Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Attraction often works subtly, causing those under its influence to deviate from their normal routine for no reason that they can discern, for although the allure of another is initially gentle, it is constant, and like a breeze blowing a few grains of sand, the first effects are not noticeable, and it even appears that nothing has changed which causes those affected to blithely ignore the small events accumulating so gradually that they are caught by surprise when they discover the entire dunescape of their lives has changed.

Let's see those wannabe romance writers handle a little subtlety, thought Cho.

"We're not doing much these days," said Remus.

"We're observing," said Alastor, "observing quietly. Enjoy it. Trouble be finding us soon enough. And Pansy."

"Pansy?"

"Didn't you see the way she looked at you, lad?"

"No."

Biff and Theo faced a dilemma.

"Whose turn is it to be sensitive?"

"Flip a coin. Do you have one?"

"A tuppence."

"A tuppence. We can't decide something this important for a tuppence."

"Then sensitivity will have to wait."

"This is my fourth cup of tea," said Remus, "and I'm still falling asleep. It's barely dawn, too early for evil doers, and I don't want to hear about being eternally alert."

"Something will happen today. I can smell it in the air," said Alastor.

As the two sniffed the breeze, three secret members of the recent rebellion arrived at a table across the square. They ordered coffee and poppy seed muffins and waited. There was a rumor that the clan traitor Pansy Parkinson was in the area.

"Nothing exciting happens these days," said Remus.

"Aye, lad, not like the old days," said Alastor. "I could tell you stories."

"That might help," said Remus, yawning.

As Alastor gathered his thoughts, four undercover agents from the drug-enforcement branch arrived at a table a discreet distance form the other guests. They ordered coffee and butternut muffins and waited. There was a tip that the slippery Pansy Parkinson might be carrying something illegal today.

"One of the better cases was decades ago when Shacklebolt was just a constable," said Alastor. "It concerned a thief. His modus operandi was to sneak up on a witch, pinch her bottom hard enough that she screamed, and in the resulting confusion, snitch her wand."

"Should be easy enough to solve," said Remus.

"You would think so," said Alastor, "but he eluded all efforts to catch him. The constabulary was soon facing a horde of angry women, some of them threatening to show us their bruises."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," said Remus.

As Alastor paused to let the suspense build, two members of the smugglers guild arrived and took a corner table. They ordered coffee and bran muffins and waited. They had heard that the renegade dealer Pansy Parkinson might try to ply her trade here.

"The only clue," continued Alastor, "was that at the scene of every crime, there were always chocolate-frog wrappers."

"Did that lead anywhere?" asked Remus.

"We set a trap," said Alastor. "Shacklebolt volunteered."

As Alastor took a deep breath to continue the tale, three vigilantes arrived and took the remaining table. They ordered coffee and pistachio nut muffins and waited. The grapevine had informed them that the uncatchable Pansy Parkinson was fond of this café's blueberry muffins.

"We filled Shacklebolt's pockets with chocolate frogs," said Alastor, "and he wandered through the streets munching down the candy and loudly proclaiming that he loved chocolate frogs, that he had lots of them, and he was going to eat all of them."

"You sent him out alone?" asked Remus.

"No, no," said Alastor. "He was followed by constables with wands at the ready. Senior officers were in reserve with flasks of incapacitating potion, and I commanded a squad of wizards who could ride fire-breathing dragons."

It was at this point that a lady joined them at their table and asked what they were doing up at this ungodly hour. The diligent waiter arrived and said, "Here's your coffee and blueberry muffin, Miss Parkinson."

The first round of hexes blew the café au lait out of the Trio's cups.

"My new blouse!" screamed Pansy as her return curse split some wigs.

Her second throw went awry as Alastor and Remus grabbed their little muffin and pulled her under the table.

"You made me muff it," she complained, grabbing her blueberry muffin on the way down.

The second round of curses shattered the ashtrays, including the one Pansy had spotted as worth taking home. The Trio crawled under a neighboring table, Pansy a bit clumsily since she was still clutching her muffin. Even though only a few combatants were still standing, the third round sliced through the awning poles, and the breeze carried the canvas away. As the morning sun revealed the scene to all, a few defensive spells were thrown as the four groups retreated, hauling away their wounded and deciding that Miss Parkinson was tougher than she looked.

Pansy looked ruefully at her smashed muffin and said, "Do you two always cause such destruction?"

"What happened to Shacklebolt?" asked Remus.

"He never ate another chocolate frog," said Alastor.

"What? Why?" asked Pansy. "I like chocolate."

Those prats, they lost their sensitivity coin. And they don't have any credit in that department either. thought Cho. I've got them on the run. Let them try to develop this.

As they departed form the wreckage of the outdoor café, it seemed natural to Pansy that she and Remus would leave together. She told herself that she was being wise: keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

"Have you had breakfast," she asked him.

When he said he hadn't and that they should look for someplace, she yielded to an impulse and took his hand. Part of her wondered what she was doing. Another part of her noticed that she was wandering through the streets of London, holding hands with Remus, and not really looking for a breakfast nook. When he stopped in front of a French pastry shop, she realized she wasn't hungry, but she wanted to have breakfast with him. They ordered coffee, croissants, and orange juice. They picked at their food.

"Do you have to get back to work?" she asked.

"My work is to observe you. My plan is to pretend to leave and surreptitiously follow you." He squeezed her hand. "I'll gladly watch you all day."

Oh, Wolfie, that's sweet, thought Pansy. Wait, I mean I won't have to worry about what he's digging up about me.

"Good plan," she said. "Where do you want to meet for lunch?"

He yawned.

"We should rest from the morning's excitement before undertaking a strenuous game of cat and mouse," she squeaked.

They retired to his flat since it was too early in the game for him to track her to her new lair. She stretched out on his hearth rug, and he obligingly lit a fire in the fireplace.

"Let's pretend," she said as he stretched out beside her. "You're not a law enforcement officer, and I'm not a fugitive prejudiced against those who are not pure in blood."

The fugitive traced his face with her fingers. He didn't protest. The prejudiced lady ran her fingers ran through his hair. He didn't mind. The snobbish aristocrat brushed him with her lips – his forehead, his eyes, his nose. When her lips reached his, her restraint vanished, and she kissed him fervently. She pushed her tongue between his teeth. She had never done that before. She heard him moan.

Oh, wow, thought Pansy.

She snuggled against him feeling both calm and full of wild urges. She listened to him sigh as she cuddled him. She was in a place where reason and reality had no place She laid her head on his shoulder and stroked his hair as the not-a-law-enforcement-officer fell asleep in her arms. As she relaxed and a comfortable feeling flowed through her, she reminded herself that she was playing a deep game, possibly a dangerous game which might have added some spice except she knew she was more than a match for a mere law officer.

When he woke, they had lunch and saw some of the sights of London. That evening, they waved goodbye, and she snuck away to her own flat. Any sense of sensibility did not return until she awoke the next morning and the proverbial light of dawn came crashing down.