O brave new world ...
Shakespeare’s kitchen was a mess. It was the happy chaos that always came at the end of the lunch rush. Even though an hour ago she’d been slightly overwhelmed with the amount of orders coming in, now she was able to sit back and appreciate just how well they’d done.
“Last table’s about to clear out, love.”
Jules turned to smile at Robbie, one of the two employees she’d managed to find and keep on despite the early hours and minimal pay. The fact that there’d been anyone willing to stay after their first hectic day was something Jules was extremely grateful for.
“Perfect. Thanks Robs.”
“I’ll make sure the till is balanced and take it to the bank when I leave. And Jules? You’ve got-”
“Flour on me? I’m sure I do, but there’ll be a lot more on me after I’d done cleaning. No use trying to get it off now.”
“Flawless logic,” Robbie responded with a large smile before he ducked out of sight. Turning to the piles of batter-filled bowls and dirty pans that littered the counters, Jules let out a tired but content sigh. She knew she’d underestimated how hard it would be to open and run a small business, but as exhausted and stretched as the beginning had seemed, she wouldn’t trade it for anything.
A half-hour later, the pots and pans were soaking in the sink and what could be salvaged for the next day had been put back in the icebox. Jules had been right in not worrying about the flour covering her clothes; it had been joined by plenty more, as well as a few other substances that had coated the counters. Making breakfast had always been a messy affair, but doing it for dozens of people instead of just her father and herself was much dirtier.
“Are you fine if I go? I have that thing I told you about last week. I cleaned all the tables off and Robbie already took the register to the bank. Please?”
Spent, and a little sweaty, Jules gave her other employee, Abby, a small smile as she ran the back of her arm across her forehead. “I remember. Everything looks good up front?”
“In perfect order, I promise.”
“Then go, go,” Jules said with a laugh, “I can’t imagine the eyes you’d give me if I said I needed you for something. Make sure to lock the door after you when you leave.”
Happily laying her apron down on the counter, Abby grabbed her bag with a grateful smile before darting in to press her lips to Jules’ cheek. “You’re the best. See you tomorrow!”
Shaking her head at her friend’s antics as the bell above the front door signaled Abby’s quick exit, Jules turned back to the task at hand. It didn’t take her long to finish the dishes and put them in their correct places, but the counters took a little more work. Depending on how long the batter sat, it could be a right pain trying to get it off the wood.
Jules wasn’t sure how long she’d been scrubbing when she heard the bell above the door ring as someone entered the front of the cafe. Sighing, not surprised that Abby had forgotten to lock the door in her rush to get out, she dropped the sponge on the counter and started toward the front.
She froze at the first sound of something being thrown to the ground and shattering. A dark laughter followed the noise. A content laugh. Jules’ mind had immediately gone to the idea that someone had stumbled into the cafe drunk - it had happened before, especially after a football match - but that laugh not the noise someone made after accidentally knocking something over. It was the satisfied laugh of someone who was glad they’d broken something.
Eyes widening, Jules began looking around her for some kind of weapon. Southern London wasn’t the safest neighborhood, but it had been quite a few months since something in the area had been vandalized. Wrapping her fingers around the handle of a heavy skillet, she pressed her back to the wall.
She flinched when something else crashed to the ground, gripping the metal in her hands tighter. If this was someone just wanting to mess up the room, maybe she’d be able to scare them off. If not... Jules wasn’t sure what she’d do.
“Hey!” she screamed, amazed that her voice had only wavered slightly. “If you leave right now, maybe you’ll beat the police before they get here!”
The sounds of things being destroyed stopped but was replaced with a man’s deep, gravely voice. “I’m not going anywhere, girlie. Maybe if you come out I’ll make this quick.”
The heart in her chest beating frantically, Jules’ mind raced. The phone was too far away to grab now, and even if she made a run for it, it was possible he’d hear and come barging in.
“I- I have a weapon,” she threatened, “and I’m not afraid to use it!”
She heard the man’s footsteps approach even as his words filtered to her panicked brain. “Filthy muggle-”
Everything slowed down.
As she realized what was happening, and who was attacking her, a look of pure shock ruled her features. The shock was replaced by fear as the door to her right swung open and the tip of a wand passed the threshold of the kitchen. A wizard. A wizard was attacking her. Before her brain could fully comprehend, her body had reacted. The skillet made a dull ‘thud’ noise as it connected with the side of the man’s head, whatever spell he’d been saying flying from the tip of his wand. It crashed against the opposite wall in a blast of blue light, knocking a frame from the plaster and leaving a gaping hole.
