Harvey Ridgebit

[phineasablack]

July 1904 | Competition | Phineas & Harvey

[phineasablack]

  Deflecting. Interesting…

“I’ve enough money from my family’s estate that I spend my time elsewhere. Traveling is preferable to employment.” It was, of course, a terribly arrogant thing to say, but Phineas found the arrogance bleeding out automatically.

“Odd jobs, you say? I’ve heard of your adventures. Pray, tell me, are these odd jobs anywhere near as exciting? Surely one such as yourself would get bored easily. I know the curse of tedium well.”

If it felt to Harvey like an interrogation, then he was perceptive enough. While Phineas was attempting to sound casual enough, he wouldn’t regret if Harvey felt uncomfortable.

Gods, I’m turning into my brother…

[harveyridgebit-blog]

Nodding nervously, Harvey ran a shaky hand through his tangled hair before remembering the action was the epitome of bad manners. "Of course, I should have known. Do you travel for pleasure then?" 

Some people liked to call Harvey Ridgebit a reckless individual. He didn't exactly prove them wrong with his complete lack of poise and puppy-like eagerness to jump into dangerous, life-threatening situations. And he sensed one such situation right now, a face-off with the ever elusive and slightly threatening Phineas Black. Just like dealing with a threatened dragon, he thought, I must show no weakness or he will pounce.

And just that quickly, he could feel the determination in his chest harden, and he straightened his shoulders purposefully, making his posture grow to its full stature; meeting the other man's curious eyes. 

"My jobs do take me all over the world. I have been as far as Australia, even having visited places such as Araby, and each time I bring back a new trade, as well as some interesting souvenirs. See? Those are Opaleye scales I gave to Gladys once." He points to the window where the scales hang artfully, throwing colored light into the shelf of the window.

The one thing Harvey failed to understand was why exactly Phineas felt so threatened by him. Their first meeting, and already so much tension? Unless he'd personally offended Black in the past, he saw no point for it.

[phineasablack]

July 1904 | Competition | Phineas & Harvey

[phineasablack]

  This man was smiling widely, and Phineas found himself unsure of how to proceed. Harvey’s good looks were enhanced by his grin, and despite his determination to do so, Phineas was finding it difficult to despise him.

Attractive men had far too much power, he decided, though he rather did prefer beauty to the alternative.

A handshake? It was very Muggle, something Phineas usually found acceptable—welcome, even—but coming from this man, it was a fault. Had his travels turned him into such a savage?

“Has she now?” he asked. “I do hope she’s said nothing too embarrassing. Though of course she is more polite than that.”

Talk of Gladys was all well and good, but Phineas wanted to know his story. Knowledge was power, and he rather wanted to know how best to remove the competition. “You’ve only recently arrived in town?” he asked casually, glancing from Harvey to a broom display and back. “How did you find yourself here?”

[harveyridgebit-blog]

The man was polite enough, but there was something to his tone, when he asked about him. It made his eyes steely,and showcased his signature Black threat, subtler maybe than his other family members, but definitely there. 

Harvey struggled not to squirm from the too casually phrased question, turning slightly away from Phineas. Questions about his past were not something he enjoyed; it usually led to closed business contracts or open disgust. He scrambled internally at high-speed trying to come up with a suitable answer.

"I suppose you could say I needed a type of central base. My childhood home is not far from here, yet it is still busy enough that I get good business, with some interesting... odd jobs every now and then to keep me on my toes," he rocked up onto his feet while saying this, trying to keep his stance relaxed and his tone even. Yes, there; specific enough to make him stop asking, but ambiguous enough that he didn't give away the full nature of his work. "Speaking of jobs, what do you do?"

[ailiz-series-addict]

[phineasablack]

July 1904 | Competition | Phineas & Harvey

Phineas would deny it to his grave, but he was unusually threatened by this Harvey fellow that Gladys seemed to enjoy associating with.

It wasn’t so much that he doubted his own merits—he was a Black, after all, and confidence was inborn; rather, he feared Harvey’s. Stories of that man’s travels seemed to rival his own, and though he certainly wasn’t planning for anything beyond Gladys’ friendship, he did enjoy her admiration.

And now another man threatened that.

Though he’d often heard reporters and old witches say he was firmly planted in his brother Sirius’ shadow, they were so different it wasn’t a fair comparison. But while both Black brothers could coexist quite peacefully, there wasn’t nearly enough room in London for Phineas and Harvey and their insatiable wanderlust.

A surprise visit to Gladys’ shop didn’t produce Gladys, unfortunately, but it did produce Harvey. Or at least the man Phineas imagined to be Harvey. Having never seen him, he couldn’t be sure, but there was a certain ruggedness to him. Plus, he was admittedly quite attractive. No wonder Gladys enjoys his company… Phineas thought.

“Good day, sir,” he said finally as he approached Harvey. “Would you be  the same Harvey Ridgebit that Miss Boothby has before spoken of? I’m Phineas Black. Pleasure to meet you.”

[harveyridgebit-blog]

Harvey was wandering around the back of Gladys' shop when he heard the door. She had run on a quick errand down the road, and Harvey volunteered to watch the shop for her, knowing she'd never ask him to but also knowing it would kill her to close it, even for a small amount of time. 

Fully prepared to meet whoever was at the door with a smile, his polite air immediately turned into a bright grin when Phineas Black stepped through the door. 

Though they'd never met in person, Harvey had heard many tales about the well-dressed man, and Gladys had only bolstered it, telling him about some of his fantastical sounding adventures. He strode over to him in large steps, taking in his sharp and clever appearance. Surreptitiously, he smoothed a hand over his vest then through his tangled hair, grudgingly intimidated at meeting someone so well-traveled.

As soon as the man introduced himself, Harvey bowed smartly, knowing it was expected in the presence of a pure-blood.  "Good day to you, Mr. Black. I am indeed Harvey Ridegebit. Miss Boothby has told me quite a bit about you, as well. The pleasure is all mine." 

He put his hand out and then quickly snatched it back in an aborted movement for a handshake, kicking himself internally as he forgot the Wizarding rules of polite conduct. His etiquette teacher would have been in tears.

[harveyridgebit-blog]

It's Not Exactly Safe for You To Be Here (Harvey and Indra)

[indragreyback-blog]

  The beast didn’t understand a word that the human was saying. Her confusion caused another loud growl to rip from her throat, and she took another step forward. The human’s eye contact was perhaps the only thing keeping it alive, but she was definitely displeased with the human. Just one false move, one false move and it was all over for the gentleman. Pouncing, she pushed him down to the floor with ease, her front paws resting on his shoulders. Bringing her muzzle incredibly close to his face, she growled again, her warm breath hitting his face. She was incredibly displeased with this human, he was an unnecessary addition to her otherwise peaceful night.

