With spring upon them, the rains never seemed to let out and seemed to make everything soaking wet within an instant. Most of students wandering outside to classes for Herbology or to the Care of Magical Creatures had taken to wearing rubber boots each time they went out. Otherwise, their feet would end up wet and caked in mud. Though a small consolation was that the Hogsmeade trip would be later that upcoming weekend. Though they end up soaking wet in the process.
On the other hand, there was plenty of gossip after the Quidditch match. According to those that had been present on the Slytherin side in a rather public way, Jezebel had broken up with Wilkes. The sobbing girl had accused Wilkes of cheating on her ever since the kissing booth. Wilkes did not deny it and indeed admit that he was seeing someone else in Ravenclaw. With those words, so ended their torrid romance as Jezebel slapped him across the face, before running away loudly sobbing back to the girl's dorms.
It was sad to see such a strong witch end up so very broken. At least, in Rowan's opinion. Jezebel was many things, but weak was not one of them. But what she simply couldn't understand, why Wilkes had been so awful as to hurt Jezebel in such a manner? He could have easily broken up with her any time and should not have waited until Jezebel found out the truth.
Either way, the dubious female in question was an elegant pureblood female in her seventh year. And many seemed to think that the relationship was progressing rather quickly as they'd seen them hand in hand and smiling at each other. Unlike Jezebel and Wilkes relationship which seemed to be much more about satisfying their l.u.s.t for each other, Wilkes and his new paramour were in an appropriate courtship. It seemed as though that the two were rather serious especially Wilkes. There would be a great chance that the sudden courtship would end up in marriage.
Early Saturday morning, Rowan wore a hooded cloak as she waited in the dry front entrance for the carriages to arrive. Making sure her gloves were still in her pockets; she watched the pouring rainfall out of the sky and fall onto the already overflowing crowd. There were big and small puddles everywhere as rivulets of water poured downstream. At least the lake seemed to be slowly growing each time as the Squid could be seen trailing its arms in the rain as if enjoying a spring bath.
Unlike the times, before Rowan solely boarded the first carriage up the path. James had been asked out by a popular girl in their year from Gryffindor and he had accepted. She didn't know if it was because Lily had turned him down or if it was that James was finally trying to explore his feeling for Lily so to speak. She didn't think he was trying to make Lily jealous quite yet but maybe trying to unconsciously forget her for the moment and trying to have an actual relationship with someone else. Either way, if they did end up, dating, it would only end in disaster for the girl. There was no way on Earth that James Potter would date the poor girl more than a month at most a week or two.
The only consolation Rowan had when she climbed out of the carriage is that she was wearing fine leather boots that had been made to keep water and her feet nice and dry. Her feet tended to be warm as she tended to wear thick wool socks or other fluffy warm socks. Having enchanted the water to simply run off her, she kept her hood on as she made her way through the streaming rain.
As Rowan made her way through the Hogsmeade cobbled streets there were plenty of small and large puddles as she carefully avoided some of the bigger puddles. Not because she was afraid of getting wet, but the bigger puddles were not just big, but somehow inexplicably deep. An unfortunate soul had discovered that little detail in the dead of winter. As it turns out, some of the puddles in Hogsmeade are waist-deep which should be impossible given the cobbled street level, but it was a magical town after all. Who's to say, that even puddles can't transform into something more?
Glancing periodically back, Rowan made sure she wasn't being followed and found to her profound relief that the second carriage had yet to arrive nor be seen coming down the hill. Making her way to the edge of town she stops outside of the Hogs Head Inn trying to stop the mud off her shoes, before stepping inside. Water just dripped off her cloak onto the floor as the bar was largely empty at this early morning hour. There were a couple of patrons warming themselves by the fireplace and a few that clearly had passed out the night before and were snoring rather loudly on their perches.
Wrinkling her nose at the state of the pub, Rowan made her way to the bar, where the owner and also bartender of the Hogs Head Inn had his back turned to her as he finished some odd job. She patiently sat down on a barstool and waited for him to finish. Without even glancing back he said, "What will ye be having?"
"A warm cider, please," Rowan ordered. "But not spiced!"
The long wiry, gray-haired man paused in his task to turn around to gaze at his patron. Aberforth Dumbledore's face froze as his deep blue eyes widened behind his dirty spectacles at seeing a gaze he'd never forgotten. His gray beard that reached his chest seemed to tremble as he tried to gain his bearings as his hand curled into a fist, while the other smoothed his dirty apron.
Perplexed Rowan studied the face of the younger brother of Albus Dumbledore, Aberforth Dumbledore. The two might have stared at each other longer than necessary, when she said, "Is there something the matter?"
Aberforth blinked as if breaking out of a daze. "No, I was just a bit startled at this hour to see a brat coming in," Aberforth gruffly said as he turned his back on the girl.
Rowan sniffed and muttered under her breath, "I wouldn't have come here if it'd been my choice."
Aberforth quickly pours the drink and tries to not have it slosh as he slides it across the bar. His hands were still trembling as he saw the girl take her drink and find a corner of the bar away from the other patrons. In retrospect, the tall, slim girl looked nothing like that bastard. Raven hair with midnight black indigo eyes, pale skin, thin lips, and a long nose. She was attractive in her own way, regal even, but certainly not a great beauty.
But it was something about her eyes that had made him recall that bastard. It was that same inhuman stare that seemed to see everything inside one's mind and soul. However, it was impossible. Grindelwald had borne no children. Shaking his head as if awakening from a terrible nightmare, Aberforth returned to his work as he needed to go out and feed the goats in a bit.