Calling the Charge

[Frankie Tillington]

Obsidian Harbour was bustling and busy, and Frankie loved it. She'd left her mother back at the ice cream shop and for the last ten minutes had been ducking and weaving her way up the street, racing her way to the furthest end. The mission she had been given today, and she always chose to accept, was to buy and bring back the three most interesting items that could be found within the budget and time frame her mother had given her. Six Galleons, thirteen Sickles and twenty-one Knuts. Two hours - clearly her mother had allowed her some extra time to get side-tracked. Frankie grinned and put on an extra burst of speed to dodge around a small family. You needed the time to get side-tracked - nothing new was ever discovered by only looking through your blinkers.

Having run as far as she could, Frankie stopped and hauled herself up onto one of the low stone walls making up a nearby garden planter, thinking nothing of using the shoulder of the person next to her as a support. She first turned to survey the shops stretching back down the street, then said, "If you'd never been here before, what would your plan of attack be?" The question was clearly directed at the person whose shoulder she had just commandeered, and Frankie peered down to examine them, preparing herself for an argument if need be. It was a boy about her own age, she saw now. Good. Adults had an affronted way of being grumpy that generally annoyed her, where they liked to tell her off for daring to do something that was unexpected in their dull and boring lives. Children were usually much more receptive to the way Frankie liked to exist, and it would make her day much easier if this boy wasn't the type to make a fuss about it. "Best three places to visit, go."

 

[Patrick Vernier]

Walking around Obsidian Harbour all day had really made Patrick tired. He was forced to carry around all of the shopping bags himself as all of the purchases belonged to him. He didn't particularly mind but it was a quicker way to make him tired and after almost three hours of walking around he really needed a break. His father suggested that he wait outside whilst he went into the ice cream shop and Patrick was more than happy to oblige if he was quick enough. After all, Patrick could only handle a certain amount of time by himself and the only reason he was not putting up a fight was simply because he thought he deserved some ice cream after such a long day.

The pre-teen stood away from a large group of people by himself as he watched his father enter the shop and quickly became startled when he felt something leaning on his shoulders. Instinctively, Patrick dropped his bags and took a step back, throwing the person off him. Luckily, it was someone his own age who was asking quite a bizarre question that Patrick didn't really understand, especially considering it was in English. It made Patrick feel scared but he tried not to show it and simply raised an eyebrow at her. Her next words however were a bit easier to understand. "I-I don't... know. I don't... live... here." he said with a strong French accent, speaking slowly so he didn't mess up his English.

 

[Frankie Tillington]

Apart from the initial reaction of surprise, which Frankie reckoned was fair enough considering she'd just used the boy as a support post, she was glad to see that he wasn't angry about it. She'd been bad-vibe-free for about five days now, and she was really pushing for a week. She watched patiently as he collected himself enough to respond to her questions, and her eyes lit up upon discovering that she was speaking to a fellow foreigner. "Oh, cool, neither do I." She hopped down from her position on the wall and sat cross-legged on it instead, eyeing the boy with considerably more interest. "Well, not yet I don't. I'm from LA, but I'll be coming here next year for school - Hogwarts. Are you going?" She kind of already suspected the answer, seeing all the bags he had with him. "Where do you live then? I'm guessing Europe somewhere?" France probably, if his accent was anything to go by, but it would be totally rude to assume. While she waited for him to answer, Frankie briefly dug around in the pocket of her hoodie before pulling out a small, slightly crumpled paper bag. Shaking it open, she popped a couple pieces of candy in her mouth, then offered the bag out to the boy. "Want some? They're sour, though - I'm Frankie, what's your name?" She didn't bother worrying about whether he had understood her or not, as she inherently assumed he could - heck, she couldn't speak more than the one language she'd grown up with, so even if this boy spoke the worst English in the world he was already way ahead of herself in the language department.

 

[Patrick Vernier]

Patrick watched as the girl sat cross-legged on the wall and stepped back from her slightly in case she were to do anything unpredictable. Meeting strangers was not always Patrick's favourite thing to do as he didn't know anything about them and Merlin knew what this girl was even up to. Better yet, she was going to be going to the same school Patrick was and he didn't know whether or not to be glad about that. It was good he knew someone before stepping in the doors but he hoped for some reason that she wasn't going to be sorted into the same house as him. "France." Patrick said simply in reply to the girl's question. He was thankful that she hadn't assumed that and smiled slightly at her, not sure why he was feeling so uncomfortable in her presence. The French boy watched as she retrieved a paper bag out of her pocket full of candy and ate some. He shook his head when she kindly offered him some and smiled politely as she introduced herself as Frankie. "My name is Patrick." he replied, wondering what she was going to do next.

 

[Frankie Tillington]

Frankie scrutinised Patrick carefully as she chewed. Five words wasn't a lot to say to someone, and if he was one of those shy types she wouldn't get much out of him - it hadn't escaped her notice that he hadn't answered her question about whether he was going to the same school she would be. "So, are you going to Hogwarts next year or not?" The most obvious answer was yes, but she didn't understand why he wouldn't just tell her that - or 'no', if she was wrong, but she didn't think she was. "I've never been to France. I feel like it's different to LA, but not really different different - I mean, we're all people. Like here," she said, gesturing at the street around them with one hand while the other dipped back into the bag of candy. God, this stuff was good. "You don't say much do you?" she said, abruptly changing the subject. "I mean, that's fine. Am I bothering you?" Frankie wouldn't be offended if she was, she'd just leave him alone and find someone more promising to explore the street with.

 

[Patrick Vernier]

Patrick felt rather impolite that he hadn't answered the girl's question and she had to ask it again. He quickly responded. "O-oh... I'm sorry." he told her, blushing slightly. "Yes, I go to Hogwarts next year." His first impression to this girl was probably not very good at all and Patrick wished he could turn back time to change that. Unfortunately, that was impossible and Patrick secretly hoped she wouldn't go around telling everyone how bad of a person he is. "France... not different to New Zealand, except everyone speak English." he told her, attempting to carry on a conversation now to hopefully fix up his first impression just a little bit. "No, you not bothering me. I'm just waiting for papa to come out of the shop." Patrick smiled at her, suddenly realising how glad he was that he was getting company. This way, if anyone did decide to kidnap him whilst he was waiting, Frankie would come with him too.

 

[Frankie Tillington]

Frankie's smile was one of puzzled amusement as she responded to Patrick's apology. "You don't have to be sorry about it - do you know anything about the school? I thought I was going to Ilvermorny until a few months ago, so I'm a bit out of the loop with this Hogwarts stuff." Although, how different could it be? School was school, no matter which way you looked at it. Nodding as she listened to him, Frankie quickly looked up and around the street with bright eyes. "So France is like New Zealand, huh? That's good to know - I like New Zealand so far. The light's cool. It's like everything's sharper here." She was glad she wasn't bothering Patrick - it always left her with bad vibes to realise that people found her annoying. "What shop's he in?" she said, peering through the windows of the one's nearby, as if she'd be able to recognise Patrick's father on the spot. "My mom's back at the ice cream parlour, she wanted me to go make friends. I mean, she didn't say that, but I know it's what she meant. It's a little early to tell, but you'll be my friend, right Patrick?" She eyed the boy with the easy confidence of people who were used to making friends. "Although, don't feel pressured to say yes, either. It's a free world, after all."