Old Witches and Nasty Goblins -Open-

[Madeline Merrick-Kendrick]

An Alice-band crowned Madeline’s head to keep irritants of hair sweeping past her face. This morning Madeline was a busy woman and had many errands to run before her shift at the Hospital earlier that evening. In one hand she carried a paper bag, wrapped with care, from Flourish and Blotts which contained a new recipe book and in the other hand Samuel held tightly to her palm as they braved the morning crowds of Diagon Alley.

It seemed that the number of people capsized in the morning, most having the feeling that this was the least likely time for a horde of Death Eaters to swoop down from the skies and devour them one by one…or some such nonsense. Madeline recognized the danger that lurked, but was more of the mind that whatever will happen, will happen. She was not about to live her life hiding under a rock when there was much more important things that needed to be done; like laundry.

“Mum, have I been good today?” Samuel looked on to his Mother with the gleam of something more than this simple question.

A brow curved and she returned the look from her son, “I suppose that depends.”

Reproachful, Samuel made to question his Madeline. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is, if you can go into Gringott’s and not wander off like the last time or the time before, than perhaps I’ll think about stopping for some sweets on the way. Maybe even Cauldron Pasties or Drooble’s Gum.”

For good measure, Samuel did a good natured twirl under his mother’s arm, causing her throaty laugh to nearly startle some of the more gloomy folk nearest her.

Mother and son tackled the marble white steps leading into Gringott’s Bank and when they passed through the large double doors, she felt her heart sink.

Every line was nearly twenty people long, and Samuel moaned the very same moment as she.

“Mum, we’ll be here ages can’t we just come back?”

“No, I’ve got to get this money deposited as quickly as I can, love. It might not take that long. Come on, this line here doesn’t seem to be moving so badly.”

They entered what seemed to be one of the shortest lines, stretching about eighteen, and Madeline had been right, the line was moving fairly quick that was until…

“I have a complaint!” A shrill voice from an elderly witch stabbed at the ears of anyone near by.

“Damn.” Madeline squeezed her son’s hand, and began scouring the other lines for something that seemed to be moving along its way.

[Gideon Campbell]

"Too bad it's illegal to curse some people, eh?" The voice came from behind her, smooth as coffee and just as dark, as deep. It belonged to a tall wizard wearing mostly Muggle clothing, shaggy hair curling about his ears, his face showing stubble that was less five-o-clock shadow and creeping more toward midnight. Above the smiling mouth, his eyes were a light shade of green that bordered on grey. In the dragon-hide leathers and the "Bubble&Toil: Tower of Ivory World Tour" tee-shirt, he could have easily fit in at any mundane rock club without effort.

There was an envelope in his hand that looked thick, and he stood with a kind of hip-thrusted forward slouch that suggested he was in no hurry. His eyes swept over her frame without a leer that some could tell just lurked below the surface of his expression like a creeping leviathan, and stopped to rest on the boy's face.

The large, broad palmed left hand dislodged itself from the pocket of his well-worn jeans and reached for the boy's ear. There was a flash of silver from a plain ring worn around his index finger, and then a second when he pulled a sickle from behind the young man's ear.

"Ye've got ta be careful, lad." Gideon said with mock seriousness, his Glaswegian accent less thick than normal. "If yer not, then the Goblins will turn ye upside doon an shake ye free of yer treasures."

He put the coin in the boy's hand and closed his fingers around it before straightening, giving the witch who was probably his mother a wink.

[Madeline Merrick-Kendrick]

Muchly busy seeking out some shorter line, she almost hadn't realized that the gentleman behind she and her son was specificly addressing her, and he didn't win Madeline's attention until a hand began to swim in the direction of Samuel. Only for a running second had she been alarmed, but when gifting the situation with her full on attention, it was something as harmless as parlor tricks.

