Niki was out and about and meandering. He enjoyed meandering, even though it was the middle of the day and he didn't like the brightness. Even when there was cloud cover it was still brighter than he enjoyed, which was full dark. Nighttime was his favourite time, which was why he tended to sleep until lunch these days. Today he had rolled out of bed and wandered around the house until he struck him to go to Diagon Alley because he wanted Blood Pops and maybe and sandwich.
He was a ratty little thing, from his army boots with one unlaced, to his jeans that were more holes than denim, to his worn and fading Black Sabbath shirt, to his ratty uneven hair. Some people looked at him sideways and oddly as he wandered down Diagon Alley after having Flooed in (he rarely Apparated, as he was likely to splinch something off).
He headed to the sweet shop first, and was just arriving when someone was coming out the door. "I like the purple ones. The best," he commented, about the sugar quill the boy had between his teeth. "They taste purple." Then he frowned. "Are you an Auror?" he asked, which seemed apropos of nothing, but wasn't in Niki's mind.