[Galen Yardley]

Fourty-three. Galen looked in the mirror with a raised eyebrow. Did he look old enough to pass? His fingers stroked through his black hair. Maybe it was time to consider letting his natural grey show? He'd thought about it before, but wizards stayed youthful for longer, didn't they? It was fine if he didn't change anything, was it?

Galen concentrated and let the colour of his hair fade to its natural state. A few silver strands appeared and honestly didn't look half bad. Still, no matter how natural, it just didn't feel right. He shock his head and almost instantly his hair turned dark again. Better.

He could hear the voice of his mother in his mind. She wouldn't approve and never had. His current look just didn't sit well with her in general. However, it felt more comfortable to him. He liked being taller and more muscular. He'd spent so much time impersonating European-looking wizards he'd gotten used to certain things. All his mom seemed to know how to was nag. Galen felt resentful of it. He'd gotten them out of Japan with his talents, but instead of being grateful she was just being difficult.

You don't look like a proper Korean, she'd accuse him as if that was of any consequence to anybody. It was frustrating how 15 years later she could still rile him up with the same few sentences, even when she wasn't around.

Galen turned his back to the mirror. Her opinion didn't matter. It shouldn't matter and yet here he was fretting about it.

And it was time to head downstairs. Though the shop had only ever been intended as cover, he actually enjoyed running it. One day, when he could afford to retire from the ministry, he would run it in earnest. For a while anyway. Until he got bored. Okay, he'd get bored.

It was raining outside, so rather unsurprisingly Doldori was excited and happily bounced alongside Galen as he went to unlock the door. The magical umbrella creature naturally loved rainy days and always enjoyed entertaining the shoppers at Galen's little store. Not many British witches and wizards had ever seen a kasa-obake, meaning it usually received a lot of attention. Some of the wizarding children had even asked if they could pet it.

As was the case most mornings, the store was quiet. Galen looked at the shop across the street from his. They seemed to be having a slow day as well. He smiled. That probably meant that Dhanya would be over shortly for a cup of tea. Real tea, not the stuff the British liked to partake in.

[Dhanya Raveendran]

Dhanya gave a delighted smile. It was raining outside. While not generally a fan of rain, she was fond of the little ritual she had developed with Galen from across the road. When their shops weren't busy they would have a cup of tea together and talk. It was one of the few constants in Dhanya's life and therefore something she cherished. Years ago, Galen had hired her for her first job in Britain. Though they were no longer boss and employee, they had since become fast friends and colleagues. Birds of a feather, peas in a pod. She wasn't quite sure what expression she'd use, but as two foreigners in Britain they faced a lot of similar struggles. It was nice to have somebody to talk to.

Looking out of the window and across the road she watched Galen's kasa-obake play in the rain. The umbrella-creature had slipped outside and spread open. It really was a curious thing. Seemingly made from white paper it never got wet or dirty, no matter the weather outside. Until meeting Galen, Dhanya had never seen anything like it. Maybe one day she would get to visit Japan and learn more about its magical beasts and beings. The thought appealed, but for the time being travel was out of the question. Her business was here in London and she had worked too hard to establish it to risk anything going wrong.

Today was her turn to prepare the tea. Last time, Galen had made her a lotus flower tea that had tested delicious and looked very impressive in the bowl he'd prepared it in, a fresh flower floating in the centre. This time, she'd repay the favour with some sulaimani chai. Their exchanges had once started as introducing each other to teas from their come countries, but had grown into a tongue-in-cheek competition as to who could serve the most elaborate brew. She'd even owled her grandmother for a recipe for this one. So it better impress Galen.

A good fifteen minutes later she had two cups on a little tray and made her way across the road. Glancing at Galen she decided that there was something wrong with him today. Her friend always looked well put-together in his white button-up shirts and expensive suits, but today he seemed too immaculate. Sterile, she decided was the right word for it. She'd seen this before, whenever Galen had something on his mind he overcompensated by trying to appear extra polished.

"Everything alright?" She asked in his direction, not really expecting much of an answer. "Slow day today, isn't it?"

[Galen Yardley]

"Slow day, indeed," Galen confirmed, and his eyes met Dhanya's. For a moment they just held each other's gaze in silence. He considered how to answer her question. No, things weren't alright. He let out a deep sigh. He knew that was probably all Dhanya needed to understand. She'd always been good at reading him and was one of the few people in London who could claim to truly know him.

