Then There He Was... solo

Illowy pulled her wool cloak tight about her shoulders as she made her way home. Normally, she would have taken the Floo Network straight home from Diagon Alley, but she'd opted to instead pop into her favorite wizarding bookshop in Dublin on her way home. Though instead of staying for a tea and to read her afternoon away, she chose there because it was near a local Muggle pet store; be reason for that being because of the massive ball of fluff trotting at her side, proudly sporting his new collar and license.

She hadn't much cared for the collar options at the menagerie.

Killian was her Christmas present to herself, deciding that she finally wanted to have such a companion and that she was ready for the responsibility. The animal was a large Siberian cat, with long charcoal and silver fur. Frankly, it was hard to tell if the creature was truly that tall and massive, or if the majority of it's mass was just his hair that made him seem so. Even still, she'd been warned that he still had time to grow. Despite his youth, he still trotted beside her, loyally following his new mistress, and completely neutral to the chilling weather and snow starting to gather along their path.

The cat stopped suddenly as though hesitating as the cut through a part of Herbert Park, "Killian?" the girl stopped, "What's wrong, boy?" sure she hadn't had the animal for long, but this behavior certainly seemed odd. He seemed almost frozen, eyes set ahead to the figure of a man sitting on one of the benches. Even she had to admit, he gave off an unnerving air. So calm, dressed in black slacks and shoes with a dark coat and hat laid over dark curls and hiding the detail's of his face. He almost looked like he was waiting for someone.

"Come, Killian." she spoke softly, bending to take the fluff ball in her arms, the girl held him close and began walking once again. She kept her eyes ahead, taking care not to glance at the stranger. She simply wanted to pass him without incident and keep on her way home.

Fate, however, seemed to have different ideas.

"I never thought of you as the sort to take on a cat as your familiar... especially after that nasty incident when you were little." the man spoke. His voice was like velvet and pipe tobacco to the ears; soft, rich, and warm.

All the same, the girl froze in step, turning slowly to face him, still holding the cat close, "Excuse me?"

The man tucked his hand into his breast pocket for a moment, "Surely you remember? Miss O'Neal, that little old neighbor woman kept all those cats. One wandered into the yard, you tried to play with him and he scratched the daylights out of your little hands." he spoke without hesitation. His story made her blood run colder then the brisk breeze could've ever hoped to achieve on its own.

The girl ran her tongue across her lips for a moment, staring in puzzlement before shaking her head, "I'm sorry, Sir. I think you have the wrong person." she lied, "I have to go home now..." readjusting the animal in her arms, the girl began to turn, ready to hurry away back to the safety of her home. Mentally she took stock of how many streets she had left before she reached her destination, of her wand in the pocket of her cloak, and each spell she had at her disposal if he tried to harm her.

How in the world could he have guessed that story in such perfect detail?

The stranger rose from his seat, "Illowy Sage Fillin." the man spoke with authority, and the child paused again, "Or did your mother go through with changing it to her maiden name? Magnard." this was becoming too much rather quickly.

Swallowing hard, the girl slowly turned around. As she did, the man tipped back his hat so she could better see his face. He was so tall, well built for a man of his age. He had dark, managed curls with a streak of silver staining a curl above his left brow. She considered that he was handsome, but time seemed to have worn him early; she though, perhaps, at one point he must've been indefensibly handsome. Though he was still handsome, it was tainted by two pale scars that began just below center of his forehead and trailed down and across his right cheek, falling down his neck with it's end hidden away by the collar of his shirt.

His eyes were bright hazel, littered with prominent flecks of blue and gold, but something... strange seemed to lurk behind his eyes. Something she couldn't put her finger on. I lay somewhere in the valley of familiarity and fear. Gears were turning in her mind the longer she studied him, and as pieced clicked into place, she realized she was staring into the aged face that she'd seen in her childhood pictures; the ones hidden away from her knowledge along with all of the documents from her young years.

