Through the Never

[Rafael Ochoa]

Rafael Ochoa exited a shop in Diagon Alley, contemplating the vast mysteries of a cold, uncaring universe to himself.

In reality, he was merely cursing the powers that be; he was unable to locate the book which he so powerfully desired within the walls of Flourish and Blotts, which meant that he was going to have to look a good deal harder.

Damn, damn, damn.

"Oh well," he said, folding his arms, looking about the street. Today was a not terribly busy Saturday which he had taken off in order to locate the book of his, and it was barely midday, so he didn't have to rush off to retrieve it. He didn't have any idea where to actually procure it, so it wasn't as though he could indeed rush off to retrieve it, but rather he needed to calculate a proper manner of locating the book. The contact he had within Flourish and Blotts--a young, bookish individual who had been working there for the past six years--had said that unfortunately it was not able to be ordered at the moment, but that she would look into it for him. Ochoa had thanked her and departed amicably; he had regularly picked up progressively more obscure books which piqued his interest in some manner since before he was in Hogwarts. As such he was well known to the employees over the past thirty-some-odd years, and his current contact had been working there since before Ochoa left the Auror Office. Thankfully she had not commented on it, and it wasn't exactly a topic Ochoa brought up. Ever. Not that he hadn't been asked, repeatedly, which was likely why he dropped off the radar immediately following his resignation.

But, as affairs currently stood, Ochoa was hunting a book, and as a very accomplished man in the quest for knowledge, he was in the mood to find out how to get it. As no venues for this desire to be fulfilled were in his immediate sight, he decided to casually stroll about Diagon Alley while he let the cogs in his mind work.

[Benson Niall]

[black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon]

[/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [/center]

Finally, Benson had a day off. He thought maybe after a horrible week, maybe a nice stroll through Diagon Alley would be best. Some of the Aurors that he had trained this week seemed like they would be hopeless with the Ministry. One of them couldn’t even how to make it stop a boggart the right way. Jeez, where did they get these kind of people? Right from a dark alley? Benson sure hope they didn’t. The Ministry seemed like it was going down hill. Maybe next week would go better for them, hopefully. They are going to see if they can make a good enough patronus.

Seeing the sun out, Benson used his wand to apparate to his destination. Good thing he didn’t have to teach the trainees that one because Hogwarts or other magical schools were suppose to do that for them. Benson didn’t want to deal with people getting splinched and what not. Too messy for him.

Sticking his hands into his coat pocket, he made his way through the mass of people. He remembered coming here a lot with Karen…damn… did he miss her more than anything. He really needed to move on, but how could he? She was his life. He thought that he would have more time with her, grow old with her and what not, but no, she was taken from him. Like tearing his heart from his chest.

What got him out of his depressive memories, Benson accidentally bumped into someone. [black]”Oh, I‘m sorry.”[/black] Looking up, Benson realized that he had seen this man before… thinking back, he remembered who he was. This man was Rafael Ochoa. He had heard his name before used in the Ministry. Used to be one badass Auror they said. [black]”Sorry about that, Mr. Ochoa. I didn’t see you. My apologies.”[/black] He said with a concerned face.

[black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon]

[/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size]
[/center]

[Rafael Ochoa]

Ochoa felt someone bump into him, which immediately set off all kinds of warning bells--the urge to whip around and curse them immediately not the least of such reactions--but contained himself, since it was Diagon Alley and, after all, he wasn't under any sort of attack, as far as he could tell.

He turned, relaxing his muscles by sheer force of will, and looked at the man who bumped into him. He recognized a certain Mister Benson Niall, a former coworker who had been in the Admissions branch of the Auror Department.

"Quite forgivable, Mister Niall," said Ochoa. "Though I do believe we're far enough past formalities for you to be calling me Mister Ochoa, Rafael is more than adequate," he said with a kind smile.

Ochoa quite liked the young Auror, though he had a habit of liking most Aurors, this one in particular was a young man with a good heart, to Ochoa's not unimpressive knowledge. Wife had died a while back, a few years maybe? Ochoa didn't remember the particulars, but he remembered the look on the younger man's face at the funeral. A tragedy.

"Now, dare I ask what brings you to Diagon Alley on a Saturday morning?" said Ochoa, conversationally.

