Standing Through Storms

He hadn't even intended to, but somehow Toby had managed to find Diagon Alley. He'd only ever been there once that he could remember, his eighth birthday. That was years ago, but it felt like so much longer. The day had been full of laughs, ice-cream, his loving mum... his sister. Face folding into a scowl, the teenager kicked at the cobblestone and continued his sedate pace.

It was late, he could tell that by the darkness covering the street. The sun wasn't quite set, but almost. That, at least, explained why the place was so much more empty than he'd remembered it. More than half of the storefronts were dark, and a quiet rumble reminded Toby that he hadn't had a proper meal in almost two days. Granted, he had spent more of that time in the forest, and the boy was nothing if not competent at locating food among the wildlife, but it wasn't quite the same.

As if the weather could sense his morbid thoughts, drops of water began to fall from the sky. Tipping his head back so that the water splashed onto his face, the werewolf allowed the rain to soak his dirty clothes. Brain automatically thinking of the mud fight he'd had with his packmates last rainfall, Toby didn't even try to prevent the single salty tear from falling down his cheek.

'Forecasters continue to remind our magical friends in the London area to beware the oncoming thunderstorm. Heavy lightning prevents the use of brooms, and apparation is ill advised in the winds approaching. If you need to travel, Floo is the way to go. This is Stormy Whitecloud, signing out.' 

'And now, some Colin Cornell to soothe all of those nestled at home, with his latest hit, 'Veela-like Spell.' 

'Oh, you... you have me under a spell...'

The radio just seemed to fit the weather. Jack was the last in Wheezes, for it had been a slow day and she had decided to close up shop on her own. Sunny and Max were at home, and she was finishing putting the excess money in the safe, before turning to grab some cleaning supplies. The windows were in dire need of attention.

A thunder boom rolled across the sky as Jack cleaned the windows, reflecting on the long day of business. She cleared away some crime as a bolt of lightning illuminated the dark alley. She could see a figure in the dark. She paused, and another bolt of lightning confirmed that a youngster was out in the rain. Jack quickly went to the door, pulling it open. Wind gusted inside as she called, "Oi! Get inside!"

The rain was pounding down onto his face. Toby had his head titled back so far that his neck was starting to ache, but the way that the raindrops were constantly hitting his face like little wet pinpricks made it worth it. All Toby had been feeling for two days was aches. His head ached, his muscles protested, and he could have been stabbed through the heart without realizing something was amiss. But the way that the tiny drops of water pounded against his face was different. Each drop left a tiny sting in its wake, and it brought Toby's mind away from the only thing he'd been able to think about prior to the storm.

The teenager could hear the thunder, and flashes of light through his closed eyelids that couldn't be anything by lightning. His clothes were heavy, having long absorbed all the water that the fabric was capable of holding. An unexpected shudder forced its way down Toby's spine, but the boy refused to truly shiver.

A voice shocked the boy out of his stupor. Turning and opening his eyes against the downpour, Toby identified the figure as a woman from inside one of the stores. Blinking for a moment, the werewolf started to lumber towards the open door. If he had needed to fight the strong wind, the teen would have struggled, but the wind was instead pushing Toby in the direction of the woman, as if Toby was a doll to be swept around. Considering his bulk, the wind had to be pretty strong. The boy momentarily wondered how his Pack would be doing in the conditions. Biting the inside of his mouth so hard that it bled, the teenager was forced to remind himself that it was no longer his business. After everything, the blond was still unable to stop thinking of the groups as his Pack, as much as the words pained him every time they ran through his brain.

"Thanks," he mumbled to the woman as he stumbled through the door. Upon further inspection, the woman appeared to be fairly young, and sporting some impressively red hair. Toby's eyes automatically strayed to the muscular arm of the person holding the door open, and internally mused what a seemingly average witch would need such strength for.

Jack watched as the boy stumbled forward, a pinprick of pity striking her heart. Sure, chances were this was just another angsty teenager fleeing parents for no rightful reason. But, Jack had been a pretty lone teenager too. She had rarely gone home, preferring to flit between any house that would take her in. So, she understood when there were young people on their own. It was hard to keep from empathizing.

He approached and she reached out to steady him. She closed the door firmly behind him and placed a maternal arm around his shoulders, firmly steering him towards the back room. "Come on, it's ridiculously warm back here." She flicked her wand and his clothes steamed dry. 

She led him into the room where her niece and Vivianna Varnes had made potions and she quickly conjured a plush armchair, a blanket draped over it. She gestured towards it and said, "Sit down, relax." Thunder boomed. She walked over to a small kitchenette and began to prepare a kettle of tea. She looked back at him. "What in Merlin's name are you doing out in a storm like this? You'll die of hypothermia!"

Toby almost flinched away when the woman reached out to steady him, but the teenager managed to remain mostly still. The slight jerk he made could have easily been brushed off as a shiver, and the teenager figured that the witch had probably assumed as much. Toby refused to look her in the eyes, he didn't want to know what emotions where held there. Would the redhead look at him with disapproval, curiosity, pity? He didn't want to know. The werewolf also didn't want to know what the witch would see in his own eyes. Would she be able to spot his pain, his heartbreak, his loathing?

But then she wrapped her arm around him. Toby didn't know what he was supposed to do in that moment. He hadn't felt the touch of anyone non-pack for years. It was odd, unusual. The male had reached the point where he was able to identify every member of his pack just by the feel of their hands or touch. This woman, felt both like and unlike his ex-packmates at the same time. The firm muscles were there, the unhesitant touch, but everything else was new. She didn't smell like the earth, or hold herself the way the Pack did. So, when she began to steer him further into the store, the teenager allowed her to.