All the same, she needed to be sure. She needed the confirmation.

"Who are you?" she asked, pale eyes narrowed.

The man smiled softly, "I was the first person to greet you into this world." he spoke poetically. The statement the statement stiffened her, muscles tense as the man reached into his pocket, producing a photograph, old and well worn, before offering it to her. Illowy made no attempt to take it front him, she simply looked.

Like all magical photos, the scene played. It was reminiscent of the photos she'd found in her mother's desk. Right away she recognized her mother and herself, sitting in the garden. She couldn't have been much older then three or four. Then a man hurried into the shot, as though having been trying to set the picture perfectly and time it as he took his place sitting beside him. The same man that stood before her now, minus the scars littering his face.

Illowy swallowed hard as she tore her eyes away from the scene, lifting them to gaze at the man who had been consuming her thoughts since the day she arrived back home for the holiday, "Da." her voice was devoid of emotion, but her expression was clear that she was more then aware of who he was without the need of proof such as his worn picture.

He gave a sheepish smile, returning the picture to his pocket, "God, I remember being 'Papa', not just 'Da'." he chuckled. Was that some sort of joke? Was this whole thing some awful, terrible joke?

"You have been gone upwards of seven years, an' you think I ought to call you 'Papa'?" she questioned, "Ye vanished, disappeared, practically obliviated yourself from my memory and you did those terrible things to us... an' now ye'jus' want t'show up whenever it suits you best?" common sense warned her to watch her tone, but anger spoke otherwise.

She knew him. She knew what he'd done to her family. She knew why he was gone, but now he was here. And from what she'd read in her mother's clippings, he shouldn't have been. He should have been miles away from here, locked away in Azkaban.

The man bit his tongue, as though biting back his own temper, "I know. I know what I did, and I served my time for it. I lost you in this whole mess and misunderstanding, but I'm here now. Illowy... I want to try to be there for you, while you're still young enough for me to not miss out on everything new happening in your life. Not just watching from afar-"

The girl didn't let him finish, "Yer the one who's been watching me?" she questioned, "All those bloody letters from D.F., those are from you? Spyin' on me?" she aggressively begged to know.

"I didn't exactly have a lot of options, Illowy. I just... I wanted to know you and see you." the man tried to explain, "I had something I wanted to give you while I had the chance." he reached into his breast pocket once more, producing a small box and offering it to her, "It won't bite." he assured.

It won't, but you might, she thought spitefully to herself.

Emotions were swirling in her, but curiosity took the better of her as she set Killian back on his paws, tentatively taking the box, tied neatly with a green ribbon. Resting on a wooly cotton square was a delicate silver locket, etched in painstaking detail with intricate flourishes that framed some sort of flower she couldn't then identify. Picking it up from it's resting place, she studied it closer, unable to argue its beauty... even less could she argue the anger and confusion steaming inside of her.

"A silly necklace does not make up for what ye'did." she growled, "Ye'don' get it! Ye'don' know me, ye'don' get to jus' reappear out of the depths of hell an' do this! So jus' bugger off!" she by the time she finished, she was screaming, her hands balled tightly at her sides before she turned to leave.

"Illowy, please. Just listen to me." he demanded, grabbing her arm to stop her.

"Let me go!" The girl tried to jerk away frantically from his grip, her mind too much of a mess as he tried to speak to her words that weren't reaching. The young snake's free hand was quick, however, to reach into the pocket of her cloak, finding her wand's handle and drawing it, "Expelliarmus!" she cast at his hand, forcing her release. The girl stumbled back a step or two before raising her wand once more, "Flippendo!" with her focus lacking and centered only on getting away, she didn't take the time to see how far her spell could have even managed to push him before she took off sprinting; Killian on her heels as she ran none stop until she finally got home and locked the door behind her.

It wasn't until she was in the sanctuary of her own home that she realized she was gripping her wand with white knuckle; and in the other hand... she still held the locket.