"Let's enjoy the tea you brought," Galen said and began clearing his desk in the back room to create a free surface. "It smells intriguing." He thought he could make out cinnamon, gloves, and ginger. It certainly wasn't a combination he'd have tried on his own accord, but wasn't that the point of their little exchange?

He sat and let Dhanya pass him one of the cups. "Gorgeous," he commented after taking a sip. "Thank you, Dhanya." The silence that spread between them was an easy one. It was one of the pillars of their friendship. Their silences had always been comfortable and filled with mutual understanding.

"You know, I've gotten a curious piece of new merchandise in not that long ago. It's a mirror with some sort of enchantment on it, but I can't quite work out exactly what it does." Galen indicated in the direction of mirror framed in carved mango wood. "Every time I look at it the reflection shows me working in a garden. I wonder what that means."

He had carefully omitted the fact that he kept seeing himself in the garden with Dhanya. He was curious what would happen when she looked in the mirror. Would she see the same as him? Would he be featured among the things she saw?  Did it show the future? It seemed unlikely. Neither him nor Dhanya had a garden, at least that he knew of. Maybe there was something she hadn't told him.

[Dhanya Raveendran]

"A mirror?" Dhanya asked in mild surprise. She couldn't recall Galen having a delivery of those in the shop before. It fit though, amongst the various enchanted objects and magical curiosities a mirror surely didn't stand out. He wanted her to have a look? Well, she couldn't claim to be an expert, but what harm would it do. Knowing Galen, there was more to this than the obvious. He often asked for help, but she found that frequently he didn't really need it. This was probably another one of his little 'projects' where he wouldn't tell her what it was all about before she had formed her own opinion.

"Alright," she confirmed to her friend. "I'll take a look at this mirror of yours, but it better not be a prank." It wouldn't be. She knew that. Dhanya just wanted to make the point that she had noticed he was manipulating the situation again. He always did that and she still didn't understand why. "Would it kill you to tell me what's really on our mind, just this once?" She gave him an accusatory look as if telling off a child. Why was it so hard for him to simply trust?

Well, Dhanya had her suspicions about Galen, but now was not the time to bring them up. One day soon though she would confront him. One or two more missing pieces and maybe she would begin to make some sense of it all.

She took a sip from her own tea before looking at the mirror. Her reflection looked normal and accurate, but their surroundings did not. "Curious," she commented out loud. "It shows me standing in a garden." That last word seemed to light something in Galen's eyes. He was looking at her most intently, as if waiting for a profound truth of the universe to be revealed to him.

"I'm afraid I don't recognise it," she offered up. "But it's gorgeous. Beautiful fruit trees and flower beds. Really it's quite remarkable. Reminds me of Kerala," she continued. "But it's not in Kerala, the sky isn't right and something about the colours. No this is elsewhere."

Looking again she noted that Galen was reflected in he mirror image as well. Was that because he was in the room? He didn't sit at an angle where his reflection should have been caught, but magical mirrors were funny things with funny powers. Still seeing him there, in the garden gave her pause.

"Have you tried it?" She asked Galen. "What do you see?"

[Galen Yardley]

She was seeing a garden? Galen felt anticipation welling up inside of him. That was a good sign, wasn't it? Was her garden the same as his? Her description of fruit trees and flower beds was consistent with what he had seen as well. Oh, but she didn't know where it was either? Shame. Part of him had hoped that Dhanya would know the location and shed a little light on the mystery. Apparently, they weren't so lucky. Was the garden even real? Did the mirror show this backdrop to anybody who looked? He had even more questions now.

He also noted that she hadn't mentioned seeing him. Of course, he had known that this was a distinct possibility, but he still felt disappointed. Their friendship meant a lot of him and having this magical connection had been both intriguing and reassuring. There weren't many people that could make him feel like he belonged. Dhanya therefore was special in his mind. Lovers came and went, but friends were solid, permanent.

Maybe, his disappointment showed in his face for a moment, but he tried to gloss over it with a put on smile. Meanwhile, Dhanya confronted him with the obvious question. He hesitated, unsure if an honest answer was wise or if, perhaps, it would come across as creepy. No, he decided that trusting his friend was the best option.

"Yes, of course I did," he told her. "And turns out I saw a garden as well. Fruit trees, flower beds, bright and colourful, but I am afraid I didn't recognise the location I saw either. I was curious if you would see the same as I and if perhaps you had an idea if it was a real place or not, especially since..." Galen paused. "I saw you in the reflection with me. I wasn't quite sure what I am supposed to make of that."

