Back For Good [Adeline]

[Vincent Mathis]

The weight of London settled differently than V remembered.

Six years was a long time to be away from a place that had never quite felt like home to begin with, but standing at the entrance to Diagon Alley; properly standing there, not hunched and trying to take up less space. Vincent Mathis found himself actually looking forward to walking those cobblestones again. Chicago had been good to him. Chicago had given him room to breathe, to build himself into someone he could actually stand to see in the mirror. But there was something about coming back that felt like closing a circle he hadn't known was still open.

He adjusted the strap of the leather messenger bag slung across his chest and stepped into the flow of foot traffic, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. The late afternoon sun caught on the ink visible at his collar, the edge of something intricate that disappeared beneath the fitted black henley he wore. His hair; longer now, dirty blond curls pulled back in a short ponytail shifted as he tilted his head back to take in the familiar shopfronts.

Some things hadn't changed. Ollivanders still stood with its peeling gold letters. Flourish & Blotts still had stacks of books visible through its windows. But there were new shops too, spaces that had been rebuilt or repurposed in the aftermath of the war. Scaffolding still clung to one building like skeletal fingers, a reminder that healing took time. V had a mental list: potion ingredients he couldn't get stateside, a few specific books, maybe check in at the apothecary about restocking his personal supplies. Practical things. Mundane things. The kind of things that didn't require him to explain to anyone why he was back or what he'd been doing with himself.

He paused outside Slug & Jiggers Apothecary, eyes scanning the window display of crystallized porcupine quills and carefully labeled jars. Through the glass, he could see the shop was moderately busy; witches and wizards browsing the shelves, the shopkeeper measuring out something that smoked faintly purple. For a moment, just a moment, that old instinct flickered. The one that said keep your head down, don't draw attention, make yourself smaller.

V rolled his shoulders back, felt the fabric of his shirt pull across muscle that hadn't existed the last time he'd walked this street, and pushed the door open. The bell chimed overhead, bright and clear. He belonged here just as much as anyone else.
The shop smelled like it always had: dried herbs and something vaguely sulfuric, underneath notes of wood and parchment. V moved toward the back where the rarer ingredients were kept, his boots quiet on the worn wooden floor. He was scanning the shelves, looking for essence of dittany, when he felt it.

That prickle of awareness. Someone's attention, landing on him and staying.

[Adeline Green]

It had been a bit of time since Adeline had been in Diagon Alley herself, having been running her shop in Hogsmeade, but even she had things she had to come and buy. It was always like going on a little adventure, though she wouldn't know how to do so discreetly if it bit her.

She was looking for supplies for a new type of paint she wanted to try to make, which had her little basket on her arm full of little bottles and jars that were clinking together as she moved about the apothecary in her bright, floral-patterned gown, her hair pulled back in a bun, but with a flowery hair stick peeking out of it. She was humming to herself, largely unconcerned about the people around her, looking over the different items on the shelf, seeming to really consider each one, hand to her mouth as she thought.

She glanced over as she heard the jingle of the bell at the door, which broke her thought process for the moment, and she started to look back before doing a double-take at the figure who'd come in. He looked familiar, but... he'd certainly changed since she'd seen him last. "Vincent?" she asked as she approached, not entirely sure she was correct. "Sorry if I'm wrong, you just look like someone I remember," she said with a good-natured laugh, waving her hand, "You might not remember me, too, oh hum, I should have thought that through more," she put her hand to her cheek realizing she'd made this entire thing awkward, "Sorry," she said again, "I'm Adeline, you were only in your second year at Hogwarts when I was finishing up, so this is probably really weird," she made a face that said this was not the first time she'd sort of helped herself to a conversation only to realize maybe she was being a bit forward,"Might remember me from having to clean off my messes from the ceiling of potions? Usually bright colors cause I couldn't help myself," she laughed a little, "Uh... well, how have you been?" she asked.

She'd started the conversation; might as well be polite and keep talking. That was the polite option, right? Sometimes she wasn't sure if it was truly polite or just her optimism and desire to make friends. She'd always been a social butterfly, clearly the type of girl who had never been told she wasn't able to be friends with someone, and wanted to try to be friends with everyone.

