The rain had driven her into the small antique shop, but the redhead couldn’t say that she minded much. It was somewhere she had been meaning to go, as she absolutely adored unique antiques that she could potentially get a good deal on.

What was currently catching her eye was a small desk. It was painted in blocks of white, dark blue, and a gorgeous light green. It screamed ‘spring’, and although it wasn’t something she needed, she was definitely contemplating dipping into her prior career savings to buy it. It wasn’t like she was that bad off, and maybe if she bought a desk it would motivate her to begin writing again. Not that anyone was buying her works anymore; in fact, she highly doubted she would be able to find anyone willing to even publish a mudblood’s heresy.

The desk didn’t fit with any of the other pieces of furniture or décor currently in her apartment; not that anything there did. It was really just a random collection of things that she and her roommate liked. And although she didn’t need this particular desk – she really liked it. The bright colors made her happy, in a way she hadn’t known since losing her magic. The muggle registration was , and being forced to live in Kolna was…unsettling, but she was able to survive. Having her wand snapped hurt her heart a bit. But when she became infected with what they call Epidemic X – that might as well have been the nail in her coffin.

As she reached out to run her hand over the painted wood, she smiled to herself. To be honest, the way the thing was painted made her think that it was made more for a child than a grown adult woman in her thirties. But maybe that’s what she needed; a little bit of childhood innocence back in her life. The thought made her snort. No, it was much too late for that. She quickly removed her hand from the desk, as if it had burned her. When she looked up, her green eyes made contact with another pair. Had they been watching her the whole time?

I wanna tell you who I am

448 words // open // click to see the desk!

☀

It had been a light few days for Max. He didn’t mind, it allowed him to work on his own art in between the customers he did have and it allowed him to go and visit his parents. His mother had quickly remarked his visit had been long overdue. He knew that despite his mother being a muggle, she was widely aware of what was going on in the magical world and that while her son was unaffected by the epidemic, her daughters had not been so lucky. Max helped them where he could, especially with looking after his nieces and nephews. Most of them though were old enough that they believed they could manage on their own. Max simply stood back and was on hand if they needed him.

At least he could cook for them. It was maybe a funny sight to see a werewolf cooking but he had been a. Human before he had been bitten and living on his own he had to feed himself. When it came to the full moon it was another story on how he fed himself. But most of the time he either ate out in Knockturn or he cooked at home.

Max was fine on his own. Sure, he got lonely but when that happened he would go see his family and that would satisfy his need for company. His flat had been subtly decorated. The walls he had painted green and it had brightened up his flat as well as his attitude. Most of the time he attributed his attitude to what he was, even though he knew that was getting old.

But Max had been this way for many years now and he worked his way through what he was and made sure he got away in time when it was time for a full moon. He didn’t take Wolfsbane because he felt like he didn’t want to and he knew it wasn’t going to change what he was. At the end of the day he was still going to be a werewolf.

As he made his way through Diagon Alley he chuckled to himself as some puppies in the menagerie were huddled by the front window and looked at him curiously. They could obviously smell him even amongst all the people going by and even through the glass. If he stopped he would probably be able to smell them in return.

Max walked into the shop and looked around with his hands in the pockets. The smile was still playing on his lips from seeing the puppies reaction. Max looked around took note of the redhead walking around and smiled at her before he looked around and looked at some lamps. He didn’t need a lamp but he thought his mum would like them for her next birthday. He mentally added them to her birthday list in her head before looking at the other person again. ”It’s a nice desk, isn’t it?”

When the man spoke Megara wasn’t quite sure how to take it. She wasn’t sure if he meant it, or was making fun of her for how childish the paint on it was. Her brain quickly ran through the possibilities. She didn’t used to be so suspicious of other’s words or actions, taking everything at face value, but the last few years had definitely changed her. Meg wasn’t sure if it was for better or for worse, to be honest. Personality wise, that is. Megara definitely considered her inability to do magic the worst.

Especially the inability to transform herself into her animagus form. Having her wand snapped and not being able to do spells as a muggleborn was one thing, but not being able to take her wolf form after working so hard to become it had practically killed her. It’s what her career was based off of. And it was the only sense of freedom that she was allowed while living in Kolna.

Meg looked down at the desk once more when the man mentioned it. Although not knowing much about woodwork, she could tell that it was nicely built underneath the unique paint choice. Her hand twitched as she resisted the urge to touch it again. There was something about the light green color that she was drawn too. Green was her favorite color, but it’s not like anything she had in the apartment she shared would reflect that. Not even in her bedroom.

Maybe it was because Megara’s subconscious deemed it too joyful of a color for her currently. She definitely felt like her current bland palette of blacks, grays and whites was more suited to her recent mood. A gray cloud that wasn’t going to away anytime soon, if ever, it felt like.

Glancing back up at the man, she let a small smile grace her lips. Covering the depressed thoughts that continued to swirl around in the back of her brain. If she wasn’t careful, they would come to the forefront.

Meg wasn’t normally one for socialization but she found that it was a decent distraction. She was always looking for distractions. Megara nodded in response to his statement, having decided on the best possible answer to cover any meaning that he may have had behind it. “For a child, perhaps.” She noted in a quiet, wistful voice. She turned back to the subject of their conversation, her voice steadier than before. “I hope whoever buys it doesn’t paint over it. The colors really are great.”

I wanna tell you who I am

422 words // Max Dwyer // click to see the desk!