There it was. He had told her and all in all it had been a little easier than anticipated. Hopefully Dhanya wouldn't feel uncomfortable upon hearing it.

[Harold Prendergast]

In the course of his travels - and his former Ministry work - Harold had heard about a place that, as his former colleague put it, "might just be right up your alley, Prendergast, quaint little curio place. Doubtless you'll find something there to occupy your mind."

It so happened that today he had had reason to visit this part of the capital on some other purchasing matters and he was reminded of the 'curio shop'. It was even more curious than he had been led to believe - a mix of things and places, styles, smells, colours. A little bit of everything.

It was quite the enthusiasm that Harold stepped over the threshold, to the sound of a delicate tinkling bell. Harold smiled... it seemed to him that such things were rather on the wane, when a shopkeeper could be notified magically of a new customer.

He couldn't immediately see the proprietor of this frankly delightful little store - but one thing caught his eye, and he broke into a broad smile. "A kasa-obake! I've heard about them, but never actually seen one in, well, the flesh!"

It suddenly occurred to him that while he knew the name of the animated umbrella, he had never heard the name spoken out loud - and that his Japanese pronunciation may not be entirely on point. Where was the owner? Perhaps out back? Perhaps a view obscured by the rather intricate number of mirrors the place seemed to have. He didn't want to intrude, but he knew that mirrors were always a curious thing to be careful with.

[Dhanya Raveendran]

Galen had seen her in his reflection? That felt significant and explained why he had asked her to take a look. What was surprising to her was that he actually admitted to it. In Dhanya's estimation this was exactly the kind of detail Galen would prefer to keep to himself. Was he finally starting to open up properly? She gave him a warm smile and gestured for Galen to keep talking. She was sure that there was more detail to explore here. They'd both seen a garden. Was it the same one? Did that mean anything? And then of course there was the fact that she had seen him too. Maybe that was a clue that their fates were somehow connected.

Before her friend could say anything though the doorbell chimed and a customer stepped inside. Talk about timing! Dhanya turned to see a British gentlemen in his forties step inside. Why he was out and about on a rainy day like this was anyone's guess. He didn't seem to have gotten wet and almost immediately seemed to be drawn to the kasa-obake. He even seemed to know what it was he was looking at, though Dhanya quickly decided he couldn't have much first hand knowledge of them.

"I wouldn't stand so close," Dhanya offered the man emerging from behind the mirrors, her cup of chai in hand. "Did you know that kasa-obake can shake themselves dry within mere split-seconds." Just as Dhanya said the words, Doldori stretched its ribs, then opened and closed a couple of times. Water splashed everywhere. Thankfully none of Galen's precious books had been soaked, though the same could not be said of the customer.

"You might want to bring a towel, Galen." she commented as she produced her mango wood wand to vanish the water on the ground. Turning to the customer she looked a little contrite. "I'm sorry, Sir. I tried to warn you, but it seems I wasn't quite in time. Mr Yardley will be with you in just a moment."

She sauntered over to one of the shelves and pulled out one of the books Galen had on offer. She probably should have headed back to her own shop, but she was keen to continue her conversation with Galen. It had felt like they were uncovering something meaningful and Galen had even been willing to open up a little. That didn't happen all that often.

[Galen Yardley]

The bell chimed. Galen wasn't sure if he had been saved by the clock before things got more awkward or if he had just been interrupted in a significant moment. Could it be both. Sitting with her back to the door he half-turned to see that a gentlemen was coming inside, followed by an ever-cheerful rain-soaked Doldori. Who let a kasa-obake back inside during rainy weather. He was just about to say something when Dhanya, quick as ever, beat him to the punch.

Regardless, it was too late. Galen dutifully popped into the back room to retrieve a towel and moment later came face to face with the customer. "There you go, Sir." He held the towel out to Harold for him to take.

It was only now that Galen realised he knew the man in front of him. Wasn't that Pritchard from Mysteries? The poor chap had been the talk of the town a good couple of months back. Something about marital troubles. Galen couldn't quite get it back together in his head.

Oh Merlin, he was probably staring. Galen quickly averted his gaze and tried to look neutral. The man in front of him hadn't met this face or this persona before, but another. When Galen visited the ministry he was usually blond and went by the name Thompson. And it was Thompson who had met Pritchard, not him. He would just have to pretend that he didn't recognise the man and that they were talking for the first time.

