lovely day for a walk? `` OPEN

[Abigail Grace O'Malley]

"Oh, it's such a lovely day, isn't it, Pierre?" said Abigail to her little dog that she was walking. This was a daily ritual for Abigail and Pierre. She ran the local tea shop in Hogsmeade that went under the name of Madam Puddifoot's. Abigail absolutely adored the tea shop, as that was the sort of environment she was raised in. According to her mother, tea was the solution for any kind of emotional problem. Even though Abigail didn't get upset very often or very easily, tea always seemed to be the cure for her when she did happen to get upset.

'Lovely' wouldn't be the word that most people used to describe such a day, as it was cold, and overcast. However, this was just the kind of weather that she liked, so that she could pile on as many layers as she liked. One thing that could easily be said about Abigail was that she had a very odd fashion sense. She would wear almost anything except for modern clothing. Her clothing styles varied from colonial to the roaring twenties, but she never wore anything past the 1960's.

For instance, today, Abigail was wearing a dress from the 1880s. It was dark red and had black lace accents. She wore a coat on top of the dress, though, since it was such a cold day. Her hair was parted into what is known as a half-ponytail. It was pulled back with an elegant black pin and her red hair fell in loose curls onto her shoulders. On the top of her head, though was a small collection of roses that matched her dress; they were settled in a small garden style.

Abigail looked down to see her little dog panting terribly. "Aw, poor dear. Are you in need of a rest?" she asked as she bent down to pick up the little dog. With Pierre in her arms, she wandered over to one of the many benches scattered around the station.

[rilen axper castor]

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Considering Rilen had no friends, there wasn't much of an argument when he wanted to visit someplace in Hogsmeade. He had all day, but very rarely was he able to go out on his own. In previous years, he'd been with his upperclassmen acquaintances, who'd tug him around and treat him to sweets, or butterbeer, or firewhiskey. As it was, he was now treating himself, specifically to a steaming paper cup of coffee. It had a nice little holder made of cardboard so he wouldn't burn his ungloved hands. At at that moment, no one was there to tell him he couldn't go visit the station.

He liked the train. He found train rides quite pleasant, considering he'd never been on them in America. America is more about cars and airplanes where the Isles had more walkers and public transportation. It was really a refreshing change of pace, and Rilen could remember when he was young, just 12 years old (because his letter hadn't exactly come when he was 11, or at least he wasn't aware if it had) when he first rode the Hogwarts Express. It was so magnificent and so incredibly foreign to the American boy that he was just overjoyed. Clearly it was naive happiness, but it was happiness nonetheless.

That excitement never truly wore off, did it...?

But now, there was only vague curiosity. Wouldn't it be excellent if he could share these stories with friends who he trusted? But no, everyone was gone, and even then he couldn't truly trust them. They never let him in, so why shouldn't he return the favor? Still, he was surprised to see a woman in the distance, sitting on a bench at the station with her dog. There were no trains... He wasn't even sure if any were scheduled for today. She looked somewhat familiar, though, so he approached with only a bit of hesitation.

Then he realized where he recognized her from. She was the shopkeeper of Puddifoot's, wasn't she? Or if not the owner, than an employee or manager. He'd gotten his coffee from that very place, though he hadn't seen her. Probably because she was down here. His eyebrows raised in surprise, but he kept on trucking down to the station. He finally got close enough to comfortably confront her. She was wearing a quite nice, if old-looking, dress with matching head...gear? It wasn't exactly a hat... Or was it? Rilen himself was wearing Muggle clothing, so he probably couldn't complain, not that he would.

"Excuse me, but aren't you the owner of Puddifoot's?" He wanted to wait for her to answer, but the longer he looked at her, the more he was certain he knew her. "I'm Rilen, and I go to Hogwarts? I visit Puddifoot's whenever we come down here, and I think I've seen you working there."

That was a lie. He knew he'd seen her working there. But it was more polite and less socially awkward to be modest. He watched her for a moment, shocked by how small she was. Yes, Rilen was tall, but he wasn't that muscular or fat. Still, this woman seemed quite tiny. It shouldn't have surprised him, but he was almost a full foot taller than she. It didn't help that she was sitting down and he was standing up.

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^{TAG - abigail !!
WORDS - 555
NOTES - let's see how this goes, shall we?
TUNES - TRON: Legacy Soundtrack !!!
CREDIT - template by MUNZTAR * of caution 2.0}

[Abigail Grace O'Malley]

It was true that Abigail looked quite odd just sitting at the Hogsmeade train station when no one else was around, or when there wasn't even a train scheduled to arrive there today, but...since when did Abigail do anything normally? She looked down to see little Pierre shaking from the cold. "Oh, you poor dear!" she said, grasping the small dog up in her arms to warm him up. "Ah! I've got just the thing!" she said, pointing her index finger up. Abigail pulled out her wand and conjured up a large, fluffy white blanket. "I think we've done enough walking, wouldn't you say, darling?" she said, looking down at the little dog. She gradually and carefully wrapped Pierre up in the large blanket and rested him on her lap. After a few moments, she could feel him gradually stop shaking as hard as he was. It was a rather comical sight to see the woman dressed in very out of date clothing holding a blob of white, with a small, dark head sticking out.

