Anzhelina can be an unsavoury young woman. (purebred) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2008-08-19 18:57:00 |
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As an excuse to get away from the tediousness of home, Anzhelina spent her Tuesday afternoon visiting the shops in Diagon Alley to pick up things she claimed she needed. The weather was nice; not particularly warm, but more than comfortable enough to walk in. And though the cramped streets of London had recently been deemed unsafe, the open atmosphere was much better than reading the same books she'd read a million times in her study. She didn't tell her father about where she was going. She really didn't have to since he hadn't been at home when she left, but feeling a little guilty, she tried to tell herself that there was nothing wrong with wanting to do things on her own for once without explicit permission. Anzhelina stepped out of the Magical Menagerie and into the crowded alleyway after browsing through the newest arrival of pets, hoping to soon pick out a new one. Her yellowish hair made her easy to spot in the sea of brunette, in spite of the fact that she was shorter than most everyone else. Peter was quietly thankful that Crook had been a bit more lenient on him lately. After realizing just how much Peter did around the office, he had been making every attempt to keep him from feeling like he was better off somewhere else. That included allowing him outside of the office sometimes, even if it was just running a few messages from the office to clients in nearby buildings like Foxglove Flats. Peter was returning from one such trip, checking the clocks on the street as he passed. It was almost time to call it a night as it was, so he could stand to linger in the alley for a bit longer, say that he had to wait for the client to get back from some meeting or something like that. Crook very rarely asked questions as long as the lie seemed plausible. Catching a glimmer of familiar blond in the afternoon sun, Peter's head turned in the direction that he'd just saw said glimmer heading in before his voice actually decided that it would allow him control, "Anzhelina!" All right. That probably wasn't the subtlest way he could get her attention, especially in a crowded street, but he could just hope that there wasn't anyone around right now that would spot the two of them and decide that this needed to be reported as SCANDAL. At the sound of her name, Anzhelina turned her body around. Her stomach twisted into a knot at the thought of the person being someone she knew, someone who could potentially carry the news of her traipsing around London alone to her father. She hadn't been doing anything wrong, but she wanted to be careful. She didn't want there to be any reason for her to get into trouble. After seeing that it was none other than Peter Pettigrew, she relaxed a little, though not visibly. Instead of greeting him, she stared at him with an incredulous expression. Apparently, it was that easy for a person to be reunited with someone they hadn't seen in years. Clearing her throat, she tried her best to appear unmoved, "Yes?" Smart. Very smart. And Peter could certainly appreciate the reaction. Curbing his reaction to align with hers, Peter offered her a business like smile as he closed the distance between the two of them. Falling into the tone that he used when addressing the clients that came into the office, Peter cleared his throat, "I apologize, Miss Dolohov. I did not mean to be so informal." Those words were basically for the people that were surrounding them. "I am glad that I caught you. Mister Crook has some things that he wanted me to send along to your father. I will be able to save an owl the trip now. Would you care to accompany me back to the office?" He asked, his smile quirking into a much more sincere one as he winked at her. Subtle and understandable, something that few people would question, and it was a perfect excuse for the two of them to walk and talk that wouldn't draw too much consideration. At least, he could hope. Anzhelina had to fight back a smile at the way he was speaking to her. Miss Dolohov. She was accustomed to being addressed that way, but it was incredibly odd hearing it out of Peter's mouth. He had always been nice and polite, but this didn't suit him at all. For a moment, she started to miss her life at school -- things were less complicated before being thrown into the adult world. Instead of smiling like she might have wanted to, feeling rather tickled by his wink, she rolled her eyes and nodded. "Fine," she said, staring directly at him; waiting for him to lead them out of the bustling crowd. This was...amusing, to say the least. It had been awhile since he had had the opportunity to play a part. Inclining his head toward her, he turned and motioned for her to follow him as he headed through the crowd that bustled in the crush between Flourish and Blott's and the Magical Menagerie and towards the lower and less crowded area of the Alley that housed Crook's Magical Law office. As soon as the amount of people around thinned, and Peter was able to assess that there wasn't anyone around who would know either of them, he turned to her, chuckling a bit, "Should have been a bit more careful than I was," He said. "Sorry about that. Good cover, though." Anzhelina ignored his apology and looked him over with an arched eyebrow. Appearance wise, he was precisely the same as she remembered: his face was