[Vincent Mathis]

V turned at the sound of his name, and for a split second that old defensive tension tried to creep up his spine; the instinct that said what do they want, what did I do wrong before his brain caught up with what he was actually seeing.
Adeline.

Adeline.

Bright as a damn sunrise even in the dim lighting of the apothecary, floral dress and all, looking exactly like he remembered except older, more confident in a way that seemed to just radiate off her. The kind of person who'd never learned to dim herself for anyone else's comfort, and Christ, he'd forgotten how rare that was.

The smile that broke across his face was genuine, reaching all the way to his eyes as recognition clicked fully into place. "No, you're… you're absolutely right," he said, his voice carrying that low rumble that still sometimes surprised him when he heard it. Six years of actually using it, of not swallowing every word before it could leave his mouth, had changed even that. "It's me. And yeah, I remember you, Adeline...Right?"

How could he not? Adeline Green who'd turned the Potions classroom ceiling magenta one memorable afternoon, and who'd apologized so profusely to Professor Snape that even he had looked exhausted by the sincerity of it. Who'd been kind to the awkward second-year who mostly just tried to blend into the dungeon walls.

"The purple one was my favorite, I think," V added, shifting his weight so he was facing her properly, one hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck in a gesture that was equal parts sheepish and amused. "Third year? You were trying to make something that was supposed to turn things invisible and instead it just made everything smell like lilacs for a week."

He glanced down at himself at the visible ink crawling up his forearms where his sleeves were pushed back, at the way he actually took up space now instead of trying to fold in on himself then back up at her with something self-aware in his expression. "I, uh. Yeah, I've changed a bit since then. Been in Chicago the last six years, just moved back a couple weeks ago."

The basket on her arm was clinking with bottles, and he caught sight of some of the labels. Interesting combination. "Paint supplies?" he guessed, because that seemed like exactly the kind of thing Adeline would be doing. "How've you been? Still making colorful disasters, or did you finally convince potions to behave?"

[Adeline Green]

The second V smiled, all the nervousness Adeline had evaporated. Not only was she right, but he was happy to see her. Even better! She laughed with delight at his comment that the purple one was his favorite. "I much prefer to make things prettier than to hide them away," she said, as if it were the defense she'd probably given when she was lectured for said incident. Though with a smile and a laugh rather than the panicked apologies that came every time something exploded in class.

"You look well, I did wonder where you'd end up," She smiled, looking at him in full now. He definitely had, what was the saying? A glow up? Not that physical things had ever been something Adeline focused on, but even she had to notice he was rather attractive. She looked back up to his face, not wanting to seem like she was being shallow, before raising her basket at his guess.

"Indeed!" she beamed as he asked if she was still making colorful disasters, "Oh! I've got a lovely little shop in Hogsmeade now! I sell art supplies and try to help some people find their creative sides," she was clearly excited by the opportunities, "And it's also given me a chance to keep trying experiments with new kinds of paints. I have a room in the back of the store just for those, though, so that if things do explode, it doesn't mess up the store," she said the last part with her hand up to the side of her mouth like she was telling a secret, then laughed again softly.

She motioned to his tattoos, "You found your own form of artistic expression! Do they have meanings behind them?" she asked curiously then gave a little squeak as someone bumped into her trying to get by, grumbling about her being in the middle of the walkway, "Oh so sorry!" she made a face before stepping to be a bit more out of the way, holding her basket a little closer as if it might somehow also still be in the way, "You would think I'd learned to pay attention to my surroundings by now," she gave a little self-deprecating laugh, her hand going to the scar on her chin that went under her jaw. A bit more of a physical lesson about being mindful than getting bumped in the store. "Anyways, your awesome tattoos!" she clapped her hands together as if the act banished the negative of the moment.

[Vincent Mathis]

V's expression softened watching her light up talking about her shop. There was something almost protective in the way he tracked the person who'd bumped into her; blue-grey eyes going sharp for just a second before the guy disappeared down another aisle but he didn't comment on it. Just shifted his position slightly so he was angled in a way that gave them both a little more space, his frame naturally creating a buffer against the flow of traffic.