Jules stood there, arms shaking as she held the skillet above her head, looking down at the man for what seemed like an eternity. She didn’t recognize him, but for some reason that only made it more frightening. Someone she didn’t know was attacking her. The adrenaline was still coursing through her body when she began to worry about how hard she’d hit the man. She hadn’t meant to hurt him, only prevent his attack, but she was frozen as she waited to se the rise and fall of his chest and the assurance that she hadn’t killed him.
Sagging in relief as he took a breath, Jules caught herself on the counter as the skillet crashed heavily to the floor. The idea that a wizard - a wizard - would be attacking Shakespeare’s hadn’t even entered her mind. She didn’t often see witches or wizards in the area. At least, they didn’t readily announce themselves as witches and wizards. To the best of her knowledge, most of her patrons were muggle, just like the neighborhood.
After her heart rate returned to a manageable level, and the shock of the situation began to dissipate, Jules was left with the problem at hand. A man was unconscious on her floor. He had just tried to attack her. He had done damage to her place of business. This man was a wizard. This meant that contacting the regular police was out of the question. This was a job for the Ministry and the Magical Law Enforcement.
Jules had never had any reason to encounter the MLE. She’d never even been to the Ministry. As she rarely had reasons to contact people in the wizarding world since leaving school, the fireplace at Shakespeare’s didn’t have a fireplace. Well, it had a fireplace, but it was used for cooking and was not hooked up to the floo network. She didn’t own an owl, as it would have been seen as a little strange to have an owl flying around Southern London throughout the day.
All this lead to the fact that her only choice was to apparate herself and the man to the Ministry. They’d know what to do and how to proceed. Pulling herself from the floor, she had a moment of panic as she tried to remember if she even had her wand on her. She didn’t use magic very often. The idea, even after seven years at Hogwarts, was still a bit - well - magical. After spending over ten years being almost exclusively muggle, it was hard for her brain to immediately think in terms of magic.
Another sigh of relief crossed her lips as she pulled her wand from the side pocket of her bag. It had been thrown in with a welly and aspirin; things she’d only need in case of an emergency. Gripping it tightly, she turned back to the man on the floor. She’d mastered apparating when she’d come of age, but hadn’t done it in a long time. She wasn’t worried about the mechanics, but what did worry her was transporting this man without harming him anymore than she already had, and making sure he didn’t wake up during their journey.
Swallowing, her back straightening a bit now that her path had been made clear, Jules pointed her wand at the man. “Stupefy.” The red light hit the man’s chest but did nothing else of note. He was already passed out and not moving. Just to be sure he wouldn’t make a fuss on the way to the Ministry, she conjured ropes around his ankles, hands and chest. The last thing she wanted to do was splinch him if he woke up mid-apparation.
Satisfied that he wouldn’t be going anywhere, she checked on the front of the shop. He hadn’t had enough time to do too much damage before she’d called out to him, but several frames of her photography had been blasted off the walls. The glass gleamed on the floor where the sunlight hit it, the early autumn trees pushing shadows across the floor as they moved in the slight breeze. While everything looked peaceful now, a shudder ran through Jules’ body as she thought about what might have happened if she’d been caught unaware.
Using her wand - the wood still feeling a bit foreign in her hand after all this time - she cleaned the glass and torn pieces of photos from the floor and made sure the door was locked. Returning to the kitchen, she took a deep breath as she knelt beside the prone man.
“I’m sorry about that,” she said with a wince as she gazed at the red mark that was blossoming quite quickly into a bruise on the side of his face, “but I’m almost positive you’d have done worse to me, so I’m not that sorry.” Jules’ hand pressed tightly around his upper arm before she flicked her wand and apparated.
The sounds of the Ministry were immediately deafening to her ears as she and the man arrived. A loud alarm was sounding. The only place she knew to apparate directly into the Ministry - at least, the only place she could remember from her apparation training - was the emergency area of the MLE. As that had been her ultimate end point, it had seemed the logical place.
As people began running towards her with their wands drawn, she began to doubt that logic. After giving a short explanation, the man had been taken away and her wand had been confiscated with the assured promise that it would be given back to her as soon as everything was cleared and verified. When she’d said they could keep it as long as they needed, they’d given her an odd look.