"Oh, Madam Puddifoot," said Abigail, not looking at the boy that had approached him. She wasn't meaning to be rude, of course, this was just one of the many odd things she did. Holding onto Pierre with only one hand, she touched her head, chest, left, then right shoulders. "May she rest in peace," she said, looking down with her eyes closed. Slowly, she began rocking back and forth, humming a song that Madam Puddifoot had taught her when she first started working for her. Oh, she really missed that little old lady!

"Why, yes!" said Abigail, snapping her eyes open and jumping to her feet, still holding on carefully to Pierre. "I do believe I've seen you in there before, little munchkin!" she said, poking him on the nose. "This is Pierre," she said, holding up the little bundle that was the dog. "Say hello!" she said, in a singsong voice. "Oh, and my name is Abigail O'Malley. Who might you be?" she asked, lowering the dog.

[rilen axper castor]

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At first it seemed as if the girl hadn't heard Rilen. If she was who he thought, then it wouldn't be a surprise if she was just occupied with other things. You could ask for her one minute and have her turn her back to you, but then the next minute she'd be right by your side asking what would you like? More tea, perhaps? A bit of sugar? And if Rilen was right, this was her. So he patiently waited, watching as she conjured up a large white blanket for her cold little dog. "I think we've done enough walking, wouldn't you say, darling?"

It was actually quite cute to see her doting on her little dog, and Rilen smiled. She looked odd, that was for sure, but Rilen wasn't perfectly normal himself. After all, he was wearing Muggle clothing. You didn't see many wizards these days walking around in long dark coats (not cloaks) and jeans. But he enjoyed the feeling of muggle clothing. They weren't as loose and susceptible to catching as wizard robes, and the kind he wore were much more comfortable on his skin. Plus, they only took a few moments to wash and dry when he was on his own, where his robes might have little stains around the hem that he could never quite remove, or a stray thread poking out that he was always afraid of tugging out.

The woman suddenly turned very strange, but Rilen knew better than to question her. He stood in silence, one hand jammed into his pocket, the other holding his still-steaming coffee. "Oh, Madam Puddifoot..." she murmured, reminiscing, it seemed. After a moment she began humming. It was a cute short tune, and Rilen just took another sip. It wasn't bitter. In fact, he wasn't sure he could drink black coffee. He liked his with a bit of cream and a bit of sugar, if possible.

Then she just as suddenly reappeared in reality. She leapt up in excitement, crying "Why, yes!" She enthusiastically greeted him, saying, "I do believe I've seen you there before, little munchkin." She tapped him on the nose, which made him blink in surprise. He couldn't respond, he was so shocked, but he apparently didn't need to. "This is Pierre,", she said, gesturing to the dog. When she told him to say hello, Rilen wasn't entirely sure if she was telling the dog to or him to. Not that he could. He was so taken aback by her childish excitement that he didn't think he could speak.

She continued, setting her dog down, who was still all bundled up."Oh, and my name is Abigail O'Malley. Who might you be?" Rilen realized he'd need to answer now, so he cleared his throat. He felt a smile come to his face. "I'm Rilen Castor." He felt a quip rise up in his mind, but stifled it. He wasn't sure if the woman would appreciate it or think it was just odd. He decided against it and went with his other thoughts. "I like your dress, though. It's very pretty. Where did you get it?"

Of course, the dress looked old enough to be an antique, but she may very easily have bought it from some fancy boutique. He didn't want to offend her by directly asking if she'd inherited it or been given it... And he definitely didn't want to talk about her age in any way. He'd learned quite quickly that, after around 25, women don't respond well to such questions.

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^{TAG - abigail
WORDS - 589
NOTES - argh. sorry it's not a terribly good post.
TUNES - two birds stoned at once , chiodos.
CREDIT - template by MUNZTAR * of caution 2.0}

[Abigail Grace O'Malley]

Abigail frowned slightly when the boy didn't say hello to her little dog. Oh, well. She was sure that little Pierre would get over it. Pierre really loved being spoken to, it caused his tail to wag like mad. He would have to make up for this neglect once they got back to the tea shop. All of the patrons adored him, there and they always fed him treats after he did tricks for them. The little dog certainly did fit in with the past circus performer's life. He was a performer, just like she was.

"Rilen Castor," she repeated, as if she had known him his whole life, dazing off into her own little world once again. "What a wonderful name!" she said, with a wave of her hand, as she returned to reality. "Wouldn't you say so, Pierre?" she asked, looking down at the dog in her arms. She felt him trying to wag his tail through the heavy blanket. He replied to her with a small,"Mrrff!" Abigail laughed and scratched him behind the ears. "That's what I though you would say!"

Abigail smiled even wider than she already was when she heard Rilen compliment her on her dress. "Why, thank you, dear!" she said, spreading out her dress with her one free hand. "It has been handed down in my family and my mother just gave it to me. She would have worn it herself, but the poor woman is getting a little plump these days," she said, with a tinkling laugh. "You're a fan of muggle clothing, I see," she said, nodding towards his clothing.

"What year and house are you in?" Abigail asked tilting her head to the side. "I was in Hufflepuff, myself. Oh, it was a wonderful time! There were the few of the offensive students, unfortunately, but...you really have to feel bad for them," she said, with a nod.