to Halbrid, who grunted from the back rooms. Rainne turned to glare suspiciously, before her face fell completely blank. Oh, right. She had a sibling, whom she hadn't seen or talked to or told about her marriage for a few months now. Also, Cole wasn't the sweetest and daintiest of brothers. She stifled a sigh, raising a tolerant eyebrow.

"Merlin, stop being so hideously loud. Haven't I taught you anything of subtlety?" And, yes, Halbrid was an ogre of a man, but insulting him was not going to make him more apt to, say, not slice your testicles off with a well-enchanted dagger. Seriously. [/size]

[Professor Cole A. Halliwell]

Piercing blue eyes met all-too familiar reddish ones, though their gaze was perhaps less familiar than could be expected. There had been a change behind those eyes, even if their owner would act the same way she always had - hideously sarcastic and ridiculously patronising. And yet, Cole kinda actually loved her, secretly, behind all the mystery that were his own eyes. It was clear what the difference was, what had changed, what was new. Rainne was in love. Finally. Well, it was at least something different and rather new. And not altogether unwanted, either.

He smiled slightly. Cool, calm and collected; that was Cole, even when on the inside he burned up or wanted to scream. How could she be so... emotionless at a time like this? Not that he could understand, or ever would. Rainne was a mystery to him - the sister that he hadn't grown up with and so subsequently spent a few years at Hogwarts making up for lost time with. It was all a little confusing for him, all a litle foreign. All a little diferent. And Cole didn't react well to different. Or at least, he didn't used to, before his travels abroad and the change of life every day.

The girl remained a mystery, not least because she had begun doing things he didn't understand. Now a young woman, the albino was just as excitingly odd as she had been that first time Cole had bumped into her in the library at Hogwarts in their first year. This was just as strange, really, as sitting in Hermione Potter's office - waiting for her to reveal the truth behind Cole's and Rainne's lineage, and the thing that would change both of their lives. At least now he could pick and choose what he saw of her. If she was up for it, that is, and not with her husband whom she had so succesfully hidden from most of the Hogwartean world.

"Oh, my apologies, Fall-" he said, his sarcasm dripping from his voice, "- or should I say Renly? I suppose I can take a leaf out of your book on subtlety." Yes, you see, Kelly had told him. She'd let it slip. nice person.

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