Flora. {Credence Barebone}

Chapter Seven.

As Flora hurried down West 24th street, she glanced up at the large brownstone which she had left this morning. The windows were open, and Flora could see the silhouette of the young maid which she had earlier stunned cleaning in her father's study. Flora put her head down and walked faster. He wasn't home yet, but if Queenie was right and he had been at Tina's trial, he would be home soon.

Thinking of Tina's trial again, Flora still didn't quite understand what had happened. Tina was a highly respected auror, what had she done to make Madam President so angry that a hearing had been called? And from what she had seen, Flora didn't think the verdict was very good. Queenie had mentioned the Second Salamers, and a boy. A boy being beaten. Thinking of the boy she smiled at each morning, Flora's pace increased even more and her heart thudded loudly as she cursed the fact that apparition was frowned upon in the streets of New York. The No-Maj problem was becoming increasingly worse, and Congress was becoming more and more paranoid as talk of the evil wizard Grindelwald had made it's way into the city.

As Flora got closer and closer to the centre of the city, the crowds became thicker. She slinked through throngs of No-Majs, searching for the boy. She didn't know where she would find him, or even if she would find him. It was well past the usual time, and she was sure that he would have already moved from this morning's location of 34th street. However, she decided that would be the first place she looked, as she pulled her pale yellow coat closer to herself and ploughed through the crowds.

Flora began to hurry as it was past afternoon, and in these winter months, the sky would begin to darken within an hour. She had never been out on her own at night before, and though there was a fire inside of her which encouraged her to embrace these scary new things, she couldn't help but want to succumb to the sense of fear that came with it.

She reached 34th street among crowds of No-Majs. There was people everywhere shouting and trying to sell newspapers, food and other things.

"Papers! Papers!" A short, tubby man with tufts of black hair called out from a pop-up stall. Flora had never been around so many No-Majs before. Yes, she walked the city every morning with Elsie, Ernest and Walter, but they certainly did their best to avoid the crowds of No-Majs, and when she walked on her own, well, she never ventured so far into the crowds. But now she was in the midst of thousands of No-Majs, busy meeting people, and hurrying to different offices and homes. She was in awe of how they all went on their way, completely oblivious to anything happening around them. Seeing their determined walks and one-thing mindset, it didn't really surprise Flora that they were unaware of the magic in their city. All of them except the New Salem Philanthropic Society, that was.

"Miss! Miss!" Flora heard the man shout again, and turned to be grabbed roughly by the shoulders. The stubby man had left his stall to grab her and haul her towards it. As she was looking around in awe, she certainly was an easy target.

"Got a clam for a paper?"

"A what?" Flora was utterly confused as she was pulled to a stop by the paper stall. She narrowed her eyes at the paper; it was strange that the pictures didn't move. She looked back up to the man who was watching her with beady eyes. "Sir, I'm sorry but-"

"New to the city, Miss?" He asked, with a grin on his sweaty face. "Here!" He said, thrusting a paper into her grasp. "A doll like you would be lookin' for a job."

Flora was about to hand the newspaper back to the eager No-Maj before she looked at the page he had opened for her. Two full pages of job listings presented themselves to her, and she couldn't help but smile at the thought of what her father would say if she arrived home with a No-Maj job. She did need to find a job though, how was she to become a Healer if she had no money to maintain a living now that she left her father's house? Frowning, Flora was about to graciously hand the paper back to the man who was now distracted talking to someone else before she was roughly jostled by a passer-by.