the same, he was still round, and it was almost like he was still fresh out of school, like no time had passed at all. "What are you doing here?" she asked while waving a hand at him, and probably sounded more impatient than what was intended. She hoped he had forgotten about their discussion over the journals; how she had suddenly decided to share the details about her life with someone like him. "I work here," Peter said, grinning slightly. He would think that was obvious with the little story that he'd rattled off, but still, he could understand why he was being asked what he was doing out. "And I live here, actually," he said, glancing back behind them towards the road that lead to the Grindylow Gardens. It was quite a distance away and not exactly visible at the moment, but he knew the building was still there with his flat in it even if he hadn't been back to it for some time. "So I think I have every excuse to be here," He said, a teasing smile gracing his face as he looked at her out of the side of his eye. "What are you doing here?" "I mean here. Calling out my name the way you did. Dragging me down alleyways. Our friendship ended at Hogwarts, if you were not aware," Anzhelina crossed her arms over her chest. It should have been obvious she was not as annoyed as she tried to make herself appear. Their friendship hadn't ended at Hogwarts; they hadn't seen each other since then, but physical interaction was not a requisite for friendship. "And I was shopping," she added defensively. Peter arched an eyebrow at her slowly, curious but more amused than he was hurt. There was a very vague confusion in his features, but nothing that couldn't have been wiped away easily. "You didn't have to come with me," he explained, looking down at himself before glancing over at her. "And I'm not holding on to you, so I'm not sure this qualifies as dragging." He glanced back and forth in the alleyway before stepping away from her and nodding down the other side of the fork in the alley. "There's an apparation point right over there, if you want to be rid of me. Or you can just go back to what you were doing. I'm sorry if I'm an unwanted interruption." "It would have been rude of me to ignore you," Anzhelina replied. Her eyes briefly followed the direction he had indicated. Going home was not an option for her if she didn't wish to completely lose her mind from the inevitable boredom. "I might not be the most refined girl in society, but now that I am older, there is no excuse for blatant rudeness. And I do not want to be rid of you, all right? That was not the point." "Then what was?" The question was posed with an air of innocent curiosity that Peter always seemed to manage to pull off even when he was less than innocent and already knew the answer to the question that he was asking. Her comment about not being the most refined had provoked another grin, less amused but more appreciative than the last few, as he took a step forward to eliminate the distance that he had put between them only a few seconds before. "And frankly, being refined is overrated, exceedingly boring, and takes forever. It's always more practical to just get straight to the point." "My point is that I was taken off guard. I have not seen your face in a long, long time, which was something I had grown used to, and I certainly was not expecting to run into you while minding my own business in Diagon Alley," she explained truthfully. It was strange seeing him again, as well as somewhat embarrassing. She refused to let her cheeks turn a faint pink. That wasn't something she'd usually do. She noticed that he had taken a step closer to her, but didn't acknowledge it. No. It didn't deserve to be acknowledged. "Well, that I can certainly understand," Peter said, his voice taking on a mirthful lilt. "I certainly would hate to subject you to this ugly mug when you've gotten used to not having to suffer through it." Another wink and grin despite the fact that the back of his mind was attempting to curb his behavior, lecturing him quietly about how he was being uncomfortably forward and unnecessarily flippant, about how he should really take a step back and try and to curb his behavior, but he was pointedly ignoring that voice because that wasn't nearly as fun as teasing. "You underestimate me, Pettigrew," Anzhelina, who hadn't entirely relinquished her defensiveness, rolled her eyes once more. "I have recently conditioned myself to suffer through things. I can handle it. At least for now. I will let you know if and when it becomes unbearable." There was a short pause before she decided to try and change the subject. She didn't want to admit, more than she already had, that she was glad to see him. During school, she didn't have a lot of friends, and left with even less. She looked around for a moment, trying not to make comments about how decrepit the area looked in comparison to the extravagance she was typically surrounded by. "You said you live near here?" Peter just smiled at the rolling of her eyes as he nodded back toward the other end of the Alley, "Back in Grindylow Gardens, one of the studio flats on the upper floors. It's not much, but it suits well enough. I don't need much space." And as much as he did miss living at home sometimes, it was nice to know that he could fend for himself. And he definitely missed the quiet sometimes, what with being packed in the Potter place in Godric's Hollow with everyone that last few weeks. "If I were on my own and