The One Errand No One Else Does

She looked... overdressed. It was the beginning of July and yet she was bundled into a pair of designer dress slacks, a starched white button-up shirt, an emerald green robe, and a light weight black cloak. If anyone thought that Ciar was absolutely stifled in her clothing they would be right.

"The things I go through to make impressions," the teen muttered under her breath as she made her way into the bookstore in Port Durmstrang. She had an appointment at Gringott's later that afternoon and was dressed to impress. It had been almost two years since her parents had been killed and she was still cleaning up their messes. Especially her father's. That didn't matter at the moment though. She was at the shop for a very specific reason.

Knocking on the counter in the back which housed the till Ciar drew the attention of the shopkeeper. Wordlessly he set a thick package, wrapped in acid-free brown paper on the wooden surface and in exchange the Irish teen pulled out a narrow slip of parchment, similar in design to a Muggle cheque.

Pushing it across the wood towards the man she practically ordered, "Enter the amount and don't try and cheat me, Ovetchkin." Once he had done so Ciar signed it and tapped her wand to it, completing the transaction.

Taking the package under her arm she held it tightly against her body as she began to peruse the shelves, seeing if any rare or interesting books had come in that she was unaware of. There was one errand that she alone did, and that was picking up books for her families private library.

Afonka chewed absentmindedly on the inside of his cheek, scanning the bookshelves. Any other person would've given up searching by now, but Afonka had long since stopped being any other person.

He was going to find this book. Even if it killed him. Well, maybe that was a little much. He didn't think he wanted his cause of death to be: book searching.

A little smirk flitting across his face at the thought, he moved onto the next row of books. The smirk faded away, his brown eyes stopping on the older girl. For a moment, it looked like he was about to say something, but instead he moved away, disappearing to the other side of the shelf.

He couldn't face her. He didn't want to. It was so much easier to pretend Ciar Whelan didn't exist.

Eyes scanning over the shelf like a hawk stalking its prey the girl took no notice, at least physical notice, of the boy in the same proximity as her. She knew he was there, of course, her years of training kicking in automatically. One of the rare originals of "Ptolemy's Geographia" was tucked securely under her arm in its paper and she had just come across a first edition of "The Brothers Karamazov" in Russian and added it under her arm with the other book. It would make good reading material for Zephan when he was a bit older.

Completely ignoring the other person as she wandered to the next aisle over after finishing the shelves she was on Ciar stuck her free hand in her pocket in an almost bored manner. Pickpocketing wasn't a skill that most people learned but the teen had learned that it could be used in other ways as well.

Brushing by Afonka as she moved past him her nimble fingers moved from her pocket and dropped a sickle sized pin into his pocket before returning to the confines of her pocket in the blink of an eye. She moved casually to the next aisle and contemplated seeing if the second floor had anything to offer as well. Ciar kept her mind from wandering to the Whelan crest pin she had dropped into the boy's pocket. In reality after how he acted she shouldn't even still be trying to help him but he had accepted her protection once under the banner of House Whelan. She felt obligated and duty bound to continue in her indenture, even if he didn't want it.

In an attempt to look and feel natural, he began to look at the books in front of him, staring blankly at the titles. Focus Alkaev, just ... stay calm. Nodding to himself, he took a deep breath. This was for Roman, he reminded himself. He was doing this for his best friend.

Continuing to nod as he made his way through the books, he glanced up every few moments at Ciar, shuffling his feet. Blinking up as she made her way into his aisle, he glanced around him rapidly, wondering if he could move fast enough to escape her sight. But there was no way he could. She'd probably already seen him.

If she spoke to him, then he'd be civil. Of course he would. She wasn't Sokol. She deserved it. She was nice to him, but her views on the world...

Afonka frowned. These days, the entire world seemed to be against him. Why not people as well? It would easily make sense. What if she decided to -

He watched her walk right past him. His mouth forming an O, he blinked in surprise, his hands sinking into his pockets. Pulling out his right hand with a little yelp, he blinked at the unwelcome pain, watching the blood begin to trickle down his hand. Frowning, he reached into his pocket gingerly, pulling out the offending pin.