Just as the beast snapped her head back to finish the human, the beast caught sight of the moon. It was falling, the night was almost over. Her transformation was almost near, and she knew it. With a whimper, she turned and fled from the human, bounding deep into the forest with light feet. Sure enough, soon after the moon had gone from the sky, and her painful transformation had begun. Her loud, wolfish howls had soon turned into human cries, as she lay naked on the ground. Her limbs ached, and she felt terribly sluggish. She pulled herself up from the floor though, gathering from the darkness of her surroundings that she was close to where she had left her clothing. Surely, she was near the middle of the forest.

She moved quickly. She always did, after her transformations, for all she wished to do was go home and sleep the day away, sleep away her bone deep aches. After eventually locating her wand and dress, Indra clothed herself before sitting down on a rock. She was too exhausted to apparate, and too exhausted to walk. She needed a moment to rest, to collect herself. She was aware of the terrible state that was in regarding her appearance, but surely, the gentleman that she had pounced on had enough sense to run as soon as she had turned and gone. Nobody would see her; she would not bring shame to her family tonight. 

As per usual, she massaged her aching muscles, drawing the hem of her dress up slightly so that she could massage her legs. With her eyes closed, Indra blocked out all sounds of the woodland, thoughts of the man in her head. Who was he, why did he try to speak to her in such a way? His face was somewhat blurred in her memory, perhaps he was someone she had known. Whomever he was, Indra was thankful that she had not committed another unforgivable sin that night. She let her hands drop, surrendering to her curious thoughts of the man.

[harveyridgebit-blog]

He felt the floor hit his back in a sort of detached manner, as if he was floating about above the scene, watching himself in that precarious position as the creature growled in his face, felt his eyes screw shut and heard the frantic, desperate thoughts pound through his head as its scorching, damp breath drew ever closer to the rapid pulsing in his neck.

As he was preparing himself for the worst, there was a sudden change in weight on his chest. He chanced a look at the beast, whose head was, for some reasons, pointed up to the sky. Following its line of sight a best he could, he tilted back surreptitiously and found that it was looking up at the moon. This puzzled him greatly. The only known carnivorous mammals found in modern society were werewolves, and this beast matched almost none of its characteristics.

Before he could study it any longer, it bounded off his chest with a great force that caused a bright flash of pain in his torso and ran into the forest, its strong legs sending vibrations through the hard ground long after it was removed from his sight. Groaning softly, Harvey sat up, hand immediately flying to his side as the flash of pain ran through him again, this time settling into a sharp, pulsing ache somewhere in the left side of his rib-cage. Trying to think past the most likely broken rib in his side, he concentrated on the howls and moans he heard, and started in that direction.

He was not following them long before they changed in pitch grotesquely, sounding less like an animal and more similar to a human being screaming in pain. The scientist in him filed this away in his brain, noting that the supposed change from human to wolf must be extremely excruciating; the caretaker in him wanted to get whoever it was some medical attention and fast. Walking half-blind in the dark, he kept moving over tree roots and fallen branches, making too much noise. The pulses were spreading now, through his abdomen and his neck, and he knew he must have broken not one but many ribs for a simple breath to hurt so badly. So concentrated was he on the pain that when he tripped and fell dangerously close to a lightly colored blob in his vision, he merely muttered some semblance of an apology and stumbled back to his feet, slowly trudging towards the werewolf, or so he thought.

[mistercygnusblack-blog]

Off to the Races || Cygnus and Harvey

[mistercygnusblack-blog]

  Had Cygnus caught Harvey’s reply to his statement about his father, he’d have found himself worrying over whether his company was likely to get him into even more trouble than he surely already would be for the stunt he was pulling; but seeing as how he hadn’t heard the man’s shouting over the roaring wind in his ears, all was well for the moment. No more did the fifteen year old care about idle chatter - he was entirely focused now on the movement of the chariot, on keeping his grasp on the reins and making sure they staying in the lead. Cygnus Black was not risking the wrath of his father for anything less than first place.

Laughing along with Harvey as they shot upwards, Cygnus split his attention between keeping the horses in check and peering out the back window to see where they stood among their competition. Any doubts he may have had as to whether entering the race had been worth the risk of punishment had disappeared long ago, and the fifteen year old’s mind was focused on the race with the same intensity he gave to quidditch matches. Age limit his arse, Cygnus Black was a champion and Merlin was this exciting. And — oi, alright, perhaps it was a bit more dangerous than he’d expected, seeing as there was a bloke plummeting to the ground. He was over a lake, though, so he was fine, yeah? And — well, that was part of the excitement, yeah? What fun was there — what glory would there be —without a good bit of risk, yeah?

Speaking of risk, Cygnus took advantage of the moment to steer the chariot downward, back into the think of things, and then sped them forward at his partner’s cue. Merlin he’d lucked out with Ridgebit, hadn’t he?

Or not. Because it was at that moment that the fifteen year old took a quick glance out the window on his partner’s side, only to see the Chariot coming straight at them. The moment he saw it Cygnus knew it was too late to do anything about it, but that didn’t stop him from calling out in alarm,

“OI, RIDGE - “ Cygnus was cut of as the other chariot rammed into the side of theirs. For a moment, everything stopped; it was as if he was suspended in mid-air, frozen in time. And then the next thing he knew he was tumbling out the side of the chariot. He cried out in panic, trying desperately but failing to grab hold of the side before he was thrown completely from the compartment. Just as the fifteen year old thought he was going to tumble to his untimely death, he managed to grasp a leather strap hanging out the window with one hand. The intense rush of relief he felt was short-lived, however, as his current predicament sunk in. There was something about dangling from a frayed leather strap Merlin knows how many feet above the ground with only one arm that made Cygnus wonder why he had never been afraid of heights before. Certainly he had always been aware of the fact that he may fall to his death, but flying about on a broomstick - even being in a flying chariot - were entirely different from hanging precariously on a thin piece of leather. Fortunately he was saved contemplating the fact much longer, because the next thing he knew Harvey was extending his hand to him. Immediately Cygnus clasped it with his free arm and, after much effort on both their parts, he made it back into the chariot.