Experience had taught him that there was no reason to worry. There was no way the other man could recognise him with his current face. During his early days working for the ministry, Galen had often worried when he ran into somebody who had encountered one of his legends, one of his fabricated identities. What If somebody recognised his voice or mannerisms? There days he knew that people believed what they wanted to be believe, and that nobody thought of themselves as easily deceived. Galen still didn't like these crossings of streams, but he'd since learned to take them with a sense of humour. In fact, it almost didn't matter how obvious he was, people never suspected anything.

He held out his hand to take back the towel whenever the other man was ready.

"I'm really sorry for the inconvenience, Sir. Is there anything I can help you with today? I'll give you a ten percent discount." Galen didn't mind being generous, and in truth he rather liked Pritchard. He was a proper English gentleman with pleasant manners, well tailored clothes and a respectable profession. In many ways he embodied everything Galen wanted to be but for various reasons could never achieve. That engendered a sense of respect and admiration, even if the matter with the wife was rather unfortunate.

[Harold Prendergast]

Truth be told, Harold had been sufficiently delighted by the intrigue of the kasa-obake that he hadn't heard any warnings to not stand--

"Oh my!" The kasa-obake had had other ideas. It was perhaps odd that it did not occur to him that an umbrella that had been playing in the rain might rather decide it preferred not to have such rain on it after all. Or that it might be amused to share it with a stranger.

Oh well, the suit would dry out rather soon enough - and he did have further errands to run so it was quite possible he would have gotten wet anyway.

The petite woman before him was offering an apology - she had tried to warn him but in his own enthusiasm he hadn't partaken - and noted that Mr Yardley, presumably the proprietor of this establishment, would be along presently.

Just as he was pondering which incantation he might use to dry himself off, Yardley himself appeared, offering a towel. "Thank you, that's rather quite generous of you." He dabbed it mostly at his face, glasses and waistcost - the jacket and trousers would sort themselves out quite by themselves.

He handed the towel back with more thanks, before pushing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. "In truth I had heard about this delightful establishment from a colleague of mine, and I was passing and thought I would venture in. The offer of a discount is most generous," Harold paused, with a slightly mournful look on his face, "but I couldn't possibly; your kasa-obake was simply stretching, at least I think that's what they were doing, and I happened to get in the way. My fault entirely - one should not stand near an animated umbrella that has been playing in the rain!" As he had continued, his expression has perked up, the joy of seeing something new far outweighing the minor inconvenience of a light soaking.

He noticed that the woman had a book in her hand, and a fleeting sense of wanting to be somewhere other than this conversation. "If you were in the middle of something, please don't let me keep you, I am quite something of a browser, and I rather fancy I shan't know what I am looking for until such times as I have found it - I daresay I could lose an entire afternoon or more to all the intricacies you have on display here." He paused, trying not to adopt too bashful a tone. "Though if you have any tomes on the latest research in arithmancy I should appreciate that as a first stop on seeing all the wonderful things you have here."

[Galen Yardley]

"Oh, please," Galen started to reassure charmingly, "it's not like we're having anything to do in this weather. Miss Raveendran came over from next door to pass the time." He gave Dhanya a careful look as he said those words. There was so much hanging in the air unsaid, but he hoped that she would find her answers in his gaze. They'd talk later when they were on their own again. Their mirror wasn't going anywhere and its mysteries could wait for another ten minutes.

"So theoretical magic you said? Arcane physics?" He smiled. Of course a Mystery Man would ask for something like that. Who knew what they did down there in their little chambers? He'd been in and out one of them for an assignment and he wasn't keen to repeat the experience. The Hall of Prophecy was a creepy place, filled with fear and anxious superstition. Being tasked with preventing an undesirable outcome had been harrowing and he very much felt the effort had been futile.

"Any particular area of study I should be looking for?" His words were mere ritual as his fingers were already travelling along a shelf to his left. "How about this?" He handed Harold a well-used leather bound book that wasn't new by any stretch of the imagination. "Professor Cenwig Cowell's 'Ars Arithmantica'. This is an original 1841 edition. I know, I know hardly the latest, but just you wait until you get to chapter seven. His work on the thaumaturgical nature on ectoplasm is fascinating. Did you know that he came from a long line of wizards who all remained as ghosts? It's such compelling reading."