For a moment he just stared at it, the gears in his head whirring. Carefully closing his fingers around it, he looked back towards the dark-haired girl, his feet already moving towards her. "Ciar?" he called out, hardly noticing that his hands were shaking. "Um, hey."

She couldn't help the small smirk that crossed her features as she heard the yelp as she was just about start browsing the next aisle over, the one directly across the small corridor between the shelves. It seemed that he had found her little token. She waited her fingers of her free hand sliding over the spines of the leather bound books seemingly perusing the selection.

A hint of a smile graced her features as she heard Afro call her name. Ciar quickly schooled her expression into one of neutrality before turning to face the boy.

"Afonka. To what do I owe the pleasure," the teen questioned in a completely civil tone. She gave him a quick look up and down, lingering for just that extra moment on certain areas that had definitely seemed to be more defined then the last time she had seen him face to face. "You look different. Slightly more... edgier than the last time we talked. It's a good look for you."

"I just -" Why was he here? A tiny frown pulling his lips down, he held out the pin. "You gave this back. And I was just - does this mean that we're ... okay?" He chewed on his bottom lip, suddenly realizing how much he valued Ciar's friendship and guidance. And though they didn't always see eye to eye, she still mattered to him.

Shuffling on his feet, Afonka rubbed at the back of his head. "Because I'm sorry. I - I really am."

Smiling at her compliment, he inclined his head slightly. "Thank you. I sort of did this on a whim."

Wordlessly Ciar shrunk the package under her arm and stowed it in a pocket of her robes before using her own hand to close Afro's hand lightly around the pin. "It was you who denied me, not I you. I was there if ever you decided you needed me again."

She reached up and threaded her fingers through his hair taking a step closer. "All I wanted to show you was that the world was not all black and white. Many of us are painted in shades of grey. It is the choices that we make that define us not who others want us to be." The girl massaged at his scalp lightly with her fingers. "If it makes you feel better though your apology is accepted."

"I do like this new look though," Ciar commented not ceasing her ministrations to his scalp. "It makes you look cool and in command. Like a real man instead of a scared little boy. It's really too bad your not a bit more... adventurous."

He blinked down at their hands before looking up at her, his brown eyes wide. "I know, I know and I am so sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said, and I am so sorry." The anger from then had faded away, and now thinking back to the event, he only felt anger at himself.

It was a welcome change.

Afonka frowned ever so slightly as her fingers made their way into his hair. Though the whole point of his hairstyle was to be messy, but still, the teenager disliked having people touching his hair. "People aren't always only good or only bad." But it was so much easier to classify people into those two groups. "Thank you," he murmured, a relieved smile brightening his face.

He took a small step away, though the smile stayed on his face. "Thank you," he repeated, meaning it just as much. Tilting his head slightly, the smile disappeared, confusion taking its place. "Adventerous? In what way?"

A smirk crossed Ciar's features, grey eyes flashing in an emotion close to amusement. "Still the same boy underneath I see," she commented lightly, hand sliding smoothly from Afro's hair and down the side of his cheek before drifting back to her side. She looked him up and down again with an arched eyebrow.

"One day you'll figure out how my way of life works and when you do..." The Irish teen turned to scan the shelves again fingers gliding delicately over the leather spines, caressing them almost like lovers. An updated metal working book as well as one on forge building and maintenance were taken, shrunk, and added to the small stash in her robe pocket.

Throwing an almost sultry, though not blatantly obvious, smirk over her shoulder Ciar sauntered down the aisle, perusing the other books but not finishing what she had been saying.

Afonka shrugged his shoulders, a light blush darkening his cheeks. "I can change my clothes and the way I walk, but I guess it's going to be harder to change the way I act." But he didn't want to change that, not really. He liked the way he acted.