"Oh, yes. Honestly, people are so frightened to wander after dusk, that going anywhere in the early day is like walking into a small closet filled with people." A hand ran over the unruly strands of Samuel's hair, who now was more interested in the man's simple trick than he had ever been inclined to feel toward the various spells and charms that flung from his Mother's wand tip.

Clutching the silver coin, he released a smile that in such dark times was a beacon of hope to their world, and coyly surveyed the gentlman before him. "Have you ever seen a Goblin shake the life out of someone? Do they really? How do you know?"

"Samuel." Madeline hissed good naturedly, to quell the over flow of her son's inquieries. "You'll have to exscuse him, he's had a fascination with Goblins ever since his first trip into Gringotts." The palm of her hand fell over his shoulder, "I think they make you fell tall." She followed her humor with a warm wink, it was one of the subtle things she and Samuel shared.

In an airy giggle he was set to argue his Mother. "No, Mum, that's not why. Salise's brother told me that if you can find their pot of gold that they'll grant you any wish."

"Samuel, Darling, that's Leprachauns."

"No difference Mum, they're all short. Gran says they probably have little pubs and tea houses for themselves."

"I think it's best not to listen to the tales that Gran and Salise's brother are telling you."

Samuel scrunched his facial features, and allowed his Mother to win the battle, but assuring her the War was not over and that Goblins did infact harbor wish granting and pots of gold.

"Oh! Bubble and Toil fan? I remember that tour, it was wonderful. Saw them when they came to Manchester. I, infact, enjoyed it much more than last year's Quidditch World Cup, but probably because I hate to see Wales lose, especially to the Transylvanians. Cheeky blighters." The smooth flex of her voice was the reminder of feminine auras gone with the years and only relived in pages of history, but that was contradicted with her modern interests.

"But where are my manners, I'm Madeline, and as you've probably guessed, this is Samuel."

[Gideon Campbell]

While the mother was a beauty to be sure, it was the boy who had all of Gideon’s attention in those moments, the questions coming rapid-fire and curious as only a boy can be. Even when she spoke his name and began to make apologies for Samuel, he couldn’t help but let the grin curve across his lips and beam brightly. The man that belonged to this small family was indeed a lucky one and Gideon felt a spike of envy pierce him in an unexpected fashion. He had never been the five-o-clock, wife-and-kids kind of man, but for a single moment, he would have gladly traded places with Mister Knockout Brunette. Especially when she cracked a joke and offered the boy the secret wink of motherhood, that let him know that she was firmly on his side.

Gideon’s brogue thickened slightly. “Oh aye, git thar wee greennock fingers about yer nick and then squeeze fer dear life, until yer eyes come all round like breadplates and ye can hear the air fight ta come free.” A tad violent, mayhap, but those were the details that boys revelled in, the gorier it seemed, the better. Gideon lifted his hands and managed to pantomime the motion before he was cut off again by the melodious sound of her voice accompanied by the child’s scrunchy face.

“Aye, for a long time now…three years at least.” He didn’t mention that he’d spent a wicked night backstage with the band in their pass through London, writing the article about their antics under one of his various pseudonyms. While he could have taken credit for it, the Prophet had wanted its readers to believe the piece was seen through the eyes of a young witch, in hopes to appeal to a broader market. That had been one of the reasons he’d taken to being unhappy with his former employees. And then this woman mentioned Quidditch.

He felt a piece of his heart melt further away. “It was a good game though, Igor Beszterce is one of the best keepers in the European league and the most amazing woman outside of any given Harpy is their seeker, Nadia Medgyes. An’ at least Wales made it…I canna say that the Montrose Magpies pairformed admirably or well midseason, and lost as usual.”

It had always been his wish to play for the Magpies.

When she introduced herself and the boy, his eyes lit to her face and again he smiled at her, this time rising to his full height and inclined his head in a bow. “Pleasure ta meet ye, Madeline. Campbell, Gideon Campbell.”

He then turned to Samuel, and treating him like a man, held out his hand to shake the boy’s.