"Dad? Who's Dumbledore?"

Robert Williams glanced at his daughter over the top of his newspaper. "Haven't a clue, Sarah, but apparently someone is going to kill him."

Sarah frowned at the writing on her arm, it just wasn't fair. None of the kids at school had things like this written on their arms. They all had perfectly normal, boring things, like 'Hi, my name is...', or 'Oops, sorry!', or some other such thing. One kid had 'Freeze!', which was a little odd, but at least it wasn't something about someone dying!

'Can you believe she killed Dumbledore?' Sarah scratched at the little letters irritably. She really hoped she wouldn't meet her soulmate at a funeral.

. . .

Sarah sifted through the bookshelves, occasionally pulling off a title to read the back, only to shove it back with a mildly aggravated sigh. Nothing was capturing her interest. She traced her fingers over the spines as she moved slowly down the aisle, almost ready to give up and go home empty-handed when her fingers caught on a small paperback that hadn't been put away properly and tugged it from the shelf.

Thwack!

Sarah hissed when the book hit the floor, glancing around superstitiously for any witnesses before stooping to snatch it up.

"Sorry…" she breathed, turning the book over in her hands to check for damage. She paused when she saw the front cover.

'Is… is that boy riding a broomstick?' Interest finally piqued, she flipped it over once more to read the back. 'Harry Potter… a wizarding school?'

"Alright, Miss Rowling. You have my attention," Sarah murmured softly, opening the book to the first page and beginning to read as she turned and slowly made her way to the checkout.

The unlucky little paperback was dropped for the second time that day when Sarah found a familiar name at the bottom of the eighth page.

. . .

"You do realize that those books are supposed to be for kids, right?"

"Hmm?" Sarah looked up from her brand new copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, which she was already almost a third of the way through, and blinked at Karen. It took a moment for the comment to register. "Lots of adults read them, Karen."

"You don't just read them, Sarah. You devour them."

Sarah laughed as her stepmother went back to making her pie. Peach, Sarah's favorite. Things had been a little tense between the two women when Sarah's father and Karen had first married, it was an odd situation after all. At first, she'd been angry and dumbfounded. She couldn't understand why two people would marry someone they knew wasn't their soulmate. Around the age of fifteen, Sarah had had an epiphany of sorts. Karen and Robert were both widowed. They'd both lost their soulmates, and instead of being alone for the rest of their lives, they'd decided to try to find happiness again in each other. It was sweet, in a slightly bitter sort of way.

After that, she'd made a conscious effort not to antagonize her stepmother. It was slow-going at first, their personalities just didn't mesh all that well, but now, after almost fifteen years, it could almost be said that the two were friends. Not particularly close friends. Sarah still thought many of the things Karen valued superficial, and Karen still believed that Sarah's intense love of fantasy was downright silly, especially for a grown woman of almost 30. Some things would never change.

"Let's just say I have an invested interest in the series," Sarah smiled secretively, glancing down at her covered forearm before refocusing on the book in her hands.

Karen raised an eyebrow at that but didn't push.

. . .

"I bet you twenty bucks that J.K. is going to kill off Dumbledore."

Sarah grinned at her friends' shocked expressions.

"You're on!" chimed Alice. "There's no way she'd kill him off!"

'You think so?' 'Sarah hid her smirk behind her coffee cup. She and her friends (plus one Toby) had just finished the fifth book, and they'd decided to meet up to talk about it. She glanced at the six other members of the group; Toby was grinning at her. "No one thought she'd kill Sirius. Still, you're probably right. Easy money, then. Any other takers?"

She grinned wickedly as all but one took the bet. 'Easy money, indeed.'

. . .

"How did you know?" asked her various friends and coworkers as they irritably handed her twenty dollar bills.

Sarah merely shrugged nonchalantly in response, grinning, and tugging at her long sleeve behind her back.

"Call it a hunch."

. . .

Jareth pushed his way into the cafe, shoving the wet strands of hair out of his eyes and turning toward the counter, glowering behind him at the pouring rain outside.

"Slow day?" He asked the barista, glancing at the mostly deserted tables.

"You could say that," the barista, Toby, according to the nametag pinned to his apron, set the book he'd been reading under the counter, "I think it might have something to do with the weather."

"What, this?" Jareth turned to look out the windows again. The rain was coming down in sheets, a storm drain on the other side of the street was overflowing. "This is just a light drizzle."

Toby snickered, "What'll you have?"