He paused and pulled another book from the shelf. "Or how about this one here? Jaracas, Justyne. Speech and Symbols in Magic. Haven't sold a single copy of this one and I have two more in stock. Just published earlier this year, but I suppose her work is a little out there. If you make it to chapter four you'll be awed by her insights into arcanolinguistics and the relationship between spell, symbol and incantation. She's done research in Scottish, English and some extinct wizarding languages."

Something told him that this one wasn't right either. "Oh, I think I know. 'Favourable Outcome Quotients' by Lochlan Scrivenshaft." He reached for a book higher up on the shelf bound in peacock blue linen. "A very comprehensive work on the mathematical underpinnings of time travel. Honestly the numbers do get away from you a bit and definitely not suitable to beginners, but fascinating."

He held the stack of his selections out to Harold to have a look at each and form his own opinion.

[Dhanya Raveendran]

Dhanya tried to zone out as Galen attended to the customer. She didn't like it much, but business was business and surviving in Diagon wasn't all that easy. She'd wondered on occasion how Galen seemed to stay afloat. 'The Lost Chapter' had never seen a lot of footfall, but lately it had been seemingly even fewer customers than when she'd still worked for Galen. He seemed unconcerned, though Dhanya was sure it were his notions of gentlemanly conduct that kept her fiend from complaining about it rather than anything else.

Galen did his usual song and dance of detailed and outlandish recommendations, one quirkier than the last. Just how he found the time to read all the books he sold she would never understand. He just seemed to have an endless desire to read about new things.

Scrivenshaft. Really? She remembered that name and some of his publications. Aside from being a published author he was also a regular at Galen's shop. She'd read one of his books, though it hadn't been on the subject of arithmancy. She couldn't help herself, and slowly turned towards the two men.

"Well if you're contemplating Scrivenshaft I think his novels are better than his nonfiction. I would suggest picking up 'Faded'. It's a story about time travel." She looked at her friend pointedly. "Galen, please tell me you have a copy here to show to your customer."

She started looking at the spines of the books and pulled out another volume. "I'd recommend this one." Unlike Galen she didn't offer an explanation as to why and how it was relevant to the customer's search. Surely, he'd figure it out by himself just based on the title. "Love and Death. Magical Links Examined."

[Harold Prendergast]

There was almost something too eager in the manner in which the shopkeeper and his... friend? His assistant? Whichever... the way this young woman seemed to be trying to assist. It struck Harold as though they would prefer him to leave.

"I do hope I am not intruding; I can come back later if it should be more convenient?" But his curiosity in all of the books suggested was winning out over his sense of gentlemanly conduct, and it was probably noticeable.

"But you do have the most intriguing suggestions." He adjusted his glasses. "An 1841 Ars Arithmantica? I should have thought of all of Cowell's tomes, there weren't any copies of the 1841 editon left, not even in the hands of collectors? A rare find indeed." And, thought Harold, 'coming home with me'. He wasn't ordinarily possessive per se, though he did rather enjoy collecting physical copies of tomes rather than doing research in some musty library, and unless the price were outlandish... he may have just tipped his hand in enthusiasm, but money wasn't everything.

He thought about the next suggestion, "Speech and Symbols in Magic", and had to remark that, "Well, speech and symbology isn't really my field of expertise, though I daresay the resident Hogwarts librarian might have a thing or two to say on the subject, as she is rather fond of make use of runes."

He frowned, "From your description it almost sounds like some of the points raised by Miller in her work on comparing the styles of our magic with practised voodoo in the Americas, and some of her observations about their similarities despite the vastly different cultures." Harold hadn't intended to engage like that, but Miller's book had intrigued him on the subject, and he liked that Miller was a newer author unafraid of challenging the academic orthodoxy.

The name Scrivenshaft seemed somehow familiar, like someone he might have met at a conference. It had been a while since he'd been to one of those. He arched an eyebrow. "Time travel, you say? To me that's the pinnacle of scientific application of arithmancy, and I've long believed we can do more interesting things than time turners." He let himself smile enthusiastically. It's easy to say you believe something when you already know it to be true, after all. And if the man had also written some fiction, well that would no doubt be splendid to enjoy over a lovely cup of keemun.

The last one, suggested by Miss Raveendran had appeal, but less for himself. The title seemed entirely apt for something that might intrigue Msaed, especially if it might offer some thoughts on what to make of Bonnie.

"You've both been so helpful, really quite marvellous... I'd like to take all of them, please." He kept muttering how splendid the service was. He would be recommending this place to Msaed and Rose when he got back to Hogwarts. He was sure at the very least the tales of an umbrella creature would be sure to amuse.