Suddenly, Eugine was hugged.

"Eugine. How are you? I haven't see you in a while."

Did she know this girl? She pulled away and looked at the girl's face. AUTUMN! Of COURSE she knew Autumn! She hadn't seen her in such a long time that she'd almost forgot Autumn! "Oh!" Eugine squealed happily. "I've been good!" She babbled. "I'm getting married!"

"How've you been?" She asked, when she was able to breath again. She looked with envy at Autumn's beautiful, long, coppery hair. She had a sudden need to braid the hair.

Autumn nodded. she giggled.

Autumn sighed. "You are? Thats good." she smiled. "I've been good Jake and I moved in together." she said happily. "Although no ring yet." she laughed. "Not for a while."

Eugine grinned. "Would you like to come?"

Autumn smiled. She nodded. That would be awesome. She turned her head back to Eugine. "I would love to."

Stacey-Ann walked along the sidewalk unsure as to why she was there and she sighed she had to make new friends somehow

Write a story. Write a story. Write a story
But about what? James groaned. This was hopeless. He needed a topic, then he'd be on his way but everything was so tame. He wanted revolutionary, something that would have his name written on placards for decades. Eh. Yeah. Not gunna happen.
He sat down on the sidewalk and sighed. This was pointless. He'd gone for a walk to try and find something interesting to write about and all he came up with was the failing interdepartmental relations; he'd overhead two women gossiping about it on the way from the Prophet.

For what reason had James thought it a good idea to venture into that funny looking box inside the Ministry? He'd gone in there purely out of curiosity but as he was about to step out, the doors closed and up, up, up he went!

That infamous saying sprang to mind: 'Curiosity killed the kneazle.'

Oh dear.

So there he was, peering through the glass of the curious red box thingy out at the streets of muggle London! His heart was racing. He didn't have a clue how to get back down into the safe cocoon that was the Ministry of Magic below.

He pressed his hands to the glass and leaned forward so that he could see his surroundings a little better but the door swung open thanks to his weight and he unceremoniously fell out of the box. Stumbling to regain his balance he looked around for directions as to how to get back to safety. Nothing. Maybe he could pluck up the courage to ask someone? But who? The few people hanging around could be muggles for all he knew. Darn and blast him for never having the courange to come here before.

There was nothing else to do – he would have search for somewhere quiet so he could aparate. He swallowed and looked up and down the street. The likelihood of getting lost scared the living daylights out of him.

He glanced briefly at two young ladies engaged in conversation before he set off slowly down the street only to trip over something on the pavement. And then he was on the ground. He made a pained sound communicating the hopelessness of the predicament he had found himself in. He just wanted to go home, put his feet up and have a nice cup of herbal tea. James didn't ask for much in life.

James stared helplessly at the people that passed him. The little vehicles those muggles drove would've, on an ordinary day, amused him. But today? Today he wanted the stupid cement to swallow him whole. When had James Parker ever, ever had writer's block? He had a whole career as a sensationalist, codswallop spieler ahead of him! Those poor people would live their lives without ever having lies printed about them!? Horror.

He would quit writing. Forever.
James blinked feeling tears come to his eyes; realisation of such a crazy notion bringing him to crying. Good lord no. James was a maaaaan!
And he was a fabulous writer. Was. *sniffle*

Okay. Relax. He would find something to write about. He would, oh yes! Something legendary. Something to put his name down next to Rita Skeeta! YESSS.
"OUUUUUFF" Or not. Something large, invasive of his personal space and very heavy crash-landed and then plummeted face first into the pavings.
James winced and then disentangled himself from the mess. First straightening (or rather fluffing up his hair) he then looked down at the jungle of limbs which was actually a person. A man to be exact.
Oh yes. That was just perfect. A muggle had decided to run into him. Today of all days. Had he killed him? It had been a pretty nasty fall. Oh shoot. Just when he'd decided not to end his career and to wear a really smexeh suit (and gel his hair in a really spunky way) he would be prosecuted with manslaughter or some equally ridiculous muggle charge. Gr.. life was cruel.
"Uh, mate? You okay there?" The lump made a noise. Ah! LIFE!
Excellent. Time to fleeeee!
But James looked down at the guy and he felt sorry for him. He didn't even have a nice hairdo.
"Mate. You and me are in the same boat. We're both doomed: your face and my career."