When he was finally back inside, it took every last ounce of will power Cygnus possessed to remain standing; while he had not exactly seen his entire life flashing before his eyes, he had had a very long moment to contemplate his own mortality and as such was feeling entirely shell-shocked. For a few moments it was all he could do to stare straight ahead, catching his breath and feeling extremely glad that there was still breath for him to catch. It was not until Ridgebit’s hand was in front of his face that the fifteen year old returned to his senses with a blink and a snap of the head. Race. Right. Instantly Cygnus came back to himself, forcing a grin onto his face and shaking his head. “Foggy? Never! ‘M brilliant, mate! ….Let’s just not try that one again, yeah?” Scared? Please. Cygnus Black wasn’t scared of anything, and a near brush with death was no exception. He was fine, and if he happened to be a tiny bit pale or shaky that was just a coincidence - perhaps he was coming down with a cold.

Easily catching the strap that was passed to him - no, Cygnus had not fumbled with it, the chariot had just jolted, was all - Cygnus turned his attention back to the competition and nodded at Harvey’s instructions. With a sharp tug he urged the chariot upwards, away from the approaching competitor, and it was only as he felt himself getting back into the swing of things that he finally let out an exhilarated laugh. He was alright. They were still in the lead. And he was going to have an excellent story to tell when this was over. He wondered briefly what Vi’s face had looked like as he dangled precariously from the side of the chariot, but quickly dismissed the thought and turned his attention towards getting them to the fast approaching finish line. “Oi! We’re close, mate! What do you say we pick it up a notch, yeah?” Cygnus wasted no time in urging the horses faster, pushing the Chariot higher and higher. Through the wind in his ears he could hear their remaining competitors doing the same, gaining distance on them, but still he pushed the chariot further. They could do this. They had to do this.   

[harveyridgebit-blog]

Harvey could nothing but hang on as the chariot flew higher and higher into the sky. “Kid,” he yelled over the rush of wind in his ears. “What are you trying to do?”

What he was trying to do became unmistakably evident in the way the horses beat their wings at an even more furious pace, the noise threatening to overtake the rush of wind in his ears. Cygnus was trying to get them not only ahead of the competition, but above it. With a grin, Harvey snapped the reins and leaned back into the give as they gained even more altitude, their competitors below them like tiny spots. Their chariot was so close to the magic barrier his ears were ringing, and an uncomfortable pressure in the back of his skull was complaining about the proximity, but he found he cared not a whit; mainly, he was glad that fate had thought to be so kind as to deposit this jet-haired child into his chariot.

The fast-paced flight continued up and on, blurring together in his mind; swerve left to avoid this blathering idiot in the air, curb right to avoid yet another, a sharp descent that made his belly swoop and claw like a hippogriff landing, and an overwhelming sense of pride swept through him. For all of his cockiness, the youngest Black held up quite well in a race, and recovered from his harrowing experience better than many men twice his age. It said a lot about his character, and anyone who was that quick on his feet was good in Harvey’s books, no matter his silly blood title.

Chancing a look at the boy, he thought it’d be best not to mention the sudden feeling of camaraderie that had come over him. Black was very concentrated, brows drawn and mouth curved into a frown, etching lines into his cheeks. Trying to lighten him up a bit, Harvey nudged him.

“Come now, young Master Cygnus; this is a race, but nothing so cutthroat as we were led to believe; look at where we are in the standings," and indeed, as he spoke, the magically modified voice of the referee of the race barked out standings, sounding disbelieving as he yelled, 'Aaaaaand in first place we have the team of Mr. Harvey Ridgebit and mysterious co-captain! Who could this man be?' Harvey grinned at the shorter child beside him. "Listen, not to sound cocky,but we have this entire group of upstanding gentleman so confused right now they can’t tell their shirttails from their top hats. Look,” he said, jerking his thumb behind him at the man coming up furiously fast on their lower left flank, so close they could hear his harsh breaths and feel the beat of the horses’ wings on their backs. It was an impressive display, but for all his blustering, he could tell it was a useless endeavor; this man was going to burn out bright and fast, like a poorly wicked candle. “This goose thinks he has his plan figured out. What’d you say we change it up for him? Any ideas?”

Harvey could hardly help the shine of mischief in his eyes. Playing tricks was a favourite pastime of his, and from the look on Cygnus Black’s face, he was as well-versed in the art of trickery as Harvey was.

[tempestwithinacup]

Naja Fangs || Harvey & Hesper

[tempestwithinacup]

  Usually, she would have had smiled to him the moment she entered the store. Hesper was the kind of person who treated people kindly (at least the ones she thought was worthy of one of her scarcest demonstrations of politeness. Though she rarely used a harsh voice to others, she also valued the most some quantity of self-preservation. Not too many smiles, only enough not to give people wrong impressions.

But every time she entered Mr. Ridgebit’s store, something within her would change. Probably the fact that she felt home when surrounded by that much of science, pure science, and also, Harvey would always have something interesting to say about his studies. Hesper didn’t understand much about the incredible creatures that were dragons, just enough to understand a minimum and have a pleasant conversation with Harvey. But her mood was so terrible at that moment, not even a debate circle about lycanthropy would have it changed. “Mr. Ridgebit.” She looked at him with some uncommon sarcasm in her voice and a displeasing expression on her delicate face – which very likely made her look like one snobbish girl. But she couldn’t contain such disappointment when she thought about how terribly she was failing in her favorite research, and the fact that her most precious ingredient was not where it should be only bothered her even more.

“Please tell me, why I can’t find my Naja fangs?” She looked at the shelf briefly, soon facing the man again. “Don’t tell me you do not sell it anymore, that’d make my day even worse.” The mix of words being spoken too quickly and strong British accent would certainly make it impossible for a non-British to understand her. But Hesper really didn’t care about how she sounded; she just wanted to forget how frustrated she felt and how tired her brain was. But the girl hasn’t thought yet about how he would see her from that moment on. After all, they knew each other only by a few words exchanged, and in the case he was not the good person he seemed to be, Mr. Ridgebit would consider Hesper a spoiled little child, and her passion for that store would be ruined forever. With all this I mind, she tried to fix her bad manners.

“I mean…” She blinked two times, somewhat nervous. Hesper didn’t mean to sound so harsh (or did she?), but there was no turning back. “I’m… sorry.” Hesper inhale deeply, opening a discrete smile. “I really need the fangs.”         

[harveyridgebit-blog]

The sarcasm in her voice was evident, a tone he’d never once before encountered with this girl. It made his heart break a little, to see how society had trained even the best personalities to its twisted ways. Her voice made him reluctant to turn away from his makeshift defense, but he turned brusquely on his heel anyway, left eyebrow raised incredulously at the expression on her face; the young scientist he knew had apparently disappeared. In her place, a bratty young child stood, tapping her foot impatiently.

