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Bezoar Brew

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Rayya Borage-Brown

“I’ve never met anyone who likes being lied to but since I’ve yet to meet everyone in the world, who knows?” Rayy conceded. Answering some of the questions was hard and she fought to hide her grin over the query of how someone could lose their face, though there were probably numerous ways in which you could lose track of the real you and, thus, your real face. “No, it just means to lose standing...social standing that is... amongst your peers. To some people social standing is everything. They’re generally up near the top, everything they do is calculated on what it will get them vs the cost. It’s a difficult dance to move to and it’s tedious, draining and boring. But the problem is that when these people get pushed too far and in such a way that they then feel that they’ve slipped a little in position, then things can get bad. So a lot the diplomacy in the world is all about ways of getting what you want whilst letting the other person keep face.”

 

Rayy pushed her plate away and dabbed her mouth with a napkin and offered a smile, “It also happens to be why I lied in the shop. It allowed you to keep your face and it gave me a way of eliciting your cooperation without having to directly announce my profession in a place where it would be intrusive. It also kept you safe because they thought you were with an adult and not on your own. Sometimes white lies can be useful. Does that make sense?”

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Bezoar Brew

Scratching at the edges of the existing gouges in the wood, Beezee shook his head again. "I think you have, if you think about it. People who get upset about the truth and prefer a nice cozy story." He scrunched up his face as if the idea personally offended him. And maybe she really hadn't met anyone like that, but after the explanation about keeping and losing face, it sure sounded like she had me a lot of people who loved being lied to to protect their feelings.

"I hope I never have to deal with powerful people, they don't tend to like me very much." He tilted his bowl to get a full spoonful, finishing the bite before correcting himself, "well, you seem to like me okay."

He cracked his knuckles as he listened, brow creased and head tilting to one side, "I would have cooperated a lot faster if you didn't immediately present as an obvious liar. I thought you were trying to abduct me with lies and ice cream. I thought you were the danger I should be avoiding!" He smiled a little, something he was told reassured people that he wasn't angry. Serious and thoughtful faces were often seen as angry or upset. 

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Rayya Borage-Brown

Rayy laughed, “You might be right.” She sipped at her drink and nodded, “Yes, I rather suppose you might have done but whilst you got to keep face, it rather served as a giant red flag to whoever else was paying attention to you that you weren’t easy pickings. Like we weren’t followed out, no one is waiting for me to leave you and pounce. Knockturn Alley is shady and you were just begging for trouble to find you.”

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Bezoar Brew

"I was begging for potion ingredients," he snickered into his pumpkin juice, "I didn't even ask nicely for trouble." He still hadn't gotten all of his supplies, but he also wasn't being served as a snack. It seemed like an okay progress point. 

"Did you go to Hogwarts? Which House were you in? Did you like it? Is there anything I should know?" 

Why am I talking so much? Did she slip something in my ice cream or something?

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Rayya Borage-Brown

“That’s the thing with bad people; they don’t wait for permission to strike. Like it or not, potion ingredients or not, you’d not have walked out of there as easily as you did.”

 

Her drink was now mostly melting ice and it was probably getting time to make their way back. “I was in Gryffindor and yes, I mostly enjoyed it. There were a few small issues along the way but what teen doesn’t have issues? And if i were to give you some advice it would be to not venture into the Forbidden Forest and to pay attention in class...and not to eat food in the library.  Come on wed best be getting back.”

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Bezoar Brew

Finishing his pumpkin juice, Beezee nodded his head solemnly in acceptance. He was already trying to distance himself from the adrenaline spike that had happened earlier in the day. His damp clothing were making him shiver and the idea of moving again was suddenly quite appealing. He wiped a heel of bread inside the bowl of stew to finish the last dregs, popped the sodden bite into his mouth, and cleaned his hand on the napkin. 

Done chewing and swallowing, Bezoar hopped off his chair and took Rayya's hand again. "Gryffindor... that makes sense. Lots of Aurors were Gryffindors from what Dad says.  He was a Slytherin, but he doesn't think I will be one of those."