able to have options, I would not live in a place such as this, but to each their own or whatever that saying is," she said, trying her hardest to be delicate about it. Instead, she sounded unintentionally blunt. "Do you like living here? And working here?" "It's nicer than the other places in London that I could afford," Peter said, offering her a rather sheepish smile. Because that was the issue, wasn't it? He could only live somewhere that he could afford. "And as much as I'm fond of Birkenhead and could probably get a nicer place up there, there's just something about actually being away from home that makes a big difference. I know if I was living in the same town I grew up in, I'd likely never actually be at my own place except to sleep." He could definitely be called a Mama's boy by anyone and not be able to argue about it. She shrugged, and for the first time, her lips curved upward to return his smile. There was a hint of derisiveness to it, as usual, but Anzhelina couldn't help that -- there were hints of derisiveness in everything she did. "I fortunately cannot relate to any of your problems," she said, and stepped forward a little herself. "But I suppose it is good to know you are not swimming in complete filth or anything." "I do take the steps to make sure I'm clean and presentable," Peter said with a bit of a laugh. "Well, most of the time. As long as I'm not rushed." There were likely times that she could recall from school were he came to class looking like he'd gotten caught in a storm on his trip from the dorms to the classroom, but when you only woke up with ten minutes to get dressed and get to class, there was little care that could be taken in order to make sure you didn't appear as frazzled as you were. Luckily, he hadn't had that sort of issue anymore. Much. He had to take a bit more care in his appearance anymore. He might just be a clerk, but being at the desk in the front of the office and the first thing that most of the people that came in saw, Crook would have had his head if he came in looking like he'd just rolled out of bed. "I should probably peek into the office and tell Crook that I actually managed to drop off the message that he wanted me to," Peter said, glancing back towards the building the end of the street. "Shouldn't take a few seconds...." If she wanted to wait, that was. He wasn't actually going to say anything like that out loud, though. She could make up her own mind about what she wanted to do. Anzhelina shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She looked at the building and then at Peter, inwardly debating if she should stay. If she stayed, she would be letting him know that she wanted to spend more time with him. If she left, she really wouldn't have much to return to. As it was, their little encounter happened to be the most 'exciting' thing to occur all week. Temporary relief from the mundane. "All right," was all she replied with; there was enough implication in the tone of her words that he'd know she would wait for him. Peter stamped down on the mixture of elation and relief that filtered into his consciousness at her brief answer, offering her a thankful smile as he turned towards the building and slipped inside. It was barely a minute before he slipped back out of the building with his journal and a small stack of folders in hand. Crook wasn't exactly thrilled with how long it had taken him to get back to the office, but other than a vague comment about Peter perhaps getting a bit more exercise so that it didn't take him so long to walk to a building that was close enough to chuck a rock at and likely hit that could be easily ignored, he didn't say too much about it. Crossing over to Anzhelina, Peter glanced back up the Alley before turning to look at her. "Where you looking for anything particular?" Peter asked, an honest curiosity in the question. Anzhelina was surprised at how quickly he returned. "No, I was just browsing," she said, shaking her head a little. "I needed to get out of the house. I long for fresh air that is not really that fresh, you could say." Keeping a comfortable, appropriate distance between the two of them, she opened her mouth to ask another question: "So are you done with your work for today?" "Yeah. Light load for today," Peter said, nodding in understanding to her statement about needing to get out. "The crowds help. Sometimes one just needs to be smack in the middle of a lot of noise. Helps to stimulate the senses," He said, attempting to ignore how stupid that had probably just sounded and not blush as his own mind chastised him for being corny. There was another slight smile. Peter would have noticed if it were paying close attention. It was a smile she tried to hide, but decided not to fight it. It felt good not to fight it. She raised her eyebrows at him once he finished speaking; she was apparently amused. "You are very corny sometimes, Peter Pettigrew. Extremely corny." Quirking a grin at Anzhelina, Peter nodded. Oh, he was well aware. "It's part of the charm," He said, managing a lot more conviction in his voice than he actually felt on the matter. His confidence might have been believable if it weren't for the blush that was creeping onto his face. He ignored it as best as he could as he looked over at Anzhelina, "Care to walk me back to my flat?" He'd been meaning to go and pick up a few more outfits, after all. He was working on wearing the ones that he'd actually packed out with cleaning them so