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by: Isaac Malcolm
#1986
Saturday, March 17th
12:16 PM
Diagon Alley

It had been over a month since that business at Hogwarts was resolved. How horrible it must have been there? It had certainly kept Ike busy interrogating potential suspects there at Azkaban. He'd wondered if perhaps some of the students needed counseling, but upon bringing this idea up to his superiors he received shifty glances. What was that all about? Perhaps he'd need to analyze them and all of the notes he'd taken on their behavior over the past couple of years. But that was neither here nor there. Today was his first day off since the killer was killed and it was time to celebrate! How would he do it? Why with ice cream of course! That sounded delightful.

It was a beautiful day out for it too. The sky was a dismal gray, blocking even the slightest ray of sunshine from peeking through to London. The wind was bitey, and the temperature sub-optimal. It might even begin to precipitate the way things were looking. Beautiful indeed! Ike hummed as he strolled down the magical alleyway, paying no notice to those who stared at the odd fellow passing them. He promptly entered the ice cream parlor, and to his surprise there was nobody in line. How strange that nobody wanted a frosty treat on this cold, breezy March day.

He approached the counter, the wary looking worker eyeing him suspiciously. "I'll take one butterbeer float, my good sir!" The worker said nothing, but began preparing his treat for him. While doing this, Ike thought it would be nice to start up some cheerful conversation. "Did you know that ice cream preference can open a whole plethora of windows into the psyche of someone? Yes, simply observing what somebody eats can be all too revealing of a person's personality!" The worker raised both eyebrows and nodding, saying nothing and obviously not wanting to talk to the crazy person. Ike wasn't paying any attention though. He paid the man and sat down to eat his fizzy, sweet treat.

He sat down at a table by the window front so he could see all the wonderful people passing by. He sipped some of the drink before scooping out some of the ice cream. What a great idea for a splendid day off. He smiled to himself as he enjoyed his float, all alone in the restaurant, on this dismal day in March. A light rain began to pour at just that moment. Glorious.
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by: Hilda Prewett
#2299
Scugging miserable wet day...Hilda had her head ducked under the plastic shawl she'd scavenged from somewhere or another. The old woman was bent nearly double over the handle of her muggle shopping buggy. The faded red plastic cart was empty today. While Hilda had not been wise enough to stay home when the cats' behavior indicated rain, she HAD emptied her cart to keep her treasures from getting wet. Wouldn't want them wet, now would she? Tarot cards and playing cards were hard enough to replace when they got wet, and crystal balls were just annoying when they were wet. Got all finicky and didn't want to work...or was that her? Was she the one who didn't want to do anything when she was wet? And cold and miserable, she added. This weather was gloomier than a mortician's pants. And who was this fool, grinning like it was a holiday? It wasn't sweets falling from the sky, no sir. No siree bob. Ridiculous phrase. Fit a ridiculous man, too, didn't it? The crotchety old woman cast a glare at Malcolm, tempted to stop and give him a good dressing down for being so damn cheerful. It wasn't right. Wasn't right at all.
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by: Isaac Malcolm
#2330
The foam in his mug was just about all and the remaining ice cream had liquidated into the remaining butterbeer. He took a big swig of the sweet desert to finish it off, probably giving himself a foamy mustache in the process. It was only then that he noticed the elderly woman glaring at him from outside the window. He gave her a bright smile and waved as though this was somehow a socially appropriate response to a glaring stranger. His mind was instantly abuzz with his usual analysis of others as he began to wonder just what this woman might be thinking. The usual questions popped up in his mind and he ticked through them accordingly.

Who was she? Ike couldn't quite put his finger on it, but she looked very vaguely familiar. Not in the kind of way that he thought they had met before, but rather that he had maybe seen her picture. Maybe in a news article or book or something? He couldn't quite place it and there was really no way of knowing without further information. Besides, motivation was far more interesting to Ike than identity. She seemed rather disgruntled - was the weather to blame? Many people disliked wet and gloomy weather. They seemed to think it depressing and inconvenient for matters outdoors. To Ike it was all the same: sunny, raining, foggy, or snowing, it all made him happy. Lots of things made him happy in fact. Why it was hard to think of anything that could possibly dampen his mood!

Ike realized his mind was side tracking, and quickly steered it back to the matter at hand. Perhaps he could cheer this woman up with some company or something. At the very least he could see what had her down. He did so love interacting with people and couldn't help but wanting to aid them in any way he could. After all his entire profession was about helping people. With a final smile he stood up and briskly walked to the door, dropping his mug off at a little cleaning station on his way out. Yes, perhaps it was that splendid time again for Ike to interact with the general public. He would start by greeting the older woman, and perhaps would find out more about her. "Why hello there my good woman! Beautiful day out today isn't it?"
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by: Hilda Prewett
#2492
Good woman? His? Nobodies. The fool in the shop had come out to assault her with his cheerfulness. Maybe she'd tolerate it, or maybe she'd give him what-for along with an earful of her most venomous spite. Or she could just keep walking...Bah, he was already alongside her.

"Ain't your woman, and 'tis a day just as 'orrible as all the rest, so's I guess it's just as beauteous as the rest to all you over-enthusiastic, jumping bean, pea-brained, ministry boot-lickers...'

She had no proof that he was pea-brained or a ministry boot-licker, but it was a fair assumption that anyone who could be cheerful and also have passed through the Imperium gate check must, at the very least, not mind the government oversight.

Oh, her bones were starting to ache. Wonderful. Of all the times that she needed to sit down and rest was when there was this humdinger of an over involved happy person. Why couldn't he be miserable like the rest of the sane people?
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