He looked up at Rayya with a confused look, "do a lot of people go into places that have Forbidden right in the name? Did you go in there? Can we have ice cream for dessert?"

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Rayya Borage-Brown

“I don’t think being in Gryffindor is a requirement to being an Auror, grades matter a whole lot more,” she replied, “and you’d be surprised at how many people think the word ‘forbidden’ doesn’t apply to them. If they’re lucky they’ll just get themselves educated about how wrong they are by a Prefect or Professor. If they’re not...well they’ll learn the hard way. And of course I have, on many occasions - my job requires it.”

 

It wasn’t the whole truth but it did basically cover every time she’d been in the forest; Prefects had a job as well so that counted too. Though to a kid who hated lies, it might be seen as lying....or maybe stretching the truth a bit. “You’d do well to stay away and save yourself detention.”

 

They made their way back and Rayy had to smile at the nerve of a kid wanting more ice cream. If he’d been one of hers the answer would have been an unequivocal ‘No!’ but since she was in loco parentis she had more freedom to permit willy-nilly ice cream eating. Plus like she’d make a kid sit in an ice cream parlour without letting them have some!!! She wasn’t that heartless!

 

”Yes, I suppose you can. A small bowl, mind, because you’ve already had some today. Your dad can deal with any issues pertaining to sugar and tooth rot and hyperactivity.”

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Bezoar Brew

"I don't know that everyone has an easy setting for learning," Bezoar mused out loud with a dubious and slightly pained expression, recalling the conversations he had with distant cousins trying to explain what parkour was, or the difference between bouldering and rock climbing. 

"Right, the not dying thing. We covered that." He gave the older witch's hand a little squeeze, then let their arms swing a little playfully while they walked. "I don't plan on tracking down stupid dangerous things, but I don't know if that will save me from detention. Telling the truth gets you in a lot of trouble," he sighed, but couldn't be put in an off mood. He was getting a second helping of ice cream. 

"It's not like I don't brush my teeth," he countered, baring his teeth in an unnervingly wide grin as they entered the parlour. He was fairly certain that they had passed his Dad as they entered the shop, but Beezee doubted that the man would register his son holding an older witch's hand. And if he did, it would likely take some time to process.

He picked a small bowl of mushroom meringue and grabbed a table inside. "Thanks for hanging out with me, Rayya. You're pretty cool. Especially when I am not getting eaten." 

 

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Rayya Borage-Brown

Ah to be young again when everything was clearly black or white and there were no shades of grey to muddy the waters! Back when adults had been all-knowing and caring! Rayy smiled wistfully but was forced to chuckle at the almost-there wisdom. “Well there are times when telling the whole truth is important. Then there are times when not telling the whole truth is advised. White lies that spares feelings is acceptable and lies of omission are also sometimes necessary,” Rayy mused.

 

Her stomach lurched at the flavour her guest picked and she was thankful that a good, solid rum and raisin was about as adventurous she went. She stuck with a hot chocolate. “Well it has been an interesting day and you’re welcome. Pity my own kids don’t think the same. Now, your dad should be here soon.”

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Bezoar Brew

Scrunching up his face, Bezoar was about to speak up in disagreement when his father walked into the parlour and approached their table. The young wizard immediately stood up and dropped his hands by his side.
Beowulf Brew eyed his son for a moment before turning to the auror seated at the table. "Beowulf Brew, Obliviator with the Ministry of Magic. I float between Departments as needed. I don't believe we have met."

The wizard turned again to his child, mouth thin with exhaustion, "Bezoar."
"Sir."
"Apologize to this good witch."
Bezoar frowned, searching for something that he felt sorry about.
"I'm sorry for delaying your meal, Miss Rayya," he murmured, not quietly enough to be insincere but not loud enough to be indiscreet. His gaze was steadily fixed on a floor tile, expression carefully blank. 

"Accepted?" Beowulf raised an eyebrow at the witch in question, posture straight but relaxed.   
 

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