☀

Working where he did Max had seen his fair share of strange requests but he never judged anyone for where they wanted their tattoo or for the tattoo they wanted. Everyone was entitled to choose whatever they pleased or whatever had meaning for them. He had seen so many designs over the years that he had lost count very quickly. But he found the occasional one from time to time that had an interesting story behind it. His own arm was decorated with such meaning as a remembrance to Christina and Henry. He would have rather had them in his life but he still thought about them every day. Every romantic relationship Max had ever had since he had lost her had not even come close but he knew had to try. He didn’t necessarily need a companion and most of the time he felt anyone would be turned off him when they learned he was a werewolf. But he didn’t want to be lonely.

Still, he kept himself busy, he worked, he spent time with his family and when he was up to it, he went shopping. His own flat was in Knockturn Alley and he didn’t exactly need to decorate it but being a tattoo artist made him decorate his own home. He knew he didn’t have to live there but he chose to because it was right above the tattoo parlour and in the days of Durant, it had made sense.

But the man was long gone and there was a new regime in place now. It was very different from the government of prior years. Max had adapted to the new regime a long time ago but he didn’t stand by their treatment of muggleborns. He had not told his mother about them because with her being a muggle he didn’t want to upset and he was sure his sisters had also kept it all from her. He didn’t want to protect her because he knew how strong she was. She had lived her life with a wizard for a husband and raising five magical children and she had recently learned her son was a werewolf. Her grandchildren were also magical and he knew it took a lot for a person to live surrounded by so much magic.

Max had watched the woman after he asked the question. He had meant it rhetorically, she was under no obligation to answer him. In fact, he felt like some time had passed since she answered him. It was perhaps unfortunate but may he could smell her fear. He didn’t want to scare her, ironic as it seemed.

"Well, if you ask me, I still think that even us adults still have our child” he smiled as he made his way over to her and held out his hand. "I’m Maximillian Dwyer…..Max for short” he smiled. He didn’t normally go up and introduce himself to strangers but he wanted to put this woman at ease and so he felt like he had to take this first step.

When the man introduced himself, Megara had to keep herself from scoffing. 'Maximillian. What a name.' She did appreciate it for brightening her mood though. However temporarily. Her small hand hesitated slightly but she reached out to shake his in greeting. “I’m Megara Grant…Meg for short.” She repeated his statement with a similar tone and cadence,, inserting her own name and nickname into it. She remembered a time when people would recognize her name for the work she had done. Not so very long ago, a few years in reality, but it felt like decades.

Even then though, her publications usually only circled through a small number of devout readers that shared common interests, as her own findings on potions, werewolves, and animagi weren’t exactly as fun to read as other things. It allowed her to still walk around without being acknowledged most of the time, which is how she liked it. She always found it awkward when other witches and wizards knew her name before she had introduced herself, but she was never mean about it.

Although not a fan of attention, it wasn’t new for her to be the center of it. It started during her school years and progressed from there. Megara recalled the days when she first started crossing over into Knockturn Alley for the…rarer…potion ingredients she sought. She was a muggleborn and a Ravenclaw, neither of which stepped foot into the dark alley without drawing attention. She was able to talk her way around however and eventually became a familiar face to many there. Of course, that really was probably a decade or so ago. Before hell broke loose.

Megara had become quite the hermit sense. She was an unknown now, as all of her research and findings were dismissed. Those that did know of or remember her acted as if they didn’t, for their own protection. Not that she could blame them. She had cut off all contact with her muggle parents for the same reason – to protect them.

Pulling herself out of her reminiscing mind, she let out a thoughtful ‘hmm’. “There’s a child in all of us, sure.” She shrugged. “Some are just closer to the surface than others.” she smiled, tilting her head to look at the man that was significantly taller than herself. “Just you saying that makes me think that you’re one of them.”

I wanna tell you who I am

395 words // Max Dwyer // click to see the desk!

☀

Max liked to take trips out of Knockturn Alley as much as he could. Times had definitely changed from when Durant was at the helm of the ministry. Of course, he had made multiple trips to see his family and that required him going through muggle London. The difference was that he could unnoticed in muggle London. No one was none the wiser to the actual existence of werewolves. He didn’t raise suspicions. Max never went there when he was recovering from a transformation in case he looked very sickly another his normal self. He thought it was strange that his presence sometimes made people uneasy in the magical world, but there was no problem on the other side of the Leaky Cauldron.

Max made sure to not appear too different from regular humans when he was out and about. The only other beings whoever caught on to him were other werewolves but that was unmissable given their strong sense of smell. He could smell them to when he was near them but never approached the subject. Sometimes he would attempt to send them a silent message and other times he just didn’t bother. It made no difference that there were two wolves in close proximity. Of course it depended on what time of the month it was, but even them, they had more sense than to cause trouble for each other. Max wondered how different he really was to other werewolves.

He knew that others lived far away from civilisation. He never understood their reasoning behind that, but that could because he knew his sisters would never allow him to break contact with him. Max couldn’t honestly fathom doing anything like that. He may have contemplated it before he had reconnected with his parents but definitely wasn't going to leave his shop and run away to the forest.

He had a lot to consider before ever doing that. He had the tattoo parlour. And Max wanted to be around his family when he could manage to see them. He had long given up on relationships. His recent run of relationships failing had taught him that he was better on his own. He was happy like that. He would manage on his own. He was an adult and he managed to find enough to do to occupy his time without him seeking a partner.

Sometimes those times took him to places he didn’t expect like the second hand shop. He hadn’t meant to spook the woman by talking to her. After all, they were just talking about a desk. He folded his arms behind his back and smiled at her, nodding a little. ”Guilty as charged…” he chuckled a little before running his hand across the stubble on his left cheek. ”I have a lot of nieces and nephews, they keep me young” Max smirked. ”What Brought you here today….miss?”