Jules’ eyes trailed over the features of the office she’d been lead to. It looked practically lived in, as if the person who owned it spent most, if not all, of their time in it. Dedication. It was something she understood greatly.
Euan took a moment to study the blond in front of him. The confiscated wand was snug against his in the holster he wore on his arm, but she gave no indication of missing what should have been a familiar weight. She looked positively unruffled, or she was a better actress than he was giving her credit for. Curious.
“So, Ms. Dorny,” he looked at the notes he’d taken as she gave her initial statement, “you were alone in your restaurant, Shakespeare’s, locking up, when you heard someone breaking in.” The dictation quill sped merrily along on the piece of parchment by his elbow. “He already had his wand drawn when you hit him with a cast iron skillet,” his mouth twitched upward, his Gran would appreciate that, “knocking him out. Once you verified he was unconscious you apparated to the Ministry.”
“Well, I was cleaning. The door was supposed to be locked by one of my employees. I don’t think it’d really matter, now that I know he was a wizard. I’m sure he could have gotten in if he really wanted to.” Jules supposed it all seemed rather stupid now. She just hadn’t thought it necessary to guard herself against magical persons. An oversight on her part, but she’d been out of the world for so long that it hadn’t even crossed her mind.
She nodded, sitting forward in her chair to continue. “The skillet was the closest thing to me, and I don’t have the fire hooked up to the floo so I figured apparation would be the best choice. Is he going to be alright? I must have hit him pretty hard.”
“The restaurant is a predominantly muggle neighborhood, correct?” A wizard was attacking what he likely thought to be a muggle business. It didn’t take too much imagination to know exactly how this looked. And she was worried about the bastard’s health. “We’ll have someone look at him shortly, if he hasn’t been seen already.”
“As far as I know, it’s mostly muggle. I haven’t really checked or anything like that. There’s not a lot of owls flying around, at least.” Jules knew she wasn’t really being helpful, but she’d never had much contact with police, muggle or otherwise. “Do you think you’ll need to do anything at the restaurant? He didn’t break much. Just a few picture frames.”
“That depends. Did he use magical or physical force? Do you remember him saying any spells?” That was not to say that the man hadn’t used non-verbal magic, but the more detail Ms. Dorny could provide, the better. Euan gave her a smile, hoping to be encouraging. “Someone from the MLE will likely be out, just in case.”
Jules thought about what she’d heard the man do when he’d begun breaking things. “He was just laughing, mostly. When I told him I had a weapon and that he should leave, he said...” she trailed off. Memory had never really been her strongest suit. Except when it came to recipes. “He told me he’d make it quick if I came out. And then he called me a filthy muggle.”
Her different colored eyes focused on Euan. “Do you think that’s why he attacked? I assumed at first he’d just been coming in for money, which obviously doesn’t make sense now. But he was attacking because he thought I was a muggle? Has that been happening a lot lately?” She’d never really enjoyed reading, but she was suddenly berating herself for not getting a subscription to a wizard paper, at least.
Euan looked down at his hands before withdrawing his wand to stop the dictation quill. “More than anyone would like.” Of course, once was more than anyone would like, but there was no denying that their world had become darker over the last few years. His eyes drifted over to the spot on his desk where a picture of his parents ought to be. Instead his two dogs played on the beach not far from his house.
“Ya do na spend much time in th’ wizardin’ world, do ya?” he asked, slipping into his more natural brogue now that the quill was no longer dictating and easily confused by accents. A flick of his wrist and her wand was in his hand, which he placed in front of the blonde. She was not a threat. “My suggestion would be t’ start farmiliarizin’ yerself with what is goin’ on. Bein’ informed is th’ first step t’ bein’ safe.”
“I haven’t really been here,” she answered with a wave of her hand to the area around her, “for around ten years. It was hard to come here after living normally for most of my life.” Jules’ cheeks flushed with color. “Not that you’re not normal,” she rushed to say, “just this was all new. And then school came and went, and my passions didn’t really fit in this world, so I went back to the one I’d known before.”
She sat back in the chair, hand brushing blonde hair behind an ear. The chaos of the morning rush coupled with what had transpired with the man’s attack was finally catching up with her and she felt a sudden bout of tiredness. “It’s just been a while since I’ve had to think like a witch. I suppose I’ll have to look into putting securities on the restaurant. Something more than just a lock on the front and back doors.”