He tilted his head at her, his expression clouded with confusion. What did she mean, her way of life? Watching her, his expression only became more confused when she didn't finish what she'd said. For a moment, he just stood there, thinking over what she'd said and trying to find some hidden meaning to them. Failing, he frowned.

But either way, he followed her. "You never finished what you were saying," he said as he made his way beside her again.

She silently counted down in her head until Afro asked his question and came after her. He was getting quicker. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.

Pulling another book off the shelf, this one of alchemy, Ciar shrunk it in silence and added it to her pocket so she could compose her amusement before facing Afonka.

Leaning in as she took a step forward she breathed into his ear, "When you do, you'll know exactly when to take the advantage of a situation into your own hands and manipulate it to the benefit of both parties." With a smirk as she drew back and ran a finger over Afro's lips Ciar was feeling quite proud of herself. She hadn't had this much fun in ages.

He simply watched her for a moment, his expression clouding over in confusion and bemusement. He'd missed something, hadn't he? Something rather important. Mentally slapping himself for his idiocy, Afonka shook his head.

Continuing to watch her, he tilted his head slightly and then blinked rapidly as she moved towards him, his words dying in his throat. Swallowing hard - when had his mouth gotten so dry? - he stammered out, "I - I don't - but - what benefits?" he finally squeaked out.

What was she talking about?

A broad smirk slid onto Ciar's features as she surveyed the teen. This was going to be fun. She hadn't had the chance to do something like this in a while with all the work she had to do.

In one swift move the Irish teen had pressed Afonka up against the book shelf, thanking Merlin for the invention of permanent sticking charms placed on them, and her face stopped inches from his, her breath puffing lightly against his lips.

"These benefits," she breathed as she captured his mouth in a heated kiss, eyes closing against the sensation. Nipping at his bottom lip and then swiping her tongue over it she urged Afro to respond to her and give into the kiss.

He stared at her, his confusion somehow managing to grow. His lips parting as a million questions came to mind, he was suddenly cut off by her sudden movements. Blinking at her, suddenly unnerved by the lack of space between them, the edges of the books behind him pressing into his back sharply through his thin t-shirt.

"Ci-?" Whatever else he'd been about to say was cut off by her lips on his. Emitting a little squeak, for a moment he didn't move, his back rigid and his head spinning. He'd been kissed before, he'd kissed Tessa tons of times, but this was different. This was more passionate and more intense and he was feeling lightheaded but maybe that was because he wasn't breathing anymore and -

Afonka swallowed hard, finally remembering to breath. Pulling away from her, he stared at her, eyes wide before gently pushing her off of him, taking a few side steps away. "What - I - I don't - I mean - I - I mean - What?"

Ciar gave an almost dark chuckle as she advanced on the boy, a predatory gleam in her eye. "Afro, Afro, Afro. Still just a confused little boy on the inside. And here I thought you were finally ready to take advantage of the life you were made for and all the benefits that came with it."

She drew close to his front again and trailed a hand down his chest and stopped just above his waistband of his pants. "They call me Viper among people my own age. To everyone else in my homeland I am merely known as the Black Wolf. I am ruthless, cunning, and vicious, yet sly, beautiful, elegant, and charming." She leaned against him and whispered in Afonka's ear. "And I am known for always getting what I want. And the way you are right now is..." the teen licked her lips, "... tempting. Very appetizing, like a delicious little morsel."

Afonka stepped backwards, stumbling. "I - I'm not confused." If there was one thing he was, it was 100% decided about this. He - sure he liked Ciar, but not like that. She was just a friend. "That doesn't mean I have to kiss you! I - I - You're just a friend."

He inhaled sharply, staring down at her hand. But instead of moving, as he'd planned to do, he found himself practically rooted to the spot. "That's ... nice. I don't really get cool nicknames. People just take my name and work from there." Nodding jerkily, he shivered. "But - but - why me? There are plenty of other guys out there. Why me?"

Stepped backwards again, he shook his head, staring down at her. "You make me sound like food. And I'm not food. I don't want to be eaten!"