[Benson Niall]

[black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon]

[/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [/center]

Benson gave a nod and a small smile as he put out his hand so that Mister Ochoa… or Rafael would shake. [black]”As the same goes for you then. You may call me Benson.”[/black] Keeping the small smile on his face. Benson hadn’t really had a full blown smile in maybe a long time, so a small one was good for him.

When he had heard Rafael’s question as to why he was out this morning, Benson sighed and looked around, [black]”Ah just walking around. Maybe he could go to the bookstore and find a book to read.”[/black] Saying with a shrug of his shoulders. Anything to relax at home. Benson thought. Penelope, his pet owl, was basically his best friend since he didn’t have any left. He had gone anti-social recently. So it was really nice to talk to someone for a change outside of work.

Scratching the back of his head and looking around, Benson realized that there was a lot of people out today. Maybe because it was the weekend and wizards are getting their stuff on this great, sunny day. Looking back to Rafael, [black]”How about you? What brings you out here?”[/black] Looking around again, he said, [black]”Maybe you came out like the others. The great weather.”[/black] Indicating the sun peeking out finally.

[black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon]

[/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size]
[/center]

[Rafael Ochoa]

Ochoa took Benson's hand in a firm grasp and shook it, nodding. "Benson it is, then." Ochoa had a funny habit with naming--he almost perpetually addressed people by their surname accompanied by an honorific. It was his manner of politesse, so to speak, that perhaps was an affect of his general attitude.

Then again, plenty of people just chalked it up to him being batty.

"Ah, I quite agree," he said, smiling as Benson mentioned the idea of going to find a book to read. He had himself been doing just that, funny enough, and it was as good as any auspice for him that Benson was to bring up that same matter. "Books serve to show a man that his original thoughts aren't quite so new after all," he said, smiling.

"I myself was just searching for a book, as a matter of strict fact," answered Ochoa. "I figured I'd come here before exhausting other methods of discover, but I don't suppose you would know the location of a copy of Aristotle's On Comedy, would you? I can't for the life of me find one."

[Benson Niall]

[black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon]

[/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [/center]

Shaking Rafael’s hand, Benson noticed that he had a firm grip, which was good. What his dad had taught Benson from early on was that to have a firm grip while shaking someone’s hand showed politeness. Like during an interview for a job, you would shake hands with a good grip. Benson hasn’t fully understood it, but to him, it meant that they at least put some effort into it.

Smiling a little bit, Benson nodded, [black]”You are right. Sometimes books can give men also to make things better.”[/black] Which was sometimes true. Records of inventions are sometimes logged down. People read them and eventually start making the products better by building new things.

Hearing the book Rafael was searching for, Benson shook his head. [black]”I’m sorry, I don’t know what that book is to be exact. I know of Aristotle though if that helps.”[/black] Benson only read books on wars and historical events of the world. It had fascinated him since he was a child. He is a Muggleborn, which would make his parents Muggles. His mother liked history a lot too which is why Benson read a lot of things about it. He missed his parents. They moved away when Karen died, thinking that it would happen to them as well.

Looking up and down the street, Benson looked at Rafael, [black]”Care to walk and tell me more about this book? Feels like we are in the middle of the way.”[/black] He said looking around some more. The people were trying to get by them and one of them giving Benson a rude stare. It would be best to move and talk.

[black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon]

[/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size] [black]-[/black] [maroon]-[/maroon][/size]
[/center]

[Rafael Ochoa]

Ochoa nodded, letting go of Benson's hand. "I believe almost wholeheartedly in books as the best means of teaching, apart from self-practice, of course." He smiled. "Though I don't think anything less of you, of course, I do recall you giving the recruits quite the rigorous study." Ochoa had always thought well of Benson's abilities as a training officer.

He gave a few individuals a disapproving look as they passed by. "Yes, of course, let us walk," he said, and started at an even pace, figuring if Benson had any issue with it that it would become apparent with body language.

"Oh well," Ochoa said, "nor did the staff at Flourish and Blotts. Apparently their Muggle selection is ever growing, but not nearly to the point where every book which I am curious about comes up. But I heard about the book in question within the confines of another book I was reading, apparently On Comedy has quite the history. Naturally I wanted to look into it, could one blame me?"