Euan nodded. He didn’t quite understand how someone could not fit within the magical world, but then again, he had grown up with magic. He had never given it much thought how a muggleborn must have felt being catapulted into a whole new society. It must have been difficult. “Wards would be a good place t’ start. Something t’ keep out intruders and trespassers. Not tha’ I would assume tha’ ya wish t’ bar anyone from ya establishment, but ya can ban anyone who has caused ya trouble in th’ past. If ya find yaself in tha’ sor’ of situation.”
“Wards,” Jules repeated. She had no idea where to start looking for someone to help with that, but she knew if she did a little digging - or opened up a wizarding paper - she’d be able to find something. “I’m hoping something like this doesn’t happen again, but it’ll be nice to have it taken care of. Just in case. And if you’re saying this is happening other places...”
She remembered the stories of people in the area, telling how they’d come to find their places of business completely ransacked or destroyed. A man in Cambridge had had his store burnt to the ground. Everyone had assumed it was random teenage violence. It wasn’t unheard of in the area. Now, though, Jules was beginning to wonder how much of the damage hadn’t really been teenagers at all.
Sighing, she turned a tired but bright smile toward Euan. “Thank you very much. Really. I’ll definitely look into getting wards and being more prepared.”
Several maxims ran through his mind, but non seemed quite appropriate for the situation. “Thank ya for yar time, Ms. Dorny. I am glad tha’ nobody else was in the restaurant and tha’ damage was minimal.” He leaned over to look at the statement the quill had written. Quickly glancing it over, he deemed it accurate enough for the woman to sign. “if you could please sign at the bottom and date, stating that these are the evens which occurred earlier today?” He handed her a quill.
Jules scanned the page before signing her name. Setting his quill down, she grabbed her bag and stood. “You’ll let me know if you need anything else?” At his nod, she smiled and started toward the door. It was only when her hand had wrapped around the doorknob that she remembered her wand was still sitting on his desk.
Turning around, embarrassment coloring her cheeks for the second time that day, she grabbed the piece of wood. “I should probably start keeping better tabs on this,” she remarked, stowing it in her bag. Shaking her head at herself, making a mental list of things to do - clean Shakespeare’s before the next morning, subscribe to wizarding paper, look into warding - she let the door close behind her.
Summary: Jules’ cafe, Shakespeare’s is attacked. She goes to the MLE and gives her statement to Euan.
“Last table’s about to clear out, love.”
Jules turned to smile at Robbie, one of the two employees she’d managed to find and keep on despite the early hours and minimal pay. The fact that there’d been anyone willing to stay after their first hectic day was something Jules was extremely grateful for.
“Perfect. Thanks Robs.”
“I’ll make sure the till is balanced and take it to the bank when I leave. And Jules? You’ve got-”
“Flour on me? I’m sure I do, but there’ll be a lot more on me after I’d done cleaning. No use trying to get it off now.”
“Flawless logic,” Robbie responded with a large smile before he ducked out of sight. Turning to the piles of batter-filled bowls and dirty pans that littered the counters, Jules let out a tired but content sigh. She knew she’d underestimated how hard it would be to open and run a small business, but as exhausted and stretched as the beginning had seemed, she wouldn’t trade it for anything.
A half-hour later, the pots and pans were soaking in the sink and what could be salvaged for the next day had been put back in the icebox. Jules had been right in not worrying about the flour covering her clothes; it had been joined by plenty more, as well as a few other substances that had coated the counters. Making breakfast had always been a messy affair, but doing it for dozens of people instead of just her father and herself was much dirtier.
“Are you fine if I go? I have that thing I told you about last week. I cleaned all the tables off and Robbie already took the register to the bank. Please?”
Spent, and a little sweaty, Jules gave her other employee, Abby, a small smile as she ran the back of her arm across her forehead. “I remember. Everything looks good up front?”
“In perfect order, I promise.”
“Then go, go,” Jules said with a laugh, “I can’t imagine the eyes you’d give me if I said I needed you for something. Make sure to lock the door after you when you leave.”
Happily laying her apron down on the counter, Abby grabbed her bag with a grateful smile before darting in to press her lips to Jules’ cheek. “You’re the best. See you tomorrow!”
Shaking her head at her friend’s antics as the bell above the front door signaled Abby’s quick exit, Jules turned back to the task at hand. It didn’t take her long to finish the dishes and put them in their correct places, but the counters took a little more work. Depending on how long the batter sat, it could be a right pain trying to get it off the wood.
