western outskirts of london--fall--1999

Downtown. The sky was bleak, and the air bore the weight of the saturated clouds above. It was about mid-day. Elroy Astor sat on the sidewalk opposite a metal bench -- painted with a long-since weathered advertisement for a criminal lawyer -- counting and picking at the scabs on his knuckles. A day or two prior he'd wound up in a pretty terrible state, humiliated and intoxicated; in a fit, he'd taken his shame out on one of the countless brick walls in his maze-like alleyway home. A few carpals broken, maybe, but it'd heal up in a month's time. At the very least, the wound carried no impediment beyond the standard ration of pain. He wrinkled his nose a moment in an attempt to pacify an itch at his upper lip. He sneezed, yawned. Stretched one leg, then the other. Anonymity.

Rachel had been doing some shopping. The grocery stores in the western districts all had bargain bins, and God knows she needed to save the money. Her job at Madam Malkin's didn't pay very well, and her rent was expensive. And, she did not expect her parents would aid her in any sort of way. As soon as she had left home, she had been on her own.

She mused over her options. She wasn't very intelligent or interesting, so that ruled out going to university and getting a decent job. She could always just get married, but she never possessed the beauty that her late sister had.

Unfortunately for the both of them, Elroy stretched out his left leg again at a rather bad time, causing her to nearly trip.

"Agh!-" Rachel quickly steadied herself just in time, and she turned to glare at the owner of the leg. But, her face softened when she realized that it belonged to Elroy.

"Elroy, you look like you're thirty-five!" Rachel said in lieu of a greeting. She didn't mean to come across as rude, she was just genuinely surprised at how old he looked.

"Oh. Huh. Yeah. Sorry," he said absently, sitting up a little straighter and itching at his whiskers. "I, uh, wasn't looking."

"Nah, it's fine." Rachel brushed it off, and she sat next to Elroy on the bench. She picked at the cuticles of her nails, trying to think of something to say.

"Hey Elroy, what was the point of taking astronomy in Hogwarts?"

"I 'unno," Elroy replied with disdain. "Like... field study, or somat. Vocational rubbish."

"Vocational, huh." Rachel leaned back against the bench. "That's kind of what Hogwarts is, though. I mean, I barely know how to do long division myself."

"I think most people lose track of that beyond schooling age regardless of where you go." He shrugged and attempted to crack his neck.

Rachel shrugged. "I guess so. But do you know what calculus is?"

"No."

"I don't either. I think it has to do with calculating things, though."

"Sherlock," he muttered.

Rachel rolled her eyes at Elroy. "It IS rather elementary, I guess."

He chuckled. "Nice."

Rachel smiled back, and she looked up towards the sky was which quickly being darkened by clouds. "Elroy, do you ever feel a little loss living like you do?"

Elroy shrugged, glancing off and scratching at his chin again. There were a few sores beneath his stubble. "It's not really too big of a deal, to be honest."

"I guess so. But, wouldn't you rather have a stable income, or something?" Rachel looked at him thoughtfully, but then she turned away.

"I can't talk, though. I'm awfully bored right now. I think I would rather be in school." she declared.

"... I mean, the meals were okay, but... really. I wouldn't miss that old bunker for shit." he muttered, glancing her way briefly. "Why?"

"I don't know. I guess I really don't like cooking for myself, for one thing. And Madam Malkin's is a bit boring, but it's not a sweatshop. And I miss friends, and boys." Rachel chuckled to herself.

"Wait, I didn't have any friends. I forgot."

"You're joking, aren't you? You were one of the most popular twats about."

"Twat, huh." Rachel turned right back around at him, but she was actually laughing a bit. "Is there a double meaning behind this?"

"None that I know of," he said, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.

"Yes there is!" And Rachel gave him a playful push. "I wasn't that popular with the boys. You were more popular with girls than I was with boys."

"Well..." He broke into a full grin, taking the brunt of the push. "Regardless."