"Do you have tea? Chamomile?"

"What size?"

"Ah," Jareth paused, attempting to remember the words typically used in coffee shops for sizes, "...whatever a medium is."

The corner of Toby's mouth quirked upwards, but he chose not to say anything and punched the order into the register. "Anything else?"

"That'll be all." Jareth pulled out his wallet and, noting the mostly empty tip jar, handed him a five. "Keep the change."

Toby grinned, "Thanks, man. I'll have that right out."

Jareth nodded and turned to lean his back against the counter while he waited. A few college students were spread out at various tables, wearing headphones, typing furiously on their laptops, pausing every now and then to chug coffee or to consult one of the books in front of them. He started to turn to face the counter again, silently wondering how he was going to entertain himself until the rain stopped when his gaze landed on someone his cursory examination of the room had missed.

Seated next to one of the windows, sipping at her drink and reading a book, was a pretty brunette who looked to be much closer to his own age than that of the college students. Her hair fell over her shoulders and down her back, a silky curtain of brown so dark it was almost black. A red-and-white-striped beanie kept the loose strands of hair out of her face.

'And what a face...'

A prominent chin below pale pink lips, which were parted ever so slightly, looking far more kissable than any pair of lips had a right to look. A light dusting of freckles over a long, slender nose and rose-tinted cheeks. Dark brows set above eyes that he couldn't see the color of. She laughed and smiled at something she'd read, and he could have sworn his heart stuttered at the sight.

"Here you go, sir."

Toby's voice shook Jareth from his stupor, and he turned, with difficulty, away from the woman to face him. He blinked uncomprehendingly at the drink the barista slid across the counter to him for a moment until it finally occurred to him that he was supposed to pick it up.

"Thank you," he picked up the drink and took a tentative sip, stealing another glance over his shoulder. She was looking at him. He froze as their eyes met, clear blue staring into vivid green. A slight flush crept up her throat, and the corners of her mouth lifted into a somewhat sheepish smile as she raised one hand in a shy little wave before dropping her gaze back to her book.

Jareth grinned, "Tell me, Toby, do you know that woman?"

Toby leaned forward and followed Jareth's gaze. "The one sitting next to the window, reading?"

Jareth nodded.

"Oh, you could say that," Toby said dryly, smirking up at Jareth, "She's my sister."

Jareth's eyes flicked back to him in alarm, "Ah…"

Toby snickered at his panicked expression, "It's cool, man. She comes in here all the time, you aren't the first guy that's tried to hit on her in front of me."

He tilted his head to one side, "Tried?"

"It doesn't usually pan out."

"Might I ask why?"

Toby glanced upwards thoughtfully, "I guess you could say that none of them had the right words."

Jareth furrowed his brow, 'What does that mean?'

"I believe she's rereading the Harry Potter series right now," Toby mused aloud, picking up his book, "in case you were wondering about possible conversation topics."

Jareth blinked in surprise, "You're helping me?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "I'm a nice guy, what can I say?"

"Thanks…" Jareth said, a bit uncertainly, stepping away from the counter.

"Good luck," Toby called out as Jareth walked away. He finished under his breath, "You'll need it."

Jareth mulled over Toby's words as he approached the woman's table cautiously.

'The right words.'

He slowed as he neared the table, observing her for a moment, searching for a good opening. He noted the blue book cover in her hands. An idea popped into his head, and he stepped forward with a confident smile, hoping that it would make up for the lame icebreaker.

"Can you believe she killed Dumbledore?"

She stilled and slowly turning her head to look at him, her eyes wide with surprise. She considered him for a long moment, before the corner of her mouth suddenly ticked up into an amused smirk. She snapped her book shut and set it on the table, turning her body to face him fully with a wicked gleam in her eye.

"I suppose I've heard worse pick-up lines."

Jareth froze.

'Oh.'

A bubble of embarrassed laughter crept up his throat as he covered his face with his palm.

"Of all the bloody things…" he muttered. "I've been trying to figure out what the hell I was going to say for years!"

She laughed.

"I was pretty confused for a while there too." A devious grin curled her lips. "I made a couple hundred bucks off it once I figured it out though."

Jareth smirked.

"I think I'll like you."

She tilted her head and scrutinized him playfully.

"I suppose you'll do."

"I'm Jareth."

"Sarah."

"Sarah, I've the distinct impression that you are going to drive me absolutely barmy."

"…I think we're going to have a lot of fun together, Jareth."