Cracks in the Cobblestone

[ARAMINTA ABBOTT]

[HER CLOTHES]

As she jostled along the street in the family's carriage, Araminta was reminded of how much she preferred walking. No other mode of transportation, save perhaps riding a horse directly, could satisfy her. For instance, here she was, in the fanciful two-horse carriage with its painted doors and decorated wheels. A ridiculous amount of extravagance for a simple drive from one part of town to the other. But the carriage offered what the simpler one-horse hackney didn't, which was some semblance of comfort. The hackney jumped and shook with every crack in the cobblestones, and by the time Araminta went anywhere in one, she (and her aching backside) was wishing she had simply walked.

She supposed it was probably a sign of her becoming spoiled, that she would find a one-horse coach uncomfortable, when growing up her only option of travel had been a no-horse nothing. But walking was refreshing, and comfortable. Riding even in such a fancy thing as this carriage shut her off from the world. She couldn't hardly see or hear the streets they were driving through. She might rather have walked and experienced the world she was gliding through.

Beside her sat the remainder of her meal, some bread and cheese which she had made into a sandwich with a scrap of ham bought from the butcher. It had been the roughest meal she'd had in a while, and also the best one. She patted her stomach, which was now pushing against the buttons of her jacket as if hoping to revolt against the constriction. She smiled wryly at the idea, an expression she'd been told on one occasion made her look 'less like a lady and more like a hungry dog'. It wasn't polite to smirk. Only to smile.

A smirk, a smile, whatever it was, it was wiped from her face as the carriage took a nasty lurch, forward and to one side. Gasping out of habit, she grabbed the windowsill. The grand box stuttered forward a few more steps, and then stopped. As soon as it had, Araminta swung open the door and stepped out onto the ledge. "What's happened, Hermos?" she asked her driver, craning her neck to see. She could hear one of the horses whinnying, and it was an urgent, upsetting sound, not like the ones they'd give when they found the cubes of sugar in her hands.

"The horse is hurt, ma'am," he answered as he hopped down from his perch.

"Which horse?"

"Diogenes."

This brought Araminta out of the carriage and hurrying around front in time to see the great brown stallion fall. Between the horse and the carriage sat a jagged pothole, and Araminta could see immediately what had happened. Once down, the huge animal immediately tried to get back up, but under the weight of the carriage and the constriction of the harnesses, could not. With each attempt, the entire carriage rocked. Hurrying closer, she could see that the horse's left leg was twisted at a cringe-inducing angle. "Go around that house there and find the stable. Bring whomever can come, who knows how to tend to a horse."

The driver nodded and started off at a run, while Araminta boldly slipped between the horses and worked to unhitch the horse from his load. "Shhh, sh sh, Dio. Stop, just stay down." She didn't even think until the driver had gone to ask if he knew any spells which could heal a horse. Would a spell which worked on a human work on a horse? How had she never thought to find that out, in all those years at Hogwarts? Cursing herself, she slipped an arm around the beloved horse's neck and slowly ran her hand from ear to shoulder, then back, then forth. Feeling the familiar touch, the horse slowly stopped trying to get up.

  

[Timothy Benton]

OOC: Thanks for starting! :D
IC:

It was just another day at the stables. Word had it that a man from the Ministry had taken an interest in Adrienne, which meant that she would probably be off and married soon. She would probably still live in Wellingtonshire, since it was impossible to think that she would marry anyone who wasn't as wealthy as her father. He wouldn't be able to visit her.. he was just a lowly stableman. It wasn't as if he was in love with her - he merely liked to watch her. He had been working for her family for a few years and had grown attached to watching her walk around like she owned the place. Technically speaking, her father did, but still. She was incredibly aware of her beauty and the God given gift of curves and worked them perfectly when she knew him to be watching. He had even been able to coax a kiss out of her, but he figured that was the beginning and end of any sort of relationship that they might have.