Now who would just leave things lying on the pavement for unsuspecting wizards to trip over? James raised his head with a groan of despair and placed his palms to the ground to push himself up onto his feet.. but he paused. It would appear that the inanimate object he fell over had a voice. He swallowed and turned his head to see a.. a Muggle! He'd been in the muggle world for all of three minutes and had somehow managed to fall over one. Was it custom for the people of muggle blood to sit on the pavement? It appeared the voice was friendly. This was good. James had seen how muggles usually solved their problems on that tellybox his brother had set up for him -he was partial to a bit of Coronation Street- but muggle folk were barbaric and liked to use their fists to solve their problems.

“I-I-I” Oh dear Dumbledore! - the kneazle had not only piqued his curiosity, but had now got his tongue too. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, concentrating on what he was trying to say. “I'm fine.” He said softly, opening his eyes to look at the man.

He felt his forehead to find that when he smacked his head, he managed to gash it. He clawed his way up onto his knees and turned to face the man, flopping down with all the grace he could muster into a sitting position. “M-my face? Is it ba-bad?” He queried. And what was this 'boat' thing he spoketh of? He looked at the muggle with curiosity. He looked normal enough. “B-buh buh-boat?” He stuttered out questionally not even realising that to this muggle he would sound quite insane not knowing what one was.

James looked at him wondering possibly if after several times the man could get the vowel out.
"You, you what?" He queried anxiously. If said Muggle was critically hurt/dying James wasn't in the mood to play superman/nice person.
"Oh thank Merlin," James whispered inaudibly to himself. "Good. Can you get up?" Hopefully he hadn't broken anything..
He waited, with as much patience as a Parker could muster, for the man to get up. His comment about his face had just been in passing, afterall usually when one decided to lick the pavement with one's cheeks you did usually get some grazing.
"Oh Morgana.." That was bad. He looked like he'd just decided to fall flat on his face. Well.. he.. oh well.
"Well, it's not that bad. Could be worse, right?" He tried one of those optimistic faces because this man was a stranger with a face uglier than a baboon's bottom. Prospects were slim.
But James was feeling charitable. Maybe he could fix this muggle man up and send him on his way with a good memory charm? "Do you like ponies?" He asked innocently, trying to distract the poor bloke so he could whip his wand out.
Boat? Wait. What muggle didn't know what a boat was? Merlin, what wizard didnt know what a boat was?
"Where have you been living mate? It's this moving people carrier that floats on water. I got to School on one in Tahiti.." James reminsced and then laughed, "You a hermit or something?" Now that would be a cool story, "The Muggle who knew not."

The query from the muggle and the anxious tone in which it was delivered made James all the more nervous as he tried to get his words out. He didn't care that he'd hurt his head, he just wanted to get back to his own world. He had to focus with all his might on what he was trying to say. This was one of the reasons he was so good at non-verbal spells – he was great at focusing and it was actually easier for him not to have to speak an incantation out loud.

'Well, it's not that bad. Could be worse, right?' - that really wasn't the reply James was hoping for. He touched the wound tentatively - it was only a graze. He would live. If, indeed, he could get back inside the Ministry without getting squashed by an automobile. He attempted a smile at the muggle but it was, as usual, very awkward and self conscious.

The man's next words were extremely confusing to James and he merely blinked in response. Ponies? What in Newt Scamander's name? Did he mean those miniature muggle horses, or was this muggle code-speak. "I-Is this a tr-tr-tr-tr..." Oh dear Dumbledore! "trick question." He managed after tr-ing for a few moments longer. If he wasn't so anxious he wouldn't be stuttering so much.

Where had he been living? His eyes went enormous. This muggle was on to him! Did he really look that suspicious? He barely heard the explanation about what a boat was. He would have to politely excuse himself and get the heck out of here! "I l-live in.." Oh dear... just make something up, James. "T-Tip..er.. ington. T-T-Tipington" Oh to have the Slytherin sly of his half brother would be welcome sometimes. He sighed and merely nodded to the man's next question unable to muster an audible reply without stuttering like a complete nonce. Maybe he would believe he was a hermit and just go away and leave him be.