much. "Part of the charm," Anzhelina repeated, looking unimpressed. "Yes, I suppose if you twist the corniness around a little, it is charming. And I hope you are not trying to hint to that conversation we had. I am trying not to think about it. You are making me think about it. And yes, I will walk with you." There was nothing particularly strange about how quickly she said all of that, as she always had a very rapid way of articulating her words unless there was something there to tell her to slow down. "I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing," Peter said. That was, in fact, the farthest thing from his mind when he had made that crack, and he had only just realized exactly what he had said had probably sounded like. Oh, well. There wasn't any taking it back now. Not that he really wanted to. If he was going to end up thinking about that conversation endlessly, he wanted her to have to think about it, too. It wasn't cruel. It was just fair. "I think you give me more credit than I deserve sometimes." For some strange reason, she couldn't decide if following Peter to his flat crossed the delicate lines of decorum. For someone who had been raised to behave a certain way at all times, the conclusion to that should have come to her without difficulty. She was old enough to make the decision without paying any mind to the possible consequences, wasn't she? Try as she might to heed to her better judgment, and the nagging of her conscience, she reminded herself that realistically speaking, there was nothing wrong with spending time in the presence of an old friend -- regardless of their background. "You are right," she said. "I probably do." While in most people a statement like that probably would have provoked a negative reaction, in Peter, it provoked just the opposite. "Never change," Peter said as he looked over at Anzhelina, surprising himself with the suddenness of the statement. It was one of those things that had always floated around in the back of his mind when he was around her, but he had never actually managed to say out loud because of the fear that it would be taken the wrong way. But it seemed like his mind had decided to ignore that for the few seconds that it had taken from the words to slip past his filter. "I do not plan on changing more than I already have. We all change. We all grow. Hopefully, I am as mature right now as I will need to be for the rest of my life." Much as his resistance to her superciliousness irritated her, she found herself smiling again -- and this smile was more wide and genuine than the ones that preceded it. He definitely wasn't the only person in the world who could make her smile like that, but all the same, the effort itself was appreciated. The sun didn't seem as bright as it was when she had arrived there. She felt a little ridiculous as they walked through his moderately unsightly neighbourhood, which probably wasn't as unsafe as it appeared. The more juvenile side of her expected there to be homeless men begging for gold. They walked, awkwardly, and she was unable to ignore the urge to step a bit closer to him. "We're almost outside of the realm of being a teenager," Peter said, chuckling softly to himself. It was hard to believe. Well, almost. It would have been if these were normal circumstances that they were under, and he didn't feel like he had already hit thirty-five and was steadily heading towards forty. But he could remember that eighteen had felt little different than seventeen, and that nineteen, at the start, hadn't felt much different either. Twenty was shaping up to be different. That was, if he even made it to twenty. God. No. Don't think about that. "I never really expected that we'd have to be adults so soon." She shrugged. Comparatively, nineteen was no different for her than seventeen had been, and the issues that Peter was likely dealing with had nothing to do with her. Her growth was much more of a choice, as there was little happening in her life that would have forced her to mature unless she recognised she had to. She had no doubts she would live to see twenty and continue to mellow far beyond that; her father wouldn't let anything befall her. "Peter?" "Hm?" Peter asked, turning his attention to her and filing the vague surprise that she'd actually used his first name away in the back of his mind. It could be addressed later. "All right?" "I hope you continue to be safe," she said tersely, after a brief moment of hesitation. "As you know, I do not have many close acquaintances. If you died somehow, that would not be good for me." It wouldn't be very good for him, either. But, honestly, as much as he might worry about it, there was very little in Peter's mind that actually pointed to him being anywhere near the top of the Death Eater hit list. Maybe, if they decided to go at somewhere else through their friends, he could be in serious danger, but other than that... "I have every intention of remaining in one piece," Peter said, taking a slight step to the side, his arm reaching out and curling slightly around her waist. Forward? Yes. Bad idea? Maybe. But if he didn't test these boundaries, he'd never figure out what the hell was going on here. "It's going to take a hell of a lot more than some cranky psychotic werewolves to get rid of me." Anzhelina couldn't help her expression from turning into one that was amused and, admittedly, very nervous. Her shoulders tensed up a little at the close proximity, but overall, she didn't mind