Settling into a defensive posture, he gestured for her to continue her question. She snapped at him and then, her accent changed from the crisp, posh one he’d become accustomed to hearing. Instead, a jumble of thick vowels and mixed-up words tumbled out of her mouth, and his hard stance softened the tiniest bit against his will. The poor girl was obviously ridiculously stressed out, to be speaking that way. And it was obvious in her eyes that she was having a rough day. Harvey decided not to push the issue of her rude attitude.

“Your Naja fangs, Ms. Starky?” he said, with a waggle of his eyebrows. “Excuse me, I did not know that you’d purchased the lot of them.” The girl had the grace to act chastised, but mainly looked bewildered, blinking rapidly and voice somewhat nervous. After her apology, he dropped the offended facade and laughed, a warm grin on his face as he walked around the counter to the front, motioning for her to follow him to the storeroom.

“Please excuse me madam, I was only joking. Your Naja fangs are right up here. I committed a foolish act and reorganized my shop in the middle of the week, so it was really my fault.” He motioned to thick jar about an arm's length in on an upper-level shelf and began to climb the ladder to grab them for her.  Looking down, he could see she was still quite nervous and off-kilter and it made him pity her a bit; which was probably why he said what he did next. “Mind you remember where these are, I won’t be able to grab them for you always. Now, is there anything else you need today? Another ingredient, or perhaps, an open ear or two?”  Making his way down the ladder, he listened carefully for the answer in her words, determined to ignore a childish attitude or angry tone.

[missboothby-blog]

June 1904 - To The Zoo (Gladys and Harvey)

[missboothby-blog]

  “This is madness. This is madness,” Gladys repeated to herself after removing her glove and trusting Harvey to manipulate her hand in order to hold the small dragon. Harvey’s hand felt warm and sure, and the roughness of his palm against the soft back of her hand reminded her of the feeling of brushing fingertips along unfinished wood. Such… potential.

They were so close, scandalously close. Gladys was certain she had never been so close to another person unless they were trying to knock her off a broom in a Quidditch match. His warmth made her feel as though she were standing next to a fire, and she could feel perspiration dampening her skin. He was quite a distraction — which was a good thing, because every time Gladys focused on her hand proper, she realized there was a reptile sitting in her palm and had to fight the urge to jerk it away.

The dragon simply would not sit still! She could feel its rough snout poking into her hand, its tail curling around her thumb. The tiny pinpricks of its claws were continually shifting, and her arm began to hurt from the tension of wondering what it was going to do. “H-it likes me?” she echoed as she watched Harvey confidently pet the dragon. Gladys did not share his confidence, her arm still trembling an sore from tension.

And then she felt the bite of teeth on the side of her palm, much like the teeth of a saw. Before Gladys could even think, she gave a startled yelp and tried to yank her hand away. Of course, the dragon was not only hold on with its tail to her thumb, but also had Harvey’s steadying hand petting it.

“It! It bi—! Harvey!” Gladys stammered, wanting desperately to get that dragon off of her hand before it took a finger, and then how would she make brooms? Panic was not an emotion with which Gladys was well acquainted, but at the moment they were becoming fast friends.

[harveyridgebit-blog]

Harvey could not help himself; he coughed out a surprised, raucous laugh when he saw Gladys’ panicked face. “Gladys,” he whispered, leaning over and talking directly into her ear so as to try and oppose the extremely solid tsunami wave of sound around them, “He’s playing. You cannot get tense, because he’ll feel it and then--”

Quickly, he grabbed the small dragon up as it reared its head up and away from her hand, preparing to take real bite out of it as it almost immediately tensed at Harvey's words and shook underneath of him. Holding the small creature carefully by the tail, Harvey laid the snapping and squirming young dragon on the ground, a fond smile still on his face as it lazily nipped at his fingertips. Shrugging a bit, he found he could not resist letting the hatchling gnaw softly on his pinkie.  “Tch," he tutted reprovingly. "he’s teething; he must be older than I first thought, for one so small. I would never have let you hold him if I had realized that,” he said whilst shaking his head to himself. It was due to some serious luck that nothing worse had happened to her.

When he looked back to his companion, however, he could not get a read on her. Her face was stone-stoic, and he could not tell if she was scared or angry. “Come love, let me see,” Harvey said to her, taking her small hand and turning it palm up. By focusing on her injury and not her face, maybe he could ignore the guilt that had started to roll in his stomach in ominous waves. He looked over the serrated indents in the meat of her palm critically, trying to ignore how soft her hand was, and how close they were. Again. If he did not know any better, he’d suggest this kept happening on purpose, almost; but by who’s design, he actually wasn’t sure. 

[tempestwithinacup]

Naja Fangs || Harvey & Hesper

It was noon, and as usual, Miss Starky would be locked up in her laboratory, studying incessantly, trying to understand the reasons she couldn’t make the new potion work. Hesper had been researching about moon cycles and lycanthropy for almost ten years now – as a flower that blossoms too soon, her fascination for the moon and werewolves has began really early, and since it happened, all her effort was placed on this marvelous creatures and what exactly was the contagious material (if the wolf’s saliva or the bite itself). But nothing, absolutely nothing was working for our young scientist, and consequently, her mood was not the best.

“This is not right!” Hesper shouted with all the air she had in her lunges, angrily throwing her note book at the bookcase. “Why on earth it has to be so difficult to research these things? It’s only a bloody medicine!” Still angry, the lady seated at the nearest chair. She leaned her face on her hands, taking a long breath. She could feel her face hot, and most probably it was red as pepper. Hesper could no longer feel that disappointed with her own work. But something made her go on. “And why do I have to love it so much?” Hesper whispered to herself, calmly rising and walking to the table in the middle of the room. Her eyes searched for two specific bottles – one of living worms, and the other of her beloved and rare Arabian Naja fangs. Discouragement only got worse when she saw the second bottle was empty. Experiments couldn’t continue if there was not a trace of the most important ingredient. Trying not to explode in anger again, she growled quietly as she dressed up to go to the Diagon Alley.

“Don’t make me wait for too long, I’m tired and my legs hurt.” Msr. Starky announced harshly, leaving her daughter in front of the broommaker. Right alongside of it, there was a bookstore where Mrs. Starky would always wait while her daughter went after her material. Hesper crossed the street, where her favorite store was. All the rarest ingredients were found there. Anxiously she entered the place, but instead of asking for the help of an attendant, she chose to look for the fangs herself – otherwise she ran the risk of treating the person sharply. Her disappointment and anger were filling her heart with such intensity, that she certainly would discount it on anyone who crossed her way.         

