She was doing this. She was actually doing this. The thought had kept running through Bells mind like a persistent wind in the trees all day as she had completed her errands on Diagon Alley. Getting ready for this new turn in her life - teaching at Hogwarts. It was a stroke of luck, really, Bells knew that. But she also knew that it would take her far away from the forests of her work and thus she had better prepare herself well.

She'd spent the afternoon shopping for supplies, the sun beating down on the yellow bonnet she'd bought last summer in a peek of cheerful serenity, before meeting with Mary after her friend's shift at the library ended.

While Bells hadn't spent much time in London ever, Mary hailed from London and had taken a post at a library after their graduation from Hogwarts so she could be closer to her family - particularly her younger siblings. While Mary always appeared the every shy bookworm, it only took a pint or two of good ale to get her giggling as if they were first years once again. This evening was no exception.

"Oh do be serious." Bells rolled her eyes even as her laugh bubbled up out of her. "I haven't the slightest chance catching his eye. Let alone having the time to do anything with it before I have to take up my post." Besides, she was trying to be a good example now that she'd gotten a teaching post.

"But he's so handsome." Mary sighed wishfully, discreetly eyeing the quidditch captain at a table not far from theirs.

"Yes, and what shall my students say when I arrive after such an adventure, that I'm a harlot?" Bells said it slightly but something in her stomach tightened at the thought. Mary arched a brow to her and Bells knew precisely the point Mary was trying to make. "Oh fine." Bells grumbled, standing up from her seat and grabbing bonnet from the table.

She looked, for all intents and purposes as if she were leaving the cafe, the yellow satin ribbons of her bonnet dangling idely from her fingers as she flounced toward the door. Already Bells mourned the loss of her pint of ale, half drunk on the table, a terrible waste if this didn't work. The bonnet dropped unnoticed as Bells took the final steps to the doors, her fingers reaching out and beginning to crack the door open, letting the late afternoon sun drift in on lazy shafts and land upon her face.

Esteban Zavala