Jules wasn’t sure how long she’d been scrubbing when she heard the bell above the door ring as someone entered the front of the cafe. Sighing, not surprised that Abby had forgotten to lock the door in her rush to get out, she dropped the sponge on the counter and started toward the front.
She froze at the first sound of something being thrown to the ground and shattering. A dark laughter followed the noise. A content laugh. Jules’ mind had immediately gone to the idea that someone had stumbled into the cafe drunk - it had happened before, especially after a football match - but that laugh not the noise someone made after accidentally knocking something over. It was the satisfied laugh of someone who was glad they’d broken something.
Eyes widening, Jules began looking around her for some kind of weapon. Southern London wasn’t the safest neighborhood, but it had been quite a few months since something in the area had been vandalized. Wrapping her fingers around the handle of a heavy skillet, she pressed her back to the wall.
She flinched when something else crashed to the ground, gripping the metal in her hands tighter. If this was someone just wanting to mess up the room, maybe she’d be able to scare them off. If not... Jules wasn’t sure what she’d do.
“Hey!” she screamed, amazed that her voice had only wavered slightly. “If you leave right now, maybe you’ll beat the police before they get here!”
The sounds of things being destroyed stopped but was replaced with a man’s deep, gravely voice. “I’m not going anywhere, girlie. Maybe if you come out I’ll make this quick.”
The heart in her chest beating frantically, Jules’ mind raced. The phone was too far away to grab now, and even if she made a run for it, it was possible he’d hear and come barging in.
“I- I have a weapon,” she threatened, “and I’m not afraid to use it!”
She heard the man’s footsteps approach even as his words filtered to her panicked brain. “Filthy muggle-”
Everything slowed down.
As she realized what was happening, and who was attacking her, a look of pure shock ruled her features. The shock was replaced by fear as the door to her right swung open and the tip of a wand passed the threshold of the kitchen. A wizard. A wizard was attacking her. Before her brain could fully comprehend, her body had reacted. The skillet made a dull ‘thud’ noise as it connected with the side of the man’s head, whatever spell he’d been saying flying from the tip of his wand. It crashed against the opposite wall in a blast of blue light, knocking a frame from the plaster and leaving a gaping hole.
Jules stood there, arms shaking as she held the skillet above her head, looking down at the man for what seemed like an eternity. She didn’t recognize him, but for some reason that only made it more frightening. Someone she didn’t know was attacking her. The adrenaline was still coursing through her body when she began to worry about how hard she’d hit the man. She hadn’t meant to hurt him, only prevent his attack, but she was frozen as she waited to se the rise and fall of his chest and the assurance that she hadn’t killed him.
Sagging in relief as he took a breath, Jules caught herself on the counter as the skillet crashed heavily to the floor. The idea that a wizard - a wizard - would be attacking Shakespeare’s hadn’t even entered her mind. She didn’t often see witches or wizards in the area. At least, they didn’t readily announce themselves as witches and wizards. To the best of her knowledge, most of her patrons were muggle, just like the neighborhood.
After her heart rate returned to a manageable level, and the shock of the situation began to dissipate, Jules was left with the problem at hand. A man was unconscious on her floor. He had just tried to attack her. He had done damage to her place of business. This man was a wizard. This meant that contacting the regular police was out of the question. This was a job for the Ministry and the Magical Law Enforcement.
Jules had never had any reason to encounter the MLE. She’d never even been to the Ministry. As she rarely had reasons to contact people in the wizarding world since leaving school, the fireplace at Shakespeare’s didn’t have a fireplace. Well, it had a fireplace, but it was used for cooking and was not hooked up to the floo network. She didn’t own an owl, as it would have been seen as a little strange to have an owl flying around Southern London throughout the day.
All this lead to the fact that her only choice was to apparate herself and the man to the Ministry. They’d know what to do and how to proceed. Pulling herself from the floor, she had a moment of panic as she tried to remember if she even had her wand on her. She didn’t use magic very often. The idea, even after seven years at Hogwarts, was still a bit - well - magical. After spending over ten years being almost exclusively muggle, it was hard for her brain to immediately think in terms of magic.
Another sigh of relief crossed her lips as she pulled her wand from the side pocket of her bag. It had been thrown in with a welly and aspirin; things she’d only need in case of an emergency. Gripping it tightly, she turned back to the man on the floor. She’d mastered apparating when she’d come of age, but hadn’t done it in a long time. She wasn’t worried about the mechanics, but what did worry her was transporting this man without harming him anymore than she already had, and making sure he didn’t wake up during their journey.