The stables was where he belonged. He couldn't bother anybody here aside from the horses, and they had all grown used to him. Timothy, having just finished scooping up manure from the stalls for the second time that day, relaxed on a food barrel. His stained shirt had once been white, although it was now a color that was hard to name. It was soaked with sweat and dirt, as well as flecks of manure. It didn't phase him any however. His arms ached slightly from the exertion, although not as badly as it once had been. Timothy had grown used to the hard work after a few months and now he was rather skilled at shoveling manure, if one could call it a skill. He did other things of course, but his job was to care for the horses. It wouldn't do to have them stepping all over their own feces. Then, cleaning out the shoes on their hooves would be even worse of a job than it already was.

He tugged the raggedy brown cap he wore every day from his hair and used it to wipe the sweat from his brow. His callused hand waved it in front of his face a few times to fan himself off, and then replaced it snugly on his dirty blonde hair.

Quick footsteps caught his attention. He rose from his perch alertly. The man who appeared was unfamiliar - he didn't work for the de Marque's and Timothy wondered where he had come from. The situation was quickly explained to him and he hurried to follow the driver to where the fallen horse lay. To his surprise, he saw that an upper class women - no doubt the woman who the carriage had been pulling - comforted and pet the horse. It lay quietly upon the ground, and Timothy winced as he noticed the awful angle that was the horse's ankle.

"Right," He muttered to himself. Remembering his manners, he dipped into a rushed bow as his hazel eyes glanced towards her face, "Don't worry ma'am, I'll fix your horse right-" His words faltered as he recognized the pretty features of her face. Araminta? Could it be? He hadn't seen her in... years, was it? How was it possible for her to have become an upper class lady? Perhaps he was mistaken. He dropped his eyes from her and returned them to the horse as he finished, "Up."

Timothy bent down to study the horse's ankle. "Definitely broken," He announced after a moment. The teen had not attended Hogwarts, but he did know the spell to mend broken limbs. Or did he? He had learned it once, but it had been so long since he'd had to use it that he couldn't quite remember what it was. His face flushed in the cold January air, and now the sweat that clung to his neck and back was not from exertion, but nervousness.

  

[ARAMINTA ABBOTT]

It was entirely rude, but when the stableman arrived, Araminta had eyes for nothing but the condition of her horse. She glanced at the young man with a look so fleeting she didn't even begin to recognize anything about the very familiar face. It wasn't until she moved out of the way, to let the gentleman inspect the animal more closely, that her anxiety relaxed enough to allow her to take in the full scene.

At first she wasn't sure if she was seeing whom she thought. Not wanting to blurt out a name and have to explain, embarassed, who she had thought he was, she skirted around the driver to get a look at him from the side. "Timothy?" Perhaps she shouldn't have been as shocked as she was--when the entire magical community of Great Britain descended on one town, one was bound to meet a few old friends. But to see Timothy Benton, after all this time--and to meet in such a haphazard way!--it was magnificent.

Given time to completely register his face, her own broke into a wide grin. "It is you! My God, I never would have expected it!" The plight of her horse was not forgotten, and her smile was soon dampened with a pathetic whinny from Diogenes. "When this is tended to, I'll greet you properly. Diogenes first, then reunion. But it is so good to see you."

It was not a forced greeting, which would by societal etiquette require a renewal of acquaintance for the shortest period which could be called polite, to only be dropped by the most affluent one on account of never truly wanting the acquaintance in the first place. Since moving to Hogsmeade, Araminta had never been happier to see anyone. Only the sad state of her horse could keep her from throwing her arms around her old friend and kissing his cheek.

  

[Timothy Benton]

After his declaration, he couldn't help but peek over at her. He argued with himself that it couldn't possibly be her - it wasn't possible for her to have become an upper class lady. She had grown up in the slums much the same way that he had! When she spoke his name however, he knew.

"Araminta?" He responded, quite shocked in his own right, "I thought that was you!" How long had it been since he'd seen her last? Timothy couldn't even remember - it had to be several years at least. In fact, he didn't think he had seen her since her last year at Hogwarts and that had to have been.. what? Six, seven years ago? Timothy had been just a boy then!

