It was a warm day, a pleasant break from the rain we'd been receiving lately. I found myself stepping through the archway from the Leaky Cauldron's alleyway to Diagon Alley. I followed in step behind my older brother, Klaus, en route to meeting up with Anna Walker, his girlfriend. By some sort of miracle, Klaus and I had managed to convince our parents that we would be fine venturing into the dangerous and perilous zone that is Diagon Alley by our onesies, without any parental supervision whatsoever.

As it were, it seemed that not only had our parents given in to our persistent nagging, but that the weather had decided to be agreeable too. Meeting up with Anna, we managed to decide that a trip to Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlour was in order, and then we could commence our expedition for school books and supplies.

"And what would you like, Miss?"

"Errrrm," I paused thoughtfully.

"Make up your mind," Klaus whined, perhaps a bit annoyed with the indecisiveness of the female species.

"Hurry up, RVS, you're holding up the queue."

I turned around to see who had called me that, ready to give them an ear full about the importance of making the correct choice of ice cream flavour, when I realized it was only Fred and George Weasley, one of which sent me a wink while the other sheepishly shrugged upon seeing my angry expression.

I smiled, "Well, since it's you troublesome two waiting to place an order, I do believe I will take all the time that I feel like in making this earth-shattering decision."

"Urgh," Klaus groaned in frustration. Anna remained quiet, not one to intervene in the brotherly-sisterly banter, and continued licking her strawberry ice cream.

"Fine, fine, I guess I'll have Irish Cream, since I have to make a hasty decision and can't weigh my options."

"Rue, you get the same flavour every time we come here, and yet you always make a scene about wanting to 'branch out' and 'try new things'. You've got to be one of the most regimen-oriented people I know," Klaus said, as he paid for my ice cream.

I shrugged, having little to say. I liked to stick to routine, and I nary ventured far from my well-beaten path of operation. But, hey, maybe one day I really would try a different flavour at Fortesque's. Maybe next time I'd try Double Chocolate Mint, or Pistachio Nut, or Sun-Dried Tomato Swirl. ... Well, maybe not Sun-Dried Tomato Swirl, but the other two sounded perfectly agreeable.

I digress. To put the entire day, thus far, into perspective, I was in an agreeable mood because of my agreeable parents and the agreeable weather, and I was thoroughly enjoying the absolute best flavour of ice cream there is on the planet.

Or so I felt, until that bloody Gryffindor's path crossed mine when I went to look at the new Nimbus 2001.

"Thinking about getting one, Wood?"

He nearly jumped out of his trousers; I had effectively frightened the Scotsboy. I'd call him a Scotsman, but, well...


"You getting one, then?"

"I wish."

He was too in awe of the bloody stick with twigs to really volley back a snide remark or two like he normally would have. I looked between William Wallace and the Nimbus 2001 and back several times. It's difficult to banter with your enemy when it's completely one-sided.

I poked him. Hard.

"What was that for?"

"Ignoring me."

"I thought you didn't like talking to me."

"I don't," I answered simply with a shrug, innocently licking at my ice cream.

He glared at me, "Then why bother?"


We stood in silence for a time. Wood glaring daggers at me while I continued to enjoy my ice cream, looking up at him innocently in what I hoped was a puppy dog-adorable fashion.

Just then, the shopkeeper walked past.

"'Scuse me, sir, but I was wondering if I might buy that broom."

The shopkeeper stopped in his tracks and moved to stand between myself and Wood.

"That's the last one we have left in the shop, I'm afraid..."

"No matter. How much would you like for it?"

Wood, and the shopkeeper, gawked at me as though I had told them that the sky was raining pixies and dragons were spitting Bertie Botts.

"You can't be serious," Wood groaned. Obviously, he had wanted the broom for himself.

"Oho, but I am, my good man!" I turned to the shopkeeper, "So, how much?"

Thirty minutes after bartering with the shopkeeper and arguing with a begging Wood, I found myself walking down the cobblestone street of Diagon Alley with a wrapped up Nimbus 2001 under my arm, and blissfully unaware of the googly, lovey-dovey eyes Klaus and Anna were making behind me, as we made our way back to the Leaky Cauldron.

Yes, it had been a very agreeable day indeed.