date: 2nd august, 1978 time: 7am location: diagon alley OPEN
Rita did not consider herself to be an early bird or a night owl. She found labels of all kinds to be unnecessary and extremely limiting (heterosexual, gossip columnist, Muggleborn), and these were no exception. Not only that, but neither really applied to her, being one of those freakish souls who could survive on astonishingly little sleep; falling into her bed at 2am after a long night of writing and bouncing out of bed again at 5:30am so that she could be one of the first in the office.
That being said, there was something about mornings that she found incredibly energising - the possibilities, the blank slate. Living on Diagon Alley certainly helped, her curiosity always propelling her out of her flat to watch all the shops open, their wares for the day displayed outside or in the windows. Her pace would slow as she passed the market stalls, eyes scanning to see if there was anything worth buying or writing about (there never was) as she sipped a coffee bought along the way.
It was a warm morning already, and Rita happily sat on a bench in the sun, soaking it up as much as she could ahead of her long day in a room where sunlight was often obscured by cigarette smoke and many enormous male egos. Her eyes had closed in contentment for a moment, only for a shadow to fall across her face seconds later and cause her to open them again, expression confused until she registered who it was.
“Oh, it’s you. I wasn’t expecting to see you until later.”
Hate was a strong word, and Geraldine didn’t care for it. She didn’t hate the way the early morning light filtered through the Alley. She didn’t hate the quiet that came from people filtering out of apartments for work, quietly grabbing breakfast over the paper, or generally moving a little slower before the full commute settled in. She didn’t hate the fog in her head that kept her brain from starting for another hour at least.
It was not to be mistaken for having any fondness, no. In nearly five years, she’d never voluntarily seen Diagon Alley at this time. Hell, she dropped Divination sixth year when she realized she could sleep in three mornings a week—she knew enough of the principles to sell a wand to a Seer by then anyway.
Geraldine looked at Rita blearily, slow to put together any of the pieces. “We open at eight,” she said, both answering an unasked question and offering the start of an explanation. “Someone has to be here."
She used her free hand to push back her hair—the other busy with a thermos of tea that followed two cups of coffee while she was already thinking about starting the kettle in the backroom. As for why she was here this morning, well, there was the missing piece. Garrick was called to an early meeting at the Ministry to look at a recovered wand to see if it was stolen. They didn’t have a registry, but they did have her grandfather.
"You’re not going to convince me to open up early.” Keys. She needed keys. “If you make me do that, I’ll hold your wand hostage for a full, tip-to-handle cleaning.” She had a feeling if Rita was here for anything, it had more to do with the stolen wands than her own. As ever, that would be even more difficult to come by.
i know this will make me sound old and boring but once i’m home for the night i’m home. i don’t like upsetting my plans even when i don’t have any. yes it’s only 8pm but i spent the whole evening believing i’m not going anywhere, i cannot perceive or be perceived right now, try again later