[harveyridgebit-blog]

-

Harvey started the day cleaning out the back room; a recent order of Jobberknoll feathers, essence of murtlap and the large litter of kneazles he’d taken in with hopes of someone adopting them meant he had to move many things around the entire shop to make room for everything. Rolling up his sleeves, he’d set to work rearranging his shelves and bookcases as well as some heavy goods, taking the opportunity of a slow day to reorganize the classification order around the shop; only using spells when necessary. There was something about a good hard days’ worth of physical labor, and by lunchtime, he was in a very content mood indeed.

Of course, a certain Hesper Starky inserted herself into the picture at this moment. Still cleaning up from the physical labor, he smiled to himself when he saw the scientist apprehensively but urgently looking through the shop the one day he had decided to change it all around; of course she would not be able to find whatever ingredient she needed by herself today.

He was used to business with the young scientist, a quick transaction every time she needed a new ingredient. She was his favorite type of customer: friendly, legitimate, and determined in her goal. So when he stepped up to say hello to her, he was not expecting the whirlwind of anger and discontent that turned to faced him. Her eyes were positively blazing, red spots high on her cheeks from excitement, and body language that screamed out every possible threat of bodily harm if she did not get what she asked for immediately.

Gulping, he took a physical step back from her, stepping behind the counter to add a physical barrier of protection between himself and the stormy woman in front of him. “Miss Starky,” he managed, and his voice was steady but consoling. “Can I help you find something today? You look like you are in even more of a rush than usual.” While speaking, he slid his gloves on and turned his back to her, looking at one of his many ingredient walls and busying himself with paperwork for his next dragon drop-off, surreptitiously shifting the papers away from her line of sight. “I am glad to help further your experiment in any way possible, if I can.”

[missboothby-blog]

June 1904 - To The Zoo (Gladys and Harvey)

[missboothby-blog]

  Gladys felt completely taken aback by the entire scene before her. Never had she seen Harvey interact with a dragon like this, and it took her off her guard. It was nigh uncomfortable, as though she were intruding on a personal moment in which she had no right to be present. And Harvey, the poor thing, was so upset. Gladys had to confess that seeing the little dragon in such a state was distressing—one was not used to seeing such creatures so small and vulnerable.

She nodded as Harvey spoke, leaning in ever so slightly to peer at the dragon’s horns when prompted, and jumping back with a yelp each time it snapped, certain she would see Harvey’s thumb in its mouth in short order. Harvey spoke with authority and expertise, which Gladys found quite appealing indeed, even if it was on a subject where she had little or no experience herself.

Still, she was taken aback when Harvey suddenly asked her if she wanted to hold the dragon. Her heart leapt into her throat, and her stomach suddenly felt queasy. “Me? Hold— it?” she parroted dumbly, staring at the miserable little creature as it cuddled into Harvey’s hand. “It won’t— it won’t bite me, will it?” she asked nervously.

Gladys Boothby—yes, the one and same who would fly hundreds of feet above the treetops in an untested broom without fear of falling, broken bones, scrapes, or cuts!—was afraid of a baby animal. Were it a kneazle, a rabbit or a mouse, her reaction would have been the same. Small creatures were unpredictable and had ways of reading a person. It was unnerving.

But Gladys held her ground. To shrink away would be to admit fear, and that Gladys also did not suffer well. Admittedly, a voice inwardly admonished her that one did not encounter dragons often unless one were Harvey Ridgebit, and so one must take advantage of the opportunities one encountered. She held his gaze for a long moment, peering determinedly into the mottled hazel before she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I will,” she said, forcing her voice to remain steady.

[harveyridgebit-blog]

Sudden warmth landed itself in Harvey’s chest, lodging in quite firmly and spreading all the way to his fingertips. Gladys was obviously uncomfortable, but she was trying. She was giving a dragon, the magnificent creature, a chance, without fear and without malice. And it meant more to him than she could ever realize.

“Wonderful!” he exclaimed, eyes still locked on hers. For the first time since he entered Scamander’s tent of horrors, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Taking her hand in his still-gloved right one, he cradled it under the dragon over his ungloved palm, feeling the warmth of her skin, the tell-tale fluttering of her muscles betraying her nervousness, the slight friction from the grit there that must have been from her kneeling down.

Taking great care, he let their hands stay in the air for a long moment, trying to let her get used to the weight of the dragon in her palm. However, the position he was kneeling in became uncomfortable, so he surreptitiously shifted closer, causing his hand to slide even further under hers. This time, he felt a flush rise into his cheeks, and he slowly dropped his hand as not to scare the hatchling.

“Er,” he said, clearing his throat. “See? Not so scary after all.” He looked at her face as the dragon settled itself into her hand, tiny tail twisting itself tight around her thumb and softly butting the meat of her palm with its fragile head. He could see her trembling, but she was handling it well; he could sense no internal screaming and no disgust, just a curious wonder radiating from her. “I think he likes you,” he declared with a smile as he ran a soft finger along the hatchling’s scales. As he spoke, the hatchling suddenly decided Gladys' hand was more fascinating than previously thought, and took an exploratory nibble at her hand. 

[missboothby-blog]

June 1904 - To The Zoo (Gladys and Harvey)

[missboothby-blog]

  Gladys looked around, unsure of what exactly was happening as they moved on from the hippogriff’s cage. She took Harvey’s arm, but then was almost immediately pulled away from him by the swelling, jostling crowd headed toward the tent.

“Step right up, step right up! This hour’s special show, only five sickles entry, thrill as Sir Scamander’s apprentices conduct a runespoor charming demonstration! This is no ordinary serpent, ladies and gentlemen!” A barker crowed, and Gladys stood on tiptoe to see if perhaps Harvey had made his way toward the tent. However, she could not make him out in the crowd, and thought him not quite so crude as to abandon her. She instead began to search around the cages in her immediate vicinity, finally noting his hunched over form in front of a small cage that was at the moment ignored by the herd of people heading toward the tent.

Only when she approached did she notice the tiny creature inside—was it a dragon? Had Sir Scamander actually acquired a dragon? Glancing around to see the guards occupied with funneling the crowd toward the tent, Gladys slipped beneath the rope surrounding the cage and walked over to Harvey, watching intently as he pushed his hand through the bars of the cage.