Swallowing, her back straightening a bit now that her path had been made clear, Jules pointed her wand at the man. “Stupefy.” The red light hit the man’s chest but did nothing else of note. He was already passed out and not moving. Just to be sure he wouldn’t make a fuss on the way to the Ministry, she conjured ropes around his ankles, hands and chest. The last thing she wanted to do was splinch him if he woke up mid-apparation.
Satisfied that he wouldn’t be going anywhere, she checked on the front of the shop. He hadn’t had enough time to do too much damage before she’d called out to him, but several frames of her photography had been blasted off the walls. The glass gleamed on the floor where the sunlight hit it, the early autumn trees pushing shadows across the floor as they moved in the slight breeze. While everything looked peaceful now, a shudder ran through Jules’ body as she thought about what might have happened if she’d been caught unaware.
Using her wand - the wood still feeling a bit foreign in her hand after all this time - she cleaned the glass and torn pieces of photos from the floor and made sure the door was locked. Returning to the kitchen, she took a deep breath as she knelt beside the prone man.
“I’m sorry about that,” she said with a wince as she gazed at the red mark that was blossoming quite quickly into a bruise on the side of his face, “but I’m almost positive you’d have done worse to me, so I’m not that sorry.” Jules’ hand pressed tightly around his upper arm before she flicked her wand and apparated.
The sounds of the Ministry were immediately deafening to her ears as she and the man arrived. A loud alarm was sounding. The only place she knew to apparate directly into the Ministry - at least, the only place she could remember from her apparation training - was the emergency area of the MLE. As that had been her ultimate end point, it had seemed the logical place.
As people began running towards her with their wands drawn, she began to doubt that logic. After giving a short explanation, the man had been taken away and her wand had been confiscated with the assured promise that it would be given back to her as soon as everything was cleared and verified. When she’d said they could keep it as long as they needed, they’d given her an odd look.
Jules’ eyes trailed over the features of the office she’d been lead to. It looked practically lived in, as if the person who owned it spent most, if not all, of their time in it. Dedication. It was something she understood greatly.
Euan took a moment to study the blond in front of him. The confiscated wand was snug against his in the holster he wore on his arm, but she gave no indication of missing what should have been a familiar weight. She looked positively unruffled, or she was a better actress than he was giving her credit for. Curious.
“So, Ms. Dorny,” he looked at the notes he’d taken as she gave her initial statement, “you were alone in your restaurant, Shakespeare’s, locking up, when you heard someone breaking in.” The dictation quill sped merrily along on the piece of parchment by his elbow. “He already had his wand drawn when you hit him with a cast iron skillet,” his mouth twitched upward, his Gran would appreciate that, “knocking him out. Once you verified he was unconscious you apparated to the Ministry.”
“Well, I was cleaning. The door was supposed to be locked by one of my employees. I don’t think it’d really matter, now that I know he was a wizard. I’m sure he could have gotten in if he really wanted to.” Jules supposed it all seemed rather stupid now. She just hadn’t thought it necessary to guard herself against magical persons. An oversight on her part, but she’d been out of the world for so long that it hadn’t even crossed her mind.
She nodded, sitting forward in her chair to continue. “The skillet was the closest thing to me, and I don’t have the fire hooked up to the floo so I figured apparation would be the best choice. Is he going to be alright? I must have hit him pretty hard.”
“The restaurant is a predominantly muggle neighborhood, correct?” A wizard was attacking what he likely thought to be a muggle business. It didn’t take too much imagination to know exactly how this looked. And she was worried about the bastard’s health. “We’ll have someone look at him shortly, if he hasn’t been seen already.”
“As far as I know, it’s mostly muggle. I haven’t really checked or anything like that. There’s not a lot of owls flying around, at least.” Jules knew she wasn’t really being helpful, but she’d never had much contact with police, muggle or otherwise. “Do you think you’ll need to do anything at the restaurant? He didn’t break much. Just a few picture frames.”
“That depends. Did he use magical or physical force? Do you remember him saying any spells?” That was not to say that the man hadn’t used non-verbal magic, but the more detail Ms. Dorny could provide, the better. Euan gave her a smile, hoping to be encouraging. “Someone from the MLE will likely be out, just in case.”