"Hogsmeade," he repeated, and there was genuine warmth in his voice. "That's perfect for you. I can absolutely picture it: lots of color everywhere, probably organized in a way that makes sense only to you, right?" The corner of his mouth quirked up. "And smart, having the explosion room. Learning from experience." When she motioned to his tattoos, his whole demeanor shifted in a way that was subtle but unmistakable. Not closed off, but engaged. Like she'd just asked him about something he actually wanted to talk about, not something he was bracing to defend.

"They do, yeah," V said, rolling his left forearm up so she could see more of the intricate work—geometric patterns that wove into something more organic, symbols that might've been runes or might've been purely decorative, it was hard to tell where one ended and another began. "The whole thing's kind of a... story, I guess? Started getting them done about four years ago. Some of it's covering old scars, some of it's just..." he paused, trying to find the right words. "Reclaiming space. Deciding what I want people to see when they look at me instead of just... whatever they assumed."

He caught the way her hand had gone to that scar on her chin, the self-deprecating laugh that didn't quite match the careful way she held her basket now. His expression gentled. "You're fine," he said, easy and matter-of-fact. "That guy was being a prick. You're allowed to exist in a public space and have a conversation." There was something in his tone: not aggressive, but firm. The voice of someone who'd spent a long time learning he didn't have to apologize for taking up room in the world.

V glanced down at the basket again, then back up at her face. "Listen, I've got a few more things to grab here, but... are you busy after this? Could grab coffee or something, catch up properly? I've been back a couple weeks and you're literally the first familiar face who hasn't looked at me like I'm a ghost or they're trying to figure out if they should know me." The admission came easier than he'd expected, but this was Adeline. She'd been kind when kindness wasn't exactly flowing freely in his direction. That counted for something.

"Plus," he added, a hint of that boyish charm creeping into his smile, "I want to hear more about this explosion room. Sounds like you've got some stories."

[Adeline Green]

Adeline laughed a little at his question about organization, "It was kind of haphazard, but I had a student staying with me for a while that helped me organize it in a way that students can follow," she shrugged a little, as if she just didn't get it. How he responded when she talked about his tattoos made her smile again, like she was glad she found something he enjoyed talking about, too. She leaned in a bit to look at his arm, her hand hovering like she wanted to follow the pattern, but she didn't touch him, not wanting to be invasive of his personal space.

His comment about being allowed to exist made her flush a little, mostly because he was so firm about it. She was kind of used to being side-eyed in these kinds of places because her bright colors were always out of place. She didn't understand why everyone here felt the need to dress so drab. Hearing his question seemed to make her realize she'd abruptly stopped his shopping, "Oh, right!" She put her hand to her chest apologetically, but then looked surprised that he wanted to talk more. Most of the time, her conversations ended in polite dismissals of people who had more to do than have her talk their ear off about painting.

"I'd love to," she smiled, "There's this little place not far from here, they serve pretty good coffee, tea, and snacks, The Curious Chimera?" she phrased it as a question, not sure if he knew the place she was talking about. It had only been open for a few years after all, "I'll go ahead and pay for this before the owner thinks I'm trying to just steal all this, and I can wait outside. And do I ever have stories, but I can't wait to hear some of yours, too," she smiled at him, seeming quite delighted that they were going to keep talking.

Addie was rather used to people not wanting her in a space because she was too loud or too bright, so she frequently apologized, but after what happened that earned her scars, she wasn't going to stop being in the space just because she apologized. Life was too short and too fragile to let other people dictate what rooms you could stand in. She just apologized for the discomfort others might have because she wasn't leaving.

"See you outside~" she trilled before heading over towards the counter, though she did get distracted by something bright on the way over, adding it to the basket before she reached the shop owner. He seemed plenty pleased to see her, unlike the guy who'd grouched at her before, probably because she was a frequent and well-paying customer. After all, her experiments needed supplies, and unless she knew she needed something for a product, she didn't order it to the shop directly. No sense in getting a lot of something that might go to waste while she determines its uses.

With her products purchased, she slipped outside, examining the last-minute grab while she waited outside the shop for V, clearly not in a hurry or anything herself.