With his hands in pockets, Apollo strolled down the narrow dirt path towards the village. It was on warm summer nights like these that he preferred to walk to Minstead rather than a quick apparition. He enjoyed his time beneath the giant redwoods and oaks; their large branching patterns occasionally breaking to let in the twinkling lights of the evening sky. Sometimes he heard the chirp of a cricket or the rustling of a nearby animal, but it was typically a quiet thirty minute walk that he found to be soothing.

Whistling an old tune, Apollo could see the warm glowing lights of the village center begin to grow in the distance. He was headed to The Trusty Servant – the only pub in Minstead that doubled as a bed and breakfast upstairs for the occasional tourist who wandered through. Sure the Sir Walter Tyrell pub wasn’t too far outside of town, but most of the locals wound up here at the end of the day. With a population of only four-hundred and eight, it was normal to see the same familiar faces. These were people, Apollo discovered, who greeted you with a sense of familiarity, inquired about your day, and showed concern if you missed one of the town’s organized events. It was this close sense of community that appealed to Apollo most. He found it to be the closest thing that reminded him of Louisiana since moving to the United Kingdom twenty years ago.

But it was hard to miss someone like Apollo, especially in Minstead. With a small population of muggles (and an even smaller population of wizards), he was the only redheaded American with a Southern accent. When Apollo purchased old Dexter Cuthbert’s property in 1958, he was a novelty to the residents of Minstead. He was the hot-blooded American with offbeat expressions and a disjointed use of the French language. He came from old family money rooted in the agricultural business, but had no problem rolling up his sleeves for a day’s honest work. Harrison Montagne, the only wizard to sit on the parrish council at the time, was quick to introduce himself to Apollo, and made sure to acquaint him with the thirteen other wizarding families who lived in the area. Apollo may have been different, Harrison claimed, but he was still one of them. Plus, having an Auror live locally was an added bonus.

By the time Apollo arrived at The Trusty Servant, the evening’s action was already in full swing. During the summer months, most people tended to hang around outside in the rear garden. There was often live music and the garden was decorated with lanterns and fairy lights strung up above. Even as Apollo approached the garden, he could already make out a few familiar voices and the sound of the evening’s entertainment getting ready to take their small makeshift stage. He watched as Roger, a muggle mechanic, stumbled into view – laughing uproariously with Thomas Dunkirk. It was obvious both men were already a couple pints deep and Apollo grinned at them as they passed with a rowdy welcome.

Apollo saw that the garden was nearly packed with both muggles and wizards alike. Some milled around to socialize and others were seated at the wooden picnic tables. Oskar and Hayley, both employed as servers by The Trusty Servant, ran around hurriedly trying to scribble down orders and deliver drinks to the patrons. Apollo noted several familiar faces in the crowd as well as new ones that he wasn’t so sure of. One of those families – the Davies family, he thought – was seated at a table. They were chatting with Rose Montagne, Harrison’s youngest daughter and newest parrish councilwoman, and looked happy enough to be part of the social outing. The Davies were one of the newest wizarding families to move out of the bigger cities and into a smaller community like Minstead. According to Rose, the wife was muggleborn and the husband wanted to find a place that felt safe from the growing persecution of being mixed blood. Unfortunately, they weren’t the first magical family move to Minstead under those terms. Apollo liked to see the wizarding community grow, but he didn’t like to see it being done out of fear.

Continuing to peruse the garden, Apollo noticed a wizard with a mess of black hair chatting it up with a young brunette. He looked at ease as he talked to the pretty brunette – giggling as she ate up whatever line he tossed her direction. Though he was a relative stranger to Minstead, he was a familiar sight to Apollo.

“Camulus, I’ll be damned.” Apollo called out to the man as he made his way over. “When did you get back to this side of the world?”

Hopefully the lad wasn’t too set on closing any deals tonight with his new female friend.

tagged: Camulus Patrick Sayre notes: none.