How had this man managed to keep all of his limbs intact for this many years? Gladys wondered, but she stepped closer, until suddenly his other hand gripped her skirts and she toppled down to her knees. “Harvey!” she protested, but silenced herself immediately at the sound of sheer agony in her companion’s voice. Such distress over another living thing—Gladys was scare certain she had ever felt anything comparable. Yet the pain etched across Harvey’s face was undeniable, even to Gladys.

It was difficult, and she did not know how to respond. What could one say to such things? How did one redress such injustice? Gladys gently placed her hand on Harvey’s shoulder, the only comfort she could think to give. She felt his arm jerk, and her eyes followed Harvey’s to the cage, only to see the small thing virtually curling up beneath Harvey’s warm hand. “What— what is it doing?” Gladys asked, baffled.

[harveyridgebit-blog]

_=_

Harvey let a small, dry sob loose from his mouth in response, one he was not aware of making, before encasing as much of the dragon as possible in his hand. “It’s sick,” he said, tearing the glove off of his other hand with his teeth and sticking it in with it to pick up the dragon. He then muttered a quick disabling charm for the protective ward on the cage. “It is quite sick, and very seriously so. It--,” he shook his head vigorously, looking into its eyes, taking in its size. “No, he. He may not make the next month unless he is rescued and given proper care. See how he is looking for warmth? When a cold-weather dragon gets sick it needs to be warmer than its normal temperature.”

The hatchling opened one bleary eye at him, nuzzling further into his hand; no where warm enough to mimic burrowing into its natural home of heated stones, but warmer than its surroundings. He held it lovingly, the way a parent holds a particularly frail child. “See his tiny horns, right here?” He brushed a thumb over one, making the dragon snap halfheartedly at him. Chuckling, he continued. “If he grows up, they will not be this dull bronze, but a vibrant gold, shinier than even the best lady’s jewelry and completely unbreakable to boot,” he said conspiratorially, fierce love and pride blazing in his chest.

Vaguely, he hoped Gladys was not completely terrified of him now. “I suppose you must think I’m a raving lunatic now,” he said with a sheepish laugh. “I do apologize; and for the record, I apologize for how much I have apologized in the past couple of hours.” Gently, he turned as much as he could with the dragon and looked her straight in the eyes. Her answer to the next question would determine… something he did not quite wish to name yet, but he needed to know it. “Miss Boothby, would you like to hold a dragon? I have to warn you,” he said, holding up a hand and putting a teasing tone in his voice. “It does involve breaking the rules. I know you can be uncomfortable with that sort of thing.” He grinned in response to the look on her face, but also carefully watched for signs of panic in her body language. Pitching his voice even softer, he added, “I will not force you, if you do not want it.”

[missboothby-blog]

June 1904 - To The Zoo (Gladys and Harvey)

[missboothby-blog]

  Gladys raised an eyebrow and glanced up into Harvey’s eyes. “How do you know how she feels?” she asked. She eyed the guard, who seemed more concerned with the group of teenagers throwing Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans at the hippogriff, the beans bouncing off her body as she turned to watch Gladys and Harvey

“We bow? To a creature?” Gladys asked, but obeyed, maintaining eye contact with the hippogriff. It seemed to be considering them, sizing them up, much to Gladys’ surprise. It was as though it were speaking some foreign language that only Harvey could translate. She felt Harvey’s hand in her lower back, firm and commanding, but gentle nonetheless — actually more respectful. She did not feel as if she were being forced into it. Did the hippogriff understand what was happening?

Gladys bowed, watching the hippogriff as it truly seemed to consider their entreaty. She glanced then at Harvey, who was earnest in his supplication to the creature, as fully as though it were a noblewoman or perhaps even the Queen. She straightened when Harvey did, then gasped in surprise when it actually bowed to them, and more so when he reached through to pet it. “Har—” she began, imagining the creature taking one of Harvey’s fingers off with its beak. Instead, though, it leaned in and allowed Harvey to pet it. It looked almost happy to do so. Its feathers looked so dull, and this close she could see there were giant clumps of them missing, showing pale, scabbed skin. It seemed that Scamander might have tried to charm those places with some kind of concealment charm, but up close, the spell was not particularly well done.

“Harvey, its wings!” Gladys gasped, watching it stretch as best it could again and noting that a large portion of both its wing feathers had been clipped, much like one would do to a bird. While Gladys was reluctant to say the least to touch the hippogriff, she was endeared, both by Harvey’s obvious adoration and by the poor creature’s dignified bearing. “Can anything be done for it?” She chewed her lip as she watched Harvey, and occasionally glanced at the guard as well.

[harveyridgebit-blog]

At her gasp, he glanced up sharply; too sharply, perhaps, for the hippogriff reared back from his touch. He examined her wings more closely and saw that the animal’s wings had been crudely clipped, as if the person who cut them barely knew how to handle a wand or scissors. Physically flinching, he lurched back from the cage, trying to control the contents of his stomach as Gladys asked another question.

“No,” he said, horrified. “No, we can’t without—without,” he could not finish the sentence, but glanced towards the guard, backing further from the cage and snagging her hand in his as he moved. “We must move on. Please, act as if you have just noticed something interesting far away and we will move.”

Quickly, he rushed down a corridor of the crowded tent, frowning when they hit standstill traffic. Gladys got jostled from him in the crowd for a second. Standing tall, he looked over heads and ducked through men, women, and children looking for her. “Miss Boothby?” he shouted, hoping he found her soon.

However, his search for her died immediately when he happened across a hatchling. A weeks-old Romanian Longhorn, the first he’d ever seen of its kind, its golden horns just beginning to break through its hide of tough deep-green scales. With a mournful sob, he fell to his knees in front of its gilded cage, hands grasping the bars desperately. Though young, its eyes and body showed a constant pain and sorrow. Looking furtively for guards, he reached towards it, laying a single hand on the floor of the cage for it to inspect.

This was hell, his own personal hell, and it came for him with a vengeance  it seemed. He felt a presence behind him after sometime at the cage but ignored it, focusing on letting the hatchling trust and accept him in its space. When the presence did not move, he guessed it was his companion, so reaching blindly behind his back; he grabbed her skirts and pulled her down next to him.

“Look here, do you see?” he said softly, letting people mill about and through them as he spoke. “This is what he does to treasures,” he spat, too disgusted and saddened to even look at her. Then, with a jerk of surprise, he felt something touch his fingertip. A miniature snout, followed by the prick of a blunt horn and a tremulous eyelid.