Stacey-Ann wandered to where the phone booth was and sighed she was still in need of friends but she had at least now had her leg fixed so she wouldnt miss anymore days off of her work

Alyssa was walking on the sidewalk when she passed a woman by herself. She decided it would be best to stop and say hello. "Hello! I'm Alyssa..Alyssa Hobgartner." She stuck out her hand in tradition for meeting new people.

Stacey-Ann smiled at Alyssa and shook her hand and said "Pleasure to meet you Alyssa, i am Stacey-Ann Newton" Stacey-Ann was glad that she was better to work now and make even more friends

Alyssa smiled at the woman. "I'm a division head on level 5. International Magical Cooperation, British Seats division. Where do you work?" Alyssa liked knowing people form all the different levels, it made her a better person to know everyone.

Stacey-Ann smiled and said "Cool, i work in the department of mysteries but i am unable to say much else about my job"

"Oh right...mysteries is right!" Alyssa was always interested in the Deparment of mysteries. "But I suppose you must keep things secret! We aren't too secretive up on level 5!" Alyssa smiled she was having a good time getting to know the woman.

Stacey-Ann nodded and said "Yeah well at least your department is not secretive" Stacey-Ann was having a pretty good time

Did this guy know how to speak? He watched him intently as he tried to unglue his face from the pavement and then inspect his forehead which looked all red and bleh. James hadn't ever been one for blood.
The muggle man sort of have smiled at him in a really creepy way and James nodded slowly, "Err, yes.. you're welcome?" This guy was strange.
"No, it's not?" What was up with this guy?
"Do you like, oh you know what? Nevermind." He wasn't even going to bother.
"I l-live in.." Oh dear... just make something up, James. "T-Tip..er.. ington. T-T-Tipington"
"Riiiight.. " He hadn't even asked him where he lived..
"Well if you're alright I need to get back to work." He gave him a smile and looked back towards the Leaky. "Stupid Prophet doesn't even give us an hour lunch break.. they're running a slave drive business.. no wonder I can't think of anything to write."

What was all this business about ponies? James was frightfully confused by this muggle. He made a mental note – this being one of the reasons why he never ventured out of the wizarding world ever again.

James, it seemed, in his ignorance over all things muggle, had unwittingly irritated the man. He swallowed. “Yeah...” He replied slowly and nervously. “I like puh-ponies.” What a curious question.

Perception was one of the trait's young James was gifted with. Although he didn't really live in the 'real world' as such, he was a great observer of it and it's people. The sarcasm, therefore, was not lost on him and he blinked. The man had asked him where he had been living. Fair enough, the reply was some made up place which he thought sounded like a muggle town but surely the little fib was believable.

The Prophet? Wait a second! THE PROPHET! The wizarding paper he only read because his eldest brother worked for it – James was more of a Quibbler man. “Wizard!” He blurted out like a tourettes sufferer. Oh he was so articulate today wasn't he? “I-I mean.. you're a wizard.” He said in a hushed tone. The fact the gentleman was of magical blood helped put the tall blonde man at ease. He gestured to the phone box he had fallen out of all of five minutes ago. “Do you know how to get back to the Ministry?” He said quietly.

When did this end? "Well that's good." He wasn't really bothered with the whole helping him out thing anymore. Much, much much to much effort. James made a strangled sound as he checked his watch. He needed to go but.. this man looked like a niffler who'd tried to find gold in concrete.
Ugh.
Who was he kidding?
"Okay, which colour ponies do you like?" He asked him slowly. Maybe he could distract this absolutely lost but endearing little man.
Checking his watch, James swore and then muttered curses at the Prophets ineptness and how much he wanted to quit.
But then shyman/grazeface decided the most inoportune moment to declare things.
James eyes widened to the size of galleons and he turned to the man and gulped.
"What did you say?" Oh dear lord.. then he repeated it - in a whisper like it was some big secret. Oh dear merlin! How had he figured it out?!?! Was his wand showing?
HOW HAD HE FIGURED IT OUT!?!?!?!?!?!?!111??!?!
The Ministry would kill him and he would die a unknown writer for a shonky paper
Why was life so cruel? James pulled out his wand and glancing at the rather empty street he turned his back to the people and looked at the man, placing his wand at his throat.
"It's not going to hurt - maybe tickle a little but you'll feel reaaaaally calm afterwards. Just relax. You won't remember any of this in the-"
Wait whatttt?
Ministry?
"You're a wizard?" James whispered and dropped his wand. "Well why didn't you say anything? Are you mad? I think that fall disrupted your cerebral workings or something. I was going to erase your memory and then flee - quickly!"
Glancing back at the guy, James groaned.
"James Parker. The late employee of the Prophet and would be eraser of your memory. It's.. nice to meet you." The reporter stuck his hand out and sat down dishevelled his hair a little more.