The boy blinked in shock as she casually dried his clothes, the fabric now feeling warm against his skin. The woman said something welcoming about warmth, but the werewolf wasn't paying attention well enough to know exactly what was spoken. With a precise flick of her wand, a soft armchair appeared out of nowhere and the redhead gestured towards it with a few more kind words.  

Toby had only just lowered himself into the armchair when the witch glanced back at him. And there it was, the questions, things he didn't want to answer. The male felt the sudden urge to yell, to let out all the anger that was simmering in wait underneath his sadness. Knowing just how bad of an idea that was, the teenager refrained himself and just shrugged. "Thanks," Toby added, voice deep and slight scratchy as he addressed the witch for the first time.

((OOC: I'm sorry, I'm not trying to make them long, Toby just has too many emotions right now. Oh, and I loved the mention of Viv.)

((It's all good. It's helping my muse!))

Jack was not unaccustomed to stealing people off of the streets to welcome them into her protection. The bad habit had started when she worked as Head of the Department for Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures. She would come across werewolves, mostly, who were in need of a safe place, or a place to rest before or after the full moon. It was always the werewolves - first, because she specialized in werewolves, and secondly, because they were typically the least proud of all the turned humans. 

Jack pulled out a misshapen mug and plucked the kettle off of the stove, pouring the tea into it and walking forward to the boy. She stood right before him held out the mug for him. "Special recipe courtesy of some healer friends. It should pick you right up."

She remained right before him, her penetrating gaze quickly taking in little things about him. His clothes were worse for the wear, he looked pale, tired, and a little shrunken, as though he didn't quite have enough food in him. She quirked an eyebrow. "What's your name?"

Toby accepted the cup without a word and stared down at the liquid. Tea, the woman had told him. He wasn't sure exactly what was meant by "special recipe", did that mean it was spiked with a potion? Or was the tea just a herbal mixture of some kind? The teenager supposed that it didn't really matter. Watching the steam spiraling upwards, the werewolf brought the liquid to his mouth.

The tea burned his lips and tongue, but Toby didn't really care. It was warm, and tasted nice, that was all the boy cared about. The blond didn't look anywhere but his mug, aware of the eyes that were sizing him up. It took the woman speaking to make Toby lift his head, no longer hypnotized by the patterns created by the rising steam.

"Toby," the teenager replied shortly, glancing at the witch's face for the brief moment that it took for his lips to form the sound. The muscular figure didn't even think about uttering his surname. He hadn't truly been a Cooper since that full moon all those years ago. Besides, there was always a chance that the redhead knew his mother. Or his sister. Toby wasn't willing to risk that, not yet.

((This one's a bit shorter, I was on a time constraint, I just saw that you replied and couldn't help myself.))

He took the tea without a fuss, for which she was glad. Her Healer friend had given her the recipe, which sort of imitated the benefits of a Pepper Up Potion, though not nearly as quickly nor as thoroughly as the original potion did. However, she supposed a youngster soaked to the bone such as the one before her would appreciate any warmth that could be gleamed, regardless of how slowly it spread.

She regarded him curiously, wondering what had brought him here. Jack rubbed her chin, turning away as she picked up her own mug of tea, bringing it to her chin, but not drinking. She pressed the rounded side of the mug to her chin as she considered the boy's place in her store.

She turned, setting down the mug. She looked at the boy. "Alright, Toby. I'm Jack Dyllan. Do you know who I am?" Most did. Anyone with interest in politics or in creature rights knew her as a Department Head who hadn't run business well, but had made significant strides towards equality, despite public opposition. Troublemakers knew her for her shop. Criminals knew her from Knockturn. Quidditch buffs knew her for her team. She didn't know what her name meant to others, but it also meant they could be sure she had no room to do anything uncertain with her name out there. "I'd like to help you out if I could. I need to know what the hell you're doing wandering around in a storm on your own."

((It's all good. Sorry about my own. I'm sleepy. xD ))

((I'm going with Toby not knowing of her. While the Pack adults probably would, Toby wouldn't have cared about politics.))

Bloody hell. She'd asked him if he recognized her name. That wasn't good. It meant that she was famous in some way or another. Fame meant power, and power meant that she would be able to track down his name, history, or family without much effort.

"Um, I vaguely recognize your name, but have no clue who you are," Toby lied without hesitation. He was usually an honest enough guy, but there were exceptions to every rule. The teenager had never heard the name in his life, that he could remember. It was possible he had as a child, but being isolated from normal Wizarding society for years could cause one to forget a name or two.  The teenager chose to take a sip from the mug then, needing the extra few seconds to come up with a viable story. There was no need for him to tell a practical stranger every bloody detail of his miserable life.

"My adoptive family kicked me out," Toby admitted finally, eyes shining with pain. It gave Jack enough information to understand his situation, without him going out and admitting the two things that might cause this witch to throw him back out into the street. This Dyllan woman had been right, it was warm inside the building, and he really didn't want to be forced back into the howling wind.

Jack waited, for the boy was full of what seemed to be hesitation and even fear, it seemed. The boy was not super young, nothing close to her beloved niece, but something about him seemed very small, very in need of some sort of care or protection. Part of her wanted to kneel before him to get up close so she could look into his face to see what lied behind his young eyes. But Jack was not one to get up and close with people. Distance was good.

He had been thrown out, then. She let out a bit of a sigh. "Alright, Toby. Look - I was a head in the Ministry back when it wasn't full of cheats and liars." Okay, it had been, but she hadn't been one of them. "I'm a bit used to helping people out in these situations. But I have to know why they kicked you out. I promise, I'll help, but I need to know."