[missboothby-blog]

June 1904 - To The Zoo (Gladys and Harvey)

[missboothby-blog]

  “Harvey— was that— her cape—” Gladys began, then went silent when he said they must be subtle. “How many apprentices has he?” she asked, hushed. It seemed that there were guards everywhere, all of them adorned with feathers, claws, skins, or some other kind of fantastic adornment.

She let him hold her arm tighter, walking closer to Harvey as they moved toward the first cage. Her cheeks burned, though, when he called her ‘love.’ She ducked her head and smiled. It was a strange feeling, the warmth that coursed through her whenever Harvey said or did something like that. She let him lean in, so as to obscure his face from the guard, and looked at the hippogriff, who seemed to be examining them as much as they were looking at it.

“It actually looks intelligent,” Gladys marveled softly, her face mere inches from Harvey’s as they regarded the creature. It stretched its wings a bit, but was unable to fully extend them due to the size of the cage. “What must it think of this?”  She looked into the creature’s eyes, trying to see some semblance of comprehension. Could a beast such as this understand that it was in a cage, and what these people around it were doing? Was it frightened? Was it angry?

[harveyridgebit-blog]

He blinked slowly as she spoke, her breath rushing warm over his face despite the warm night; so busy looking was he that he heard only part of her speech. “Looks? Gladys, a hippogriff is one of the most intelligent and proudest creatures you will ever meet,” he said with a slight chuckle on his breath. It did not even occur to him to move a decent amount of space away as she turned to look at the creature; the magical torches casting her face is sharp angles and soft meetings.

“She is miserable, and angry,” he whispered, turning with her and guiding her as close to the cage as he dared. The young hippogriff was agitated, its eyes a stormy dark grey-purple and its multicolored bronzed feathers, though half-molten and matted, standing on end as it regarded them frigidly. “Very angry. A creature such as this one does not only require respect, it demands it.  Look, we must bow.” He placed a hand on her lower back and put slight pressure, her nervousness betrayed through her trembling muscles. “But maintain eye contact with or she will think we are weak, that we are prey.” 

Watching her interact with the creature so nervously made him laugh inwardly. In some ways, he mused, she was a human image of a hippogriff. She was so proud, so alone, and yet very open and even warm, if you treated her right. He wondered if that was always her nature, such as it was a hippogriff’s, or if she was forced into it by some event.  The hippogriff, after sometime eyeing them, bowed to them in full concession, and Harvey stood up, reaching to pet it, stroking the soft down on its head lovingly and watching it close its eyes in pleasure. “Look, now she sees we are her equals. We have earned her respect.”

[missboothby-blog]

June 1904 - To The Zoo (Gladys and Harvey)

[missboothby-blog]

  It was always fascinating to watch someone else go about their work, especially a work so specific and dangerous as Harvey’s. Gladys had to admit to herself that while creatures themselves were not so appealing, the danger and skill required to do what Harvey did was quite appealing. He was thorough, as well. Gladys very much did appreciate that.

“I am afraid I have not retained much, if anything, from the Care of Magical Creatures lessons I did attend,” Gladys confessed. “I hope that ignorance does not show through too much.” She donned her gloves once more and took Harvey’s arm so they could apparate to the clearing just outside of town where Sir Scamander had set up his menagerie.

Several large poles with long banners streaming from them proclaiming “Scamander’s Magical Menagerie” bordered the area, and Gladys could hear growls, shrieks, and roars among the laughter of children and shouts of adults. Gladys could see rows of cages leading up to a large tent on the other side of the area, no doubt where the advertised performances would take place. Gladys wondered what manner of magical beast Sir Scamander had manager to tame and what exactly he had trained it to do.

“It is far larger than I had even imagined,” Gladys remarked as they approached the ticket booth. A young girl wearing a copper-colored cape that looked like it was made of dragonhide sat inside ready to take money.

“Twenty sickles for the lady and gentleman, sir,” the girl said as she looked at Harvey with obvious recognition, although she made no comment. She glanced out the window of the booth briefly, before returning her attention to Gladys and Harvey. “Enjoy,” she then said, once she’d taken the money.

When they’d gotten away from the booth, Gladys leaned in toward Harvey. “Did you see the queer look she was giving?” she asked. Gladys hoped there wouldn’t be trouble—although it seemed to be everywhere of late.

[harveyridgebit-blog]

 -

Harvey managed a chuckle before he was swept up in Apparation, a swooping in his abdomen that stole his breath and compressed his skull to the point of discomfort. Wincing, he managed to hold onto her arm by grabbing her with his other hand for support as they settled in front of the menagerie.

It was a beautiful set-up, no doubt; just the right amount of enticing and mysterious yet bright and safe, the perfect equation to get as much money as possible from the hordes of people that poured inside. Though he could hear their shrieks of joy and disgust, the moans and roars of the animals completely overwhelmed them, making him want to follow the piteous sound. The gleaming silver cages were stark in the dark summer night, a gloating reminder of why he was here. Unconsciously, he clenched his hand tight around the hand Gladys had on his arm.

He nodded at her comment as they approached the ticket booth, the anger in his stomach growing again; growling for release at the sight of one of Scamander’s many apprentices taking tickets. This one had been on the job with the wizard, and had seen Harvey’s reaction to him. Uneasily, he paid for their tickets, ignoring the girl and her condescending smirk as much as he could. His stomach went cold as he realized her cloak was made of dragon-hide.

With shaking fingers, he handed Gladys her ticket. “That girl was giving us a ‘look’ because she knows who I am and what I love; she also knows that I dislike Scamander. I apologize, but we must be extremely careful not to be noticed now, love,” he said, tacking on an endearment for the curious ears around them and turning his head towards her, leaning in far too close for comfort to make the guard by the young, proud hippogriff’s cage stop staring at them.

[missboothby-blog]

June 1904 - To The Zoo (Gladys and Harvey)

[missboothby-blog]

  Gladys shook her head with dismay when Harvey brought up Vanity Witch once more. “That paper shall truly be the end of me,” she lamented, her body relaxing once more. Harvey’s outburst had surprised her more than left her feeling threatened. She felt out of her depth; living creatures tended to confuse her. They were temperamental, unpredictable, fragile. She much preferred wood and metal, sturdy and silent, predictable in their properties and possessing no emotion or feelings whatsoever. Nothing to hurt or offend.

