A return to the city

Silvyr stood up from in front of the fire and morphed into his wolf form. He needed a break and a chance to think the spell out that was ever present on his mind. He didn't expect the walk to take him as far as it did. After a few hours he noticed he had traveled far enough south to apparate to the closest city from where they had made camp.

He walked next to the shops of the streets that were open for the citizens of the town to enjoy. He walked by pubs and taverns that seemed to be the most popular for the time of year. Men and women alike joined in song and festivities that made them merry and loud. Silvyr continued past, not wanting to join them as a stranger in a small town. He crossed an empty street and made his way into an ods and ends bookshop.

The shop was some what empty though it had a lot of nick nacks around the store. He browsed through making his way next to the book shelves. The were filled with books that had no meaning to him. Some fantasy and others non. They were all for muggles though so he found none worth his time. He walked back to the font of the shop and exited hearing a woman's voice hollering out, Happy Holidays!

He turned to say the same yet was stopped by something in his way. He didn't know what he had hit but he had come to an abrupt halt and was taken aback to find that he had ran into someone."I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going." He quickly apologized before looking up to see who it was.

Whight stared at his reflection within the mirror he stood before while smoothing his jacket and adjusting his features. He had not been out in days due to his relentless studying. He knew it would be nice to see a touch of daylight and a change of scenery other than endless pages of words. He readied himself, checked that his wand was in place and his journal in hand; he only stopped once more to grab the books he was about to take and trade back to the local bookshop.

He left his home pausing only to momentarily take in the chill of the weather; he twisted his collar up, tightened his scarf and made his way toward the city. The streets were less crowded during this season mostly because no one wanted to remain in the cold for any longer than they had to. The cold never bothered Whight nor did the temperature of any other season for that matter; the changes were a part of life and complaining about the condition would serve no purpose. The streets were filled with joyous songs and music that poured out of pubs and taverns that Whight paid no attention to. He only wished to fulfill his errand before his Master return.

As he walked, books in hand, he noticed the shop coming into view. Because of his mother he took an interest in reading stories written in the muggle world. This not only added to his vast knowledge but it kept him up to par as to what was going on in the world he lived in part of the time. Whight approached the door and as he turned the handle the door swung open to a men leaving and speaking to someone behind himself simultaneously. He tried to slow the man but he was a little caught off guard himself, thus he collided with the individual.

When he regained his stance and mentally checked himself over, Whight dismissed the apology, "Don't worry about it, it's quite alright," he said with a light wave of the hand. Whight was at first intrigued by the individual just by the way he looked; someone of worth. But being as he was Whight did not push for conversation, he left that to others.

He took a step back and gathered himself for a moment while taking in what had just happened. He thought to himself. Damn Muggles and their holiday greetings He felt stupid immediately after thinking it.

Silvyr looked at the man who he had just collided with. The man dressed well, almost to well for the town he was in. He appeared out of place with his dress shirt, tie, and vest of a dark blue and black color scheme. His glass went well with his out fit and his hair seemed to be cut perfectly to his liking. Silvyr was surprised the man wasn't being chased by a group of horny drunk women.

Silvyr noticed the unnerving of the mans face. He hadn't seemed angry but more bothered by the fact their bodies had touched. After gathering himself he addressed the man in front of him, "Sorry, I was distracted by the woman inside. I hope I didn't ruin your night. Your dressed nice, I'll let you get back to you date." He couldn't help himself to poke some fun at the man standing in front of him. He prided himself on his observance and the books in the mans hands standing in front of him were that of the muggle world. He guessed that he was a muggle and with that decided that the man held little value to him.

Whight studied the man's eyes closely seeing the judgement streak across his face as he slipped a small smile. He noticed the man's slight reaction after he had placed Whight within a mental category. He pushed his glasses to their proper position atop his nose while waiting for the next response from the unfamiliar individual. When it came Whight couldn't suppress the small laugh that came, he picked up on the small joke but took no offense.

"You have not ruined my night by any means, just a minor bump in the road; no pun intended," he said with a smile, "You shouldn't be so quick to assume things about those you know little about, just some friendly advice. I do appreciate the compliment on my attire but as for the date, no such occasion exists." He thought to himself once more, Who is this man? Clearly he's not from this area. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen someone carry themselves the way man before him did.

Whight guessed the man would only have more jokes to say rather than quality conversation. He tipped his head toward the fellow saying, "Farewell," with his body language. He took one last glance into the man's eyes and began to step forward toward the door of the bookshop.

Silvyr smiled slightly at the joke the man had used. He thought of the man as somewhat dry when he had first seen him, though it now seemed he had gotten it wrong. He put his hands into his pockets while the man spoke again closer to his wand not knowing what might happen. Silvyr understood the subtle hints that the man standing in front of him had given. It shocked him though that he hadn't picked up on it sooner.