the unexpected gesture. In her eyes, it was subtle enough for her to at least attempt to ignore it. She resisted the strong desire to lean her head on him; no, that was out of the question. "The psychotic werewolves should be feared," she commented. "They are psychotic, after all. You should not take their presence so lightly." "I don't take it lightly," Peter said, quietly relieved that he didn't get reprimanded for the gesture (no matter how much more confusing that made things). "I know how dangerous werewolves can be..." He knew all too clearly. He'd seen it up close, after all, just how the moon effected someone. "But I'm smart enough to stay inside during a full moon." Lie. "And muggle turned wolves are going to have a hell of a time getting through wards." Maybe? He didn't have any anti-werewolf specific wards up, after all. And Greyback wasn't exactly a muggle. "Besides, why would they want anything to do with me?" Peter asked, the question coming out partly serious, partly flippant. "I'm nothing but empty calories." "I do not know, but they do not seem to care who they are attacking," she pressed on. She didn't know as much as she would have liked about the werewolf attacks. She hated not knowing, but there was also a huge part of her that didn't care about things that didn't directly pertain to her. "Peter." "I know," the statement was quiet but appreciative as he turned to look at her, his blue eyes meeting hers for a moment before he swallowed over the ball of nerves that had formed in his chest, leaning forward and pressing a very light kiss to her forehead. "I'll be more serious about it. Promise." The kiss placed on her forehand stopped her in her tracks, and she hoped she didn't look like a complete fool as she fixed her attention on him. In situations such as the one she'd found herself in, there was usually some sort of internal battle. Internally, she couldn't decide whether to return his kiss with one that was more audacious, or if she should strengthen her barriers and pretend she didn't like it. She hated awkward silences almost as much as she hated being weak and vulnerable -- as she stood there, trying to think of something to respond with, it took a few seconds for her to fully regain her composure. She smiled at him. "Is that all, Pettigrew? Not to deceive you into thinking any of this is appropriate, because it is not appropriate." Peter was able to stop himself as soon as he realized that Anz had stopped. His heart had practically shot into his throat, anxiety running through his body until it washed away at her smile. He had stepped over a line, a rather big line that could have possibly lead him directly off the edge of a cliff, but it hadn't (not yet, at least), and the challenge in her voice was more than enough to assure him that farther pushing of the line was likely not going to be met with much opposition. At least, presumably, not from her. "Oh, I'm sure I could do better than that," Peter said as he turned to face her. In all honesty, he'd never done anything like this before, and his heart was beating at a pace that would rival any hummingbird, but he was pushing all of those thoughts out of his mind as he collected himself and turned to face her, the hand that wasn't still wrapped around her waist coming up to cup her cheek. "As long as it isn't too inappropriate." She was unable to resist laughing a little at how forward he was being, though the laughter wasn't as mocking as it had been in the past. "Yes," she nodded. "That would not be good. That would not be good at all." There was another contemplative pause before she spoke again, as if she'd just realised what happened as well as how close they probably were to his flat. She wouldn't go inside; that was not an option, but she enjoyed the walk a lot more than she would ever verbally admit. "I think I should probably go home now. I know I said I needed fresh air, but you have made me very nervous and I do not know if I can take it for much longer. You are not even supposed to be making people nervous. You are Peter Pettigrew. This is bizarre." Nervous. At least it seemed like it was a good sort instead of an nervousness that came when one was uneasy about a situation. "Perhaps I'm better at pretending to be harmless than I let on," Peter suggested, unable to wipe the smile of his face as he moved his hand, almost unconsciously tucking one of her curls back behind her ear. "It was good to see you, Anzhelina. I'll talk to you later?" She laughed again, though this time it was involuntary. "Probably not anytime soon," she replied, eying him carefully, tilting her head into his hand. "I am a very busy person and I should be focusing my time on things that are more important than sneaking away from the estate to frolic around Diagon Alley. But yes, it was good to see you again." "Sneaking?" Peter asked, his voice hitching up in both a question and in amusement as he grinned at her. "Well now. You'd best get going, then. The key to sneaking out is to not get caught sneaking back in," He said, stepping back reluctantly, his hand gliding down from her cheek, over her shoulder, and down her arm until there was actually enough distance between the two of them that they weren't touching. "Remember not to let yourself get in over your head. Everyone needs a bit of fun to balance things out." Anzhelina impatiently waved a hand at him like she already knew that turning around slowly, heading back in the direction of Diagon Alley. |