She considered Harvey’s offer for a long moment. Again, animals tended to make Gladys nervous. Yet, she had found herself having to bite back an immediate ‘yes’ in order to make her consideration. She could scarce understand why she would do such a thing. Still, an opportunity to see such animals was quite rate unless one had the surname Ridgebit, so in the end, Gladys decided it best not to pass it up.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Gladys said with a small smile. “I am free tonight, unless you require greater notice.” In hindsight, such a proposition seemed quite bold, but Gladys always thought of these things a moment too late, when at the time they felt simply natural. When one was addressed as an equal, one tended to act as an equal.

[harveyridgebit-blog]

Harvey smiled in surprised delight when she said yes. The invitation was not planned, but he was planning on attending anyway to see what kind of help he could be to the animals that needed it. And, despite the anger still simmering in his blood, spending time with so honest and fascinating a witch always made him happy.

“Perfect! Let me lock up then, and we can be on our way,” he told her, talking and walking around his shop, cleaning and doing various other chores to distract him from the sudden warmth in his cheeks. The jars of pickled newt needed a Cooling Charm cast on them at least once a day, the Grindylow teeth had to be stored in a hexed and locked container, so on and so forth. Whilst sweeping the front room, he talked to her.

“Despite my earlier reaction, the menagerie is quite the fantastic collection,” Harvey said grudgingly, looking at her sideways. “Some of the animals there may not amuse you, but I think you will like it all the same.” He finished his work and put supplies away, then straightened his clothing and gloves and offered his hand to her. “I apologize for making you wait, Gladys, but we can leave now and make it to the opening tonight if you are ready.”

[missboothby-blog]

June 1904 - To The Zoo (Gladys and Harvey)

[missboothby-blog]

  “You seemed—preoccupied,” Gladys said, stammering to a halt when Harvey drew attention to the fact that Gladys had been reading Vanity Witch. Moreso, she had been reading it willingly.

“I— Er— It was— I saw it simply lying about and— Oh, blast it!” Gladys turned her face away from that beaming grin of Harvey’s, as bright as any flame she had ever lit in her stove.  How was she going to admit she’d read the cursed thing of her own free will? Thankfully, Sir Scamander made sure she did not have to.

Gladys’ face fell at Harvey’s reaction. She’d thought Scamander’s attraction some sort of harmless novelty, perhaps some sort of trickery involved, painting a parrot and calling it a phoenix or the like. “Do you know him, Harvey? How could one man accomplish such things? Graphorns are so dangerous— is that even legal? I wonder what other creatures he might have.” She looked into Harvey’s eyes. “It simply made me curious, because you’ve told me such stories, and I thought I might go see some of these creatures for myself—but only if it might truly be the real creature. I— I confess I had not given much thought to the comments about Scamander mistreating creatures. I had figured it was more Vanity Witch sensationalism. You seem to believe otherwise, though.”

[harveyridgebit-blog]

  “I have worked with the man before. Of course, it was long before he hatched this monstrosity of a plot, but I never liked him,” Harvey said quietly, putting forth an effort to calm himself down. He remembered working with that odious man, who had had a sickening bright gleam in his eyes and was so eager to get his hands on some Hebridean hatchlings it made his stomach turn just to remember him.

He looked at Gladys and saw how uncomfortable she was; how he had made her feel by forcing his opinion. Her back was ramrod straight, shoulders painted with taut lines of tension beneath her dress, and her eyes seemed genuinely sorry. Bowing his head a bit to meet her eyes and hold them, he said, “Ms. Boothby, please forgive me once more, for making you distressed in this way. I was just,” Just doing what, he thought, letting my anger get the best of me again? “What I mean to say is, I get carried away sometimes.”

The questions poured out of her mouth so fast Harvey could barely keep up, but he attempted to answer, a small smile on his face. She was quite charming when flustered. “Well, if the Vanity Witch says so…” he trailed off and waggled his eyebrows, unable to resist teasing her a bit more. “Actually, Scamander probably does have most of those creatures in that awful menagerie of his, but I can assure you they are not taken care of properly at all. Wild creatures are wild for a reason, Gladys, and he has always failed to understand that. However, I am extremely glad my stories have had such an impact on you, and I would be honoured to accompany you to the event, if you need an escort.”

[missboothby-blog]

June 1904 - To The Zoo (Gladys and Harvey)

[missboothby-blog]

  Gladys had moved on to examining what looked like some kind of pelt, trying to figure out what sort of animal would have a coat with that sort of strange pattern while listening to Harvey banging about in back. Before she could even ask what he was doing, she felt something heavy crash into her, and she was toppling over toward the glass display case.

“What the— Ah!” Gladys yelped, clutching at the nearest firm object to save herself, the paper fluttering to the ground as she did.

It so happened that the object was Harvey’s upper arms.

“Oh— Harvey! I beg your pardon!” she gasped. “Have I called at an inconvenient time?” He certainly seemed in a hurry—perhaps he was rushing to close in order to depart on some new adventure. Or perhaps he was preparing to meet someone. “I had read something of interest in Vanity Witch and I— oh—” She trailed off, realizing she was still holding on to Harvey’s arms. They felt quite—firm—beneath his shirtsleeves.

“Oh, where did it go?” Gladys quickly turned, chewing her lower lip as she glanced around for the paper. “Pardon me,” she murmured, turning away and crouching down to gather scattered pages from the floor. She shuffled the pages until she found the back page, and the article about Sir Regis Scamander’s Magical Menagerie. “This,” she said, showing it to Harvey. “I read it and was curious. Do you suppose Sir Scamander could truly have a Graphorn in his menagerie?”

[harveyridgebit-blog]

“An inconvenient time?” He repeated, still confused, as her familiar scent of wood oil and something feminine he could never exactly place settled into his air, making him inhale deeply. She was light in his arms, her lack of weight making him grip tighter. “No, no --not at all.” Irrationally, the thought that her wide eyed flustering was endearing ran through his mind. Her grip was strong on his forearms, and it made him grin. He had always like that about her; once she got her grip on something, it was hard to make her let go.

“I do think I should be begging your pardon, madam,” Harvey murmured whilst straightening up, setting her down as she blustered around for her papers. Crouching to his knees, he helped pick some of them up, and handed them to her with a sheepish smile. “As well as offer my sincerest apologies for knocking your papers about.”

“Excuse me, but did you just say you read something of interest in-- Vanity Witch, of all places?” he asked, laughter in his voice and a grin on his face. She then mentioned Scamander and his mood turned black again. “Blasted demon, I’d expect no less of him,” Harvey bit out darkly, clenching his fist. “He lives to fit wild-spirited animals such as a Graphorn into a cage. God above! It’s-- pleasurable, for him,” he spat out in a low snarl. “Why do you ask?”