Jules thought about what she’d heard the man do when he’d begun breaking things. “He was just laughing, mostly. When I told him I had a weapon and that he should leave, he said...” she trailed off. Memory had never really been her strongest suit. Except when it came to recipes. “He told me he’d make it quick if I came out. And then he called me a filthy muggle.”
Her different colored eyes focused on Euan. “Do you think that’s why he attacked? I assumed at first he’d just been coming in for money, which obviously doesn’t make sense now. But he was attacking because he thought I was a muggle? Has that been happening a lot lately?” She’d never really enjoyed reading, but she was suddenly berating herself for not getting a subscription to a wizard paper, at least.
Euan looked down at his hands before withdrawing his wand to stop the dictation quill. “More than anyone would like.” Of course, once was more than anyone would like, but there was no denying that their world had become darker over the last few years. His eyes drifted over to the spot on his desk where a picture of his parents ought to be. Instead his two dogs played on the beach not far from his house.
“Ya do na spend much time in th’ wizardin’ world, do ya?” he asked, slipping into his more natural brogue now that the quill was no longer dictating and easily confused by accents. A flick of his wrist and her wand was in his hand, which he placed in front of the blonde. She was not a threat. “My suggestion would be t’ start farmiliarizin’ yerself with what is goin’ on. Bein’ informed is th’ first step t’ bein’ safe.”
“I haven’t really been here,” she answered with a wave of her hand to the area around her, “for around ten years. It was hard to come here after living normally for most of my life.” Jules’ cheeks flushed with color. “Not that you’re not normal,” she rushed to say, “just this was all new. And then school came and went, and my passions didn’t really fit in this world, so I went back to the one I’d known before.”
She sat back in the chair, hand brushing blonde hair behind an ear. The chaos of the morning rush coupled with what had transpired with the man’s attack was finally catching up with her and she felt a sudden bout of tiredness. “It’s just been a while since I’ve had to think like a witch. I suppose I’ll have to look into putting securities on the restaurant. Something more than just a lock on the front and back doors.”
Euan nodded. He didn’t quite understand how someone could not fit within the magical world, but then again, he had grown up with magic. He had never given it much thought how a muggleborn must have felt being catapulted into a whole new society. It must have been difficult. “Wards would be a good place t’ start. Something t’ keep out intruders and trespassers. Not tha’ I would assume tha’ ya wish t’ bar anyone from ya establishment, but ya can ban anyone who has caused ya trouble in th’ past. If ya find yaself in tha’ sor’ of situation.”
“Wards,” Jules repeated. She had no idea where to start looking for someone to help with that, but she knew if she did a little digging - or opened up a wizarding paper - she’d be able to find something. “I’m hoping something like this doesn’t happen again, but it’ll be nice to have it taken care of. Just in case. And if you’re saying this is happening other places...”
She remembered the stories of people in the area, telling how they’d come to find their places of business completely ransacked or destroyed. A man in Cambridge had had his store burnt to the ground. Everyone had assumed it was random teenage violence. It wasn’t unheard of in the area. Now, though, Jules was beginning to wonder how much of the damage hadn’t really been teenagers at all.
Sighing, she turned a tired but bright smile toward Euan. “Thank you very much. Really. I’ll definitely look into getting wards and being more prepared.”
Several maxims ran through his mind, but non seemed quite appropriate for the situation. “Thank ya for yar time, Ms. Dorny. I am glad tha’ nobody else was in the restaurant and tha’ damage was minimal.” He leaned over to look at the statement the quill had written. Quickly glancing it over, he deemed it accurate enough for the woman to sign. “if you could please sign at the bottom and date, stating that these are the evens which occurred earlier today?” He handed her a quill.
Jules scanned the page before signing her name. Setting his quill down, she grabbed her bag and stood. “You’ll let me know if you need anything else?” At his nod, she smiled and started toward the door. It was only when her hand had wrapped around the doorknob that she remembered her wand was still sitting on his desk.
Turning around, embarrassment coloring her cheeks for the second time that day, she grabbed the piece of wood. “I should probably start keeping better tabs on this,” she remarked, stowing it in her bag. Shaking her head at herself, making a mental list of things to do - clean Shakespeare’s before the next morning, subscribe to wizarding paper, look into warding - she let the door close behind her.
Summary: Jules’ cafe, Shakespeare’s is attacked. She goes to the MLE and gives her statement to Euan.