Ever since the incident in Twilfitt and Tatting, Billie had been attempting to lay low.  She'd spent more time in Ollivander's than she usually did, skulking about in the shadows and sweeping until there was scarcely any dirt left on the floor.  Gideon had encouraged her to get some fresh air, so she had retreated to Padmore Park.  At least she could squirrel away in a tree somewhere.

She had even brought two books with her, a couple of her new texts for school.  Billie figured it might be useful to learn some history and theory about magic.  She was sure children who had actually grown up in a magical family would be far more ahead than she would.  She was determined to at least be able to pretend she had a clue.

The books were a bit dry, and she struggled with some of the words, but she'd gotten through at least the first chapter of one of the texts before she heard a figure approaching the tree.  Glancing down, she peering over the spine of the book, her face scrunching up into a frown.

"What do you want, Fletcher?"

Of all the people she had wished to avoid, he was on the top of her list.