Prepping for the Tour

Irika Yamamoto watched silently as Miterhause directed her staff and finalized the last details of the tour. It was four o'clock in the morning, and they were about to leave for the first leg of the tour. Their first destination was one of the medieval castles in Glasgow, Scotland. The castle's owner, also a wizard, was one of Miterhause's business partners and used the castle as a quaint little hotel for both Muggles and wizarding folk alike. He was thrilled to get a business opportunity like this tour, and the fact that he'd have an increase in guests, particularly women, wasn't too bad either.

"Chaotic, isn't it?" Shagswell's voice came from behind her. She turned to see him grinning lightly as he stepped in beside her. They, along with the other editors and staff, were to gather this morning for the Portkey travel. They would arrive straight to the castle's reception courtyard especially created for wizards and witches. The next morning would be a quick preparation before the actual dinner and events proper would begin.

"I think she's doing quite well," she remarked softly. She idly thumbed the hilt of her sword, which was strapped to her side.

"Your sword is always with you, Irika?" he lightly noted, seeing how she carefully adjusted the scabbard on her hips.

"Zansa is my companion," she explained, which showed that naming her blade held high importance for her. "Even if I have a wand, he is to be with me always. He is a family heirloom after all."

"Ah," he nodded in understanding.

"All right, everyone! Gather around!" Miterhause cried out as she gestured the staff to come closer. They began to surround a rather old marble fountain. Several of them eyed it suspiciously.

"It seems to be a rather large Portkey, Samara," Shagswell remarked while he scratched his head.

"It's not going to land on top of our heads when we get there," the editor assured them, slightly exasperated. "This is actually from the castle's grounds; the owner gladly lent it to me. So this is just really returning to its original spot. Is everyone ready then?" She waited until all were holding onto the Portkey and activated it at once.

Yamamoto immediately felt the almost nauseating feeling in her head and stomach and braced her body against the sensation. She felt more than heard a whooshing sound and knew that they were now over the castle itself and floating in the air. At once she pulled out a snowy white feather, which instantly grew larger until she could sit on it, and slowly glided down where the others were descending to as well.

Shagswell was behind her, amazed that such an item could be used. It looked better on her too, as the others moved more like they were cycling as they floated down. It made him feel a bit embarrassed with his legs paddling about.

"That's so amazing!" Miterhause exclaimed as she watched Yamamoto hop down from her feather. It shrunk immediately and floated back to her hand. "I've never realized that a feather could be used like that."

"Only for short distances," Yamamoto replied with a small smile. "And never in strong winds. I could send you one if you'd like."

"Oh, thank you! I'd like that very much," the editor said happily; then the two of them watched as the others followed down. "All right, everyone! Let's get checked-in."

The registration at the front desk was of no incident; although, there were three witches who recognized the Playwitch group as they entered the lobby. They gasped loudly and almost ran in front of Shagswell. "Oh, Lord Shagswell!" one of them exclaimed, as her eyes shined with glee. "We're your absolute fans! We're so lucky to meet you in person! Can we get your autograph, please?"

They started to press closer to him, but suddenly there was a very stern Yamamoto standing in front of them. "Not so close, please," she warned them softly. The woman who first spoke up was about to retort in protest when Shagswell placed a hand on Yamamoto's shoulder.

"Thank you, Miss Yamamoto," he said formally and gave her shoulder a light yet firm squeeze. He then bestowed the women a dazzling smile. "I would love to, my dears. Although, I do need some room for me to see your lovely faces. It just wouldn't do if I can't see them, would it? Now, what are your names again?"

Yamamoto stepped aside as Shagswell talked with them for a while and gave them his signature as a quill and several pieces of parchment quickly appeared in his hand. She did watch them closely, though, just in case. Thankfully they really were just fans, as they giggled and chatted with him, and she sensed no danger from them.

When they left, Shagswell turned to Yamamoto and smiled, yet she felt that there was something else with him. She decided not to ask him about it right now as the editor called out to them as the group walked to the antique elevators.

"Thankfully all our rooms are beside each other," Miterhause remarked as the charmed elevator opened to their floor. "At least we'll be together in some way. Will you be all right, Irika?"

"Yes, thank you," she replied, and they dispersed to their own rooms. They needed to rest and refresh themselves before the dinner started, which would be in a few hours. "I will be fine."

"If there's anything, just Floo me," Miterhause said. She gave Shagswell a sidelong glance before she leaned closer and whispered in Yamamoto's ear. "He likes to play tricks sometimes, and such a teaser. I know that he will not do anything uncouth, but he does like to kid around every now and then."

"Thank you," Yamamoto said. She reached her room and the door, which recognized the personal locking spell the front desk gave her and opened immediately. With a final nod to the editor, she went in and closed the door.

She took a deep breath and went still for a few minutes as she adjusted herself to the room. Admittedly, she found the place absolutely breathless. In the center was the four-poster bed with a sheer cream curtain drawn down. The floor was lushly carpeted in a dark rose color, and the walls decorated in a lighter hue. A huge mahogany wardrobe was placed in one wall with a dresser across it. Walking to one small door, she found out that it was the bathroom, while the third door was clearly the connecting door to Shagswell's room. This was certainly more opulent than her own simple apartment.

The connecting door knocked softly, and when she opened it, she saw Shagswell. He had already removed his outer robe, which showed his simple dark gray long-sleeved shirt, fit snugly to his trim body. "May I come in?" he asked. Yamamoto stepped aside to let him pass.

He slowly walked in, and his face was deep in thought as though he was deciding a way to speak out. He then turned to her and took a deep breath. "Irika, I thank you for what you did awhile ago," he began, "but I do believe you need not be so stern with them. Surely you would not be like that during the actual tour events."

Yamamoto narrowed her eyes, but her voice was calm and soft. "It is my job to be always aware for you and your safety. I cannot chance anything that is potentially dangerous. I understand you want to mingle with your... fans, but I will not allow them to press so closely to you when it is possible for someone to just plunge a knife into your body." She slightly arched an eyebrow at him. "I could place a certain distance from you, but not more than an arm's length, if my close presence makes you uncomfortable."

Shagswell shook his head quickly. "No! No! I didn't mean it that way." He sighed. "I'm sorry, my dear. I guess that I'm really not used to having someone watch over me all the time. Let's do this: why don't we think of a plan on how to do this... bodyguarding. That way, you can do your job, and I can attend to the tour without hassle. Agreed?"

"Very well," she said, nodding slightly. "I would suggest having Miss Miterhause with us, just so she will know what we are going to do."

Shagswell then smiled, rubbing his hands together. "Good! I could treat you out to lunch then!"

"Huh?" she said, a little bit surprised. The man was confusing. One moment he was serious, she almost thought that they'd be having a real argument, but suddenly he's inviting for lunch?

"Food! Surely, Irika, you might be hungry already? Don't worry, I'll take care of everything. I'll tell Samara in a little while. I'll knock on your door after, shall we say, ten minutes?" It was so fast that she could only nod. He patted her cheek. "Brilliant then! I'll see you in a while." With that he went to the door and winked at her as he closed it.

Yamamoto stood there for a few more moments, dumbfounded. What just happened?, she thought. She sighed in resignation and shook her head as she turned to take out her luggage and enlarge them. Very well, ten minutes it was.