It was nice that she was happy to see him, rather than ashamed. Most upper class ladies didn't want to admit that they knew, or were even fond of, a man from the lower class. He grinned widely, "Right. Horse first, and then ya have to tell me how you've been. And how ya got yourself into such pretty lady clothes." He winked at her. She certainly had turned into a beautiful woman, he noticed.

Timothy's attention returned to the horse. He cleared his throat anxiously. After a moment of hard thinking, he squatted down and took a closer look at the poor creature's ankle. If he had been squeamish, it would have brought bile up from his stomach. Instead, he tried not to think about it and slipped his wand out of his trouser's pocket. The stableman wanted nothing more than to impress his childhood friend. She obviously had done well with her life, and he wanted to prove to her that he was as well. Not that it was the truth, but that didn't matter.

"Okay. Here we go," He muttered to himself, "Er.. mendus leg." Nothing happened. His brow furrowed and he cursed silently. Of all the people to have a horse break their leg in front of his workplace, it had to be her.

  

[ARAMINTA ABBOTT]

Araminta nearly couldn't believe it was Timothy. What a wild coincidence! And as he inspected her horse, she cast her mind back on when she had seen him last. It had been one of her summers away from Hogwarts...not after her fourth, when they'd shared a room above some dingy old Knockturn Alley bar for lack of money, no, it must have been after her sixth. After that she'd tried to keep in touch, but it simply hadn't happened. And to run into him now, when she felt as though she so desperately needed a real friend! How refreshing it would be, to spend some time with him after all the time spent with her husband's dull society friends!

"Er.. mendus leg."

How could she have been so forgetful? She'd obviously addled her brain with operas and gardening and other stupid high-class things, forgetting as she had that Timothy was not so well-versed in magic as someone who had attended Hogwarts might have been. She stepped smoothly beside him and knelt down. "Would the standard bone-regrowing spell work on a horse, I wonder?" Well, they had no better option than to try it out.

"Brackium emendo." She felt the magic whoosh from her wand and heard a faint crack which made her wince. "I hope that was a good 'crack', and not a bad one..." She sat back on her heels and watched her horse. He shook his head and tested his foot, seeming to find no pain in putting weight on it. Grinning, Aramina stood. "I think it's worked! Come on, boy, up," she said coaxingly, standing and pulling gently on his lead. The horse heaved itself up off the ground and whinnied when it's weight came down on the injured hoof--with no bad consequences!

Araminta couldn't help but grin. "It worked! Merlin, that must be the most useful thing I've done in ages." With a teasing smile, she turned to Timothy. "Are you particularly busy? I'm in serious danger of smothering to death in this town, and you may be my only hope of survival."

  

[Timothy Benton]

Timothy felt a mixture of relief and a bit of shame when the woman stepped forward and performed the spell for him. At least the horse wasn't in pain anymore, and that was all that was important. It would have been nice to be able to impress Araminta, but he figured she wasn't all that interested in him romantically to begin with. She was a few years older than he and he assumed that she thought of him as nothing more than a little brother type.

"Good work!" He told her with a grin and would have patted her on the arm had they been back in their roomie days. He refrained however. Timothy was weary of onlookers and didn't want to get fired for seeming crass. Lord knew servants would snitch on each other in a heartbeat, given the right price. "It's been a while since I had ta do the spell ya see. Don't gotta use my wand that often workin' with horses," He explained a little sheepishly, and ruffled the sweaty hairs above his forehead that stuck out from his cap.

Her question surprised him, but he was quick to respond, "I'm never too busy to save a pretty lady from smotherin'. Did ya have somethin' in mind?" Granted, he'd have to come up with an excuse to his employers, but he doubted there would be much of a consequence. Even if there was, Timothy didn't care. He liked to live life however he saw fit. It'd be easy to find a position as a servant elsewhere if it came to it.