Silvyr spoke again before the man in front of him could leave. "You're right, assumptions can put you in the ground." he said bluntly. He wondered what had brought the man to this area and why he hadn't seen him before. He was a hermit in school himself yet he had still seen everyone that had been there once or twice. This man's face he had never seen before and the thought made him worry. He knew that you couldn't trust anyone in this time, but what would have happened had this man been trying to kill him. He knew the Death Eaters and Order were working together but he wouldn't rule out the idea of Grindelwald's personal hit wizards.

He let the thought go, knowing it was foolish to believe Grindelwald had ever heard of him. Let alone target him. Though someday you will. He thought to himself. He addressed the man again who he was speaking to. "Why are you going into this library if you don't mind me asking. Doesn't it prove rather lacking in it's literature selection, for you?" he asked, not wanting to pry though still interested.

Whight paused before taking another step. The question, as harmless as it was, took him by minor surprise but he did not let it show; memories flashed behind his eyes. He caught the undertone the man had produced and to confirm the man's curiosity he said, "I was bringing these books to trade for new ones," gesturing to the books in his left hand. "I find mugg...," he intentionally hesitated, "..all books interesting, whether they be of this world or of another; knowledge of all may one day prove to be beneficial."

Whight let his comment settle with the intrigued man while he readjusted the right of his collar and took a swift look at his surroundings. He figured it was his turn to be polite since the man he had been interested in showed interest in him. "What brings you here?" he asked, "I know this place well and come here often yet, I have never seen you here before. Do you not find it lacking in your preferred selections considering you believed it to be lacking in mine?"

Though Whight felt slightly more comfortable around the man, he kept a wary eye on his every movement. His guard remained up due to the simple fact that Whight had no idea what the man was capable of, but in the same since the thought should be mutual. He remained in place for the conversation to continue, enjoying the fact that he may actually receive worthwhile conversation from someone other than his Master. He let his features show that he had began taking interest in the man but, in the same sense, did not give him any more power over the conversation than Whight himself had.

Silvyr knew that knowledge was beneficial no matter the source. A valuable lesson his parents had taught him as a child. He had only browsed around lightly. His mind had been in another world, where the spell was still waiting to be completed. He caught the wizarding term before the man could cover it efficiently. He relaxed in some ways though tensed in others. Why was this wizard out and about. Where had he come from?

The thoughts left his mind quickly again thinking he probably looked just as suspicious. "So what are you doing in this tiny town in North London?" Silvyr asked the man casually. He doubted the answer that the man would come up with next would be true but it didn't stop his interest.

Whight knew they both were on the same page now. Though he knew nothing of the man he felt comfortable. There was always the potential that he could be there to cause a great deal of problems, but Whight thought that unlikely. He quickly became interested in what stories the man could tell but he knew that would have to come in time, if ever.

"I could ask you the same question," he said. "As for me, my home is but minutes from here. It's my home away from home, my outpost so to speak." Whight realized then just how few people actually knew where he lived and how even fewer had actually entered his place of peace.

Whight glanced at the books that began to weight in his hand. "If you give me a moment I will return these books and we could continue this conversation in a more comfortable setting if you would like." He almost hoped the man would take him up on his offer. It had been weeks since Whight had been given the opportunity to speak of what may be taking place in the wizard world; the muggles were a bit dull most of the time.

Silvyr didn't realize this town had been home to wizards. He would have to be less careless on his next outing. If another wizard sees Leah he will be little more than an easy target. Silvyr remained calm and pushed the annoyance of his stupidity into the back of his mind. He would deal with it later.

He glanced down the street at the pubs he had passed just minutes ago. They were loud, to loud to hold a conversation in. He scratched the back his head, "Yes. But where is there to go? Everything I've seen so far has been crowded and loud." He would rather continue his walk if there was no where else to go.

Whight thought for a moment and the his eyes brightened at the thought. He hadn't been there in years but he loved the place and it would be perfect for what they were looking for; quiet private, and secure. It was the professor's old study filled with ancient books. Whight spent every summer in the room endlessly studying and he had practically memorized by the last of his school years. It had become his second bedroom during his stay.

His eyes lifted slightly, "I know just the place, my old study. I'm Whight," he said while shifting his hand toward the man to produce a firm hand shake. "Just one moment." He slipped inside the building and only to return with one book in his hand. "Shall we?" he gestured down the street.

As they walked Whight stated with, "So tell me, before we continue other bits of conversation in more private quarters, what are the happenings in the wizard world as of late, both good and evil if you go by those categorical terms." A small smirk slipped across his face, but it signaled nothing more than the fact that Whight was simply interested in conversation with this man. They would soon arrive at the old professor's house. Whight's day had hopefully taken an interesting turn.