The questions were getting stranger and stranger and James's brow furrowed in complete confusion. What colour ponies did he like? Um... Maybe this muggle gentleman wasn't completely all there. But was he dangerous? An escaped mental patient perhaps. James decided the best course of action would be to humour him. “Yellow.” Came his response and then he groaned inwardly. Did muggles have yellow ponies? Oh great grindylows. “I-I mean bl-blonde.” Still not right. “White!” He said, his tone becoming a little panicked. “White pponies.” Lord help him!

Having come to the conclusion that the muggle was in fact not a muggle and was therefore of magical blood, James was not expecting hostility. The wand was at his throat in an instant and he gasped, eyes wide. “With all due respect...” Oh.. the shock seemed to have jolted the stutter out of him. “..are you mad?” He asked almost casually. He was about to reach for his own wand -yeah.. he wouldn't be able to take out the man given his current predicament but he would die at least attempting to defend himself. James may be shy, socially inept, but he was no coward - not over the big things in life.

But he paused, a delicate, long fingered hand hovering over the wand holster on his hip, because the man had paused. “Of course I'm a wizard.” He replied, sighing with absolute relief as the man dropped his wand. He rubbed his neck where it had been prodded at and panted a bit. “I thought you were a mu-muggle.” And the stutter was back. “I don't go around ah-announcing that I'm a wi-wizard to muggles.” The man was being rather insulting but, James ignored it giving him the benefit of the doubt that it was being said due to stress. “D-do you often d-draw your wand on in-innocent muggles?” He queried, an eyebrow raising.

He flopped down on the ground next to the strange mug..er wizard. Oh he was James too! “It's a p-pleasure, James.” He took the man's hand and shook it. “I'm James G-Greenwood. B-Beings Division in the M-Ministry.”

His distractions didn't seem to be working. The man just looked perplexed. Nuggets.
"Yellow? I don't think.." Heck, he didn't really know. Maybe muggles had started making yellow ponies. He wouldn't put it past them with their Genetically Modificated Organizoids. Weird stuff those muggles did. A simple colour change charm could've done the trick without all the prodding and extracting and test tubes.
The reporter watched in amusement as the man seemed in a right predicament over his favourite colour of horse. "Christ, will you just choose one already?" James was getting impatient.. and late.
*panic*
Calm.
He was a wizard. A smart, intelligent, handsome wizard. What did wizards normally do when muggles figured it out?
Ran.
Oh wait. He wasn't actually a muggle. "Mad? Not yet." He placed his wand back in it's holster and rubbed the back of his neck. Now what? Introductions?
"Oh, ofcourse you're a wizard," James replied tiredly, "Well I know that now! It wasn't very obvious when you decided to stumble over me and then stutter about how much you did or did not like ponies. You make a hell of a good muggle." They were really strange ones too.
"Crazily, I thought you were a muggle." At the man's comment, James looked at him. "Oh, but you go gallavanting around muggle London acting like a lost tourist?"
“D-do you often d-draw your wand on in-innocent muggles?”
Ugh! Insult. James scowled.
"Well no I don't.. but when the mystery of magic is at stake I do try and do my part." Hmph. So much for playing the hero.
He sat down, exhausted from all the drama and introduced himself.
"You a James too?" What a coincidence. "S'nice. What's it like there?" Maybe a plug for his story, eh?

"So how long have you worked at the ministry for?" Alyssa loved to getting to know people, so she always asked alot of personal questions to people she barely knew. Alyssa knew that it caused alot of poeple to run in the other direction, but she just couldn't help it, that's the way she was.

Stacey-Ann thought and said "About 2 and half years now i love my job would not do anything else anyway"