Nowhere Special

Basically, Desmond wasn't going anywhere. He was just trying to keep himself preoccupied in the large city, London, which he called 'the home of the Brits'. He was only 14, yet his parents 'trusted' him enough to not get himself kidnapped. They had to move out to London, since Desmond couldn't apparate for two more years. Two years, and he'd be able to go anywhere he wanted, no rules, and maybe even prank a few people of two.

He was almost day dreaming as he walked, thinking about his apparation lessons. They would surely be hard, maybe even harder to get his license at best, but maybe there would be less restrictions, since the place was taken over by Death Eaters. He hated the thought, yet was glad that he was a Pureblood. He had nothing against Muggle borns, and didn't want to be like his teachers.

After a long walk throughout the streets, Desmond sat down on a small chair, near the small coffee shop that Muggles drank. What was it about coffee that wanted them to drink it all the time? It was rather bitter in his opinion, even if he tried to add sugar or milk. All the same really. But regardless, he continued his scan, hoping to see a friend or two from Hogwarts. Or maybe even Jack, his pranking teacher.

Anwen needed out. She was sick and tired of the dreariness in her dance studio, Joyeux Cygnes ( which was French for Happy Swans) , and wanted the shouts and sounds of London. She shed her leotard and tights, and threw on her sweats and shirt. She bid goodbye to her teacher, and left the studio.

Finally, noise! Anwen stopped to just listen for a sec, but was startled when a loud honk pierced her ears. She jumped, and glared at the bus. It's not like it had to announce it was there, it's a 15 foot bus! She thought. She started off down the street, and stopped by her favorite coffee shop. All of the tables were filled with people, and had no extra space. Well there was a space next to that boy over there. He looked ever so slightly familiar, but Anwen just shrugged, and walked over to him.

"Hi. I was wondering if I could sit with you. Every other table is filled." She said as she smiled.

Desmond looked up, his sort of quiet serentity interuppted. Yet, when he did, he saw a girl, whom he did not recognise at all. "Sure," he said with a small smile on his face and nodded. He then wondered what he might say now. He was not very good around people that he didn't know, and it rather showed sometimes. "Sooo..." he said, trailing on the 'O' "what brings you out here?" Desmond scolded himself inside his head. To him, the slightest mistake in any conversation would make him feel like a total idiot.

"I mean..." he said, thinking heavily about what he might say next. Why couldn't he think of anything to say? Writers block? NO! Writers block is only for writing, you idiot! he thought to himself. "What uh...brings you to this fine coffee shop?" Perfect! he thought.

Anwen nodded her head in thanks, and sat down. He looked a little nervous, and contradicted what he was saying. Probably just tired. "I was just a little thirsty, and this is my favorite place to go. The coffee wakes me up, and it taste good, which is an added bonus." I desperately wanted to smile, but I knew I smiled to much sometimes. It was just a thing I did too make sure people didn't think I was mean or nasty.

"I usually have mine black, but if I am not in a good mood, I might have Mocha. What about you?" I didn't want to ramble on and on about myself. It was a bad habit I had around strangers. Needed to work on that.

Desmond was relieved when his question had worked out. He wasn't too good around new people, and often said the wrong or inappropriate thing. It was often a curse with him, and he didn't even know it. Deciding not to lie to the new persons question, he said "Well I actually don't drink coffee. It's too bitter for me." Hopefully this time, honesty would be the best policy.

Looking around the area, hoping that it would not make an impression on the other girl that sat next to him, he tried to think of something that he could try to talk about. He saw many things, but none of them had managed to jolt anything into his brain. He groaned inside his head. He would have to wing it this time. "So..." he said, tapping his foot on the ground silently "what school do you go to?"

"Oh! Uhh... I go to an all year-round boarding school." He had to ask. "One more thing, does the term 'Muggle' mean anything to you?" Well, at least if he didn't know, she could just make up a lame excuse and never look back. But if he did know, he was a wizard. That would at least explain why he looked so familiar. She would have seen him in school somewhere. Not in her house, she would have recognized him on the spot, but definitely not in Slytherin. Too nice.

Desmond was rather astounded that she had known the word Muggle. Usually, most muggles knew the word, yet never said it out in public. So it must've meant one thing. She was a witch. "Yeah," he said nodding his head up and down, with new found confidence "does the word Hogwarts mean anything?" Hopefully she was what he thought she was, otherwise he would have looked very stupid.

He fiddled with his thumbs underneath the table, wondering what she might have been in. She seemed very quiet, yet also outgoing, and the only people that reminded him of that, were Hufflepuffs. Just pure shy people often were in Ravenclaw, while pure outgoing people were in Gryffindor. It was a rather excellent balance.

"It might..." Anwen said. Wizard! She thought to herself. There is no way he could know the name of Hogwarts and not be a wizard. "But before I tell you if it does or doesn't, may I ask your name?" Anwen said. She could not just keep calling him 'the boy', which was rather awkward, because who would like to be called 'that boy' or 'that girl'? It was a rule Anwen had' When saying hello, always state your name. Whether or not the person tells you their's is a different matter.

"The name's Desmond," he said proudly, feeling almost empowered by the way he said it. To him, it showed a lot of courage to tell someones name to another person, even if that was seen a bit ridiculous. He then felt himself get a grip back onto reality and looked back at the girl sitting across from him. "How about you? I never got yours." He wondered why he was being so outgoing, and then realized that was probably just the Gryffindor in him calling out.

He looked around the area, trying to find a new subject for them to talk about, and looked at the shop. It beat talking about nothing. "Want to go get something?" he asked, gesturing over to the small coffee shop.

"Hello Desmond, I'm Anwen. And yes, Hogwarts does mean something to me." I left it at that. He should know by know I was a witch. He then asked if I wanted to get something. "I thought you didn't like coffee." She said, even though he was probably doing the boy thing and just letting her get something while he reserved a table and got nothing. "But sure." Anwen flashed him a smile. She picked up her bag, and and pushed her chair back, waiting for Desmond to do the same.