The night was cool and damp, the world around her colored like silver from the evening rain that had ended earlier in the evening, making the streets glow as the streetlamps reflected off the pavement. The earlier rain had driven most people inside for the night to settle in for an early evening; at least in this part of the city. All that remained were a few wanderers like herself out enjoying the quiet night. Occasionally she wondered where they might be going. Home? To a late night shift? A pub? To see their friends?

As for herself, she was simply enjoying a new level freedom she hadn't experienced before. That had become the draw for her when it came to choosing to stay in London with her father for the remainder of summer as opposed to going home to her mother in Ireland. He allowed her unobstructed freedom; though one could argue about how wise it was to simply trust a sixteen year old girl with so much leeway in a city like London, where there was plenty of trouble to be found.

Regardless, he aided her potential delinquency with the Sweet Sixteen gift of a 50cc motorbike. Nothing terribly impressive as far as speed went according to Muggle rules for her age, but it was something. Transportation beyond the means of one's own feet or public transport. A boone to any teenager; and the girl took to it like a fish to water. Sure she could fly on a broom now with decent competency and confidence, but that wasn't exactly possible in a Muggle populated city like London. A motorbike meant she could go anywhere, and she could get there fast.

With her mother in the dark about her true whereabouts and under the keeping of her father, Illowy felt herself transform as though she were an entirely different person compared to who she was with her mother or at school. Her constant abiding of pomp and propriety, the expectation of being a elegant young lady and a gifted witch, it all fell away. Her choices and actions were led only based on what she wanted to do, her own instincts, and were uninhibited by such trivial consequence like parental approval. Granted, she hadn't gone full blown wild child, but she liked the idea that she could if she wanted to.

Illowy shoved her hand in her pocket and withdrew a small, silver case, pulling back the tab and tapping it against her palm until the filter end of a cigarette slid out. Poising it between her bright red lips, she dug in her pocket once more to retrieve her lighter. Such a clever little Muggle creation, she thought flipping the top of the lighter open and flicking the flame to life. She still considered herself partial to Incendio the good ol' fashioned way, but all the same, it worked.

Alright, so perhaps she allowed herself to go a little wild child. Her father kept a flat in arguably not the best part of the city, with not exactly the best people. It certainly wasn't comparable to the fine neighborhood and nice house her mother had in Dublin. What he was limited him in a lot of ways as far as luxury accommodations went within London's Wizarding community, but it was impressive for where it was. His position in wizarding society certainly hadn't impeded his taste for nice things. She learned quickly her father held a strong reputation in the community, and by extension, she benefited from it. It hadn't been difficult to narrow down one or two of age lads that were weak willed enough when propositioned by pretty face and able to be bent into doing whatever request she asked of them. Boys were terribly simple creatures. A bat of her chilly blue eyes, a couple sweet words and a cherry smile and they ate from your hand like a pigeon with bread crumbs.

The summer prior, she'd also spent a time with her father with the intention of trying to understand as well as see if he had any knowledge about the whereabouts of her cousin; which mostly came up empty. Her father had promised an enlightening summer between father and daughter. He had an angle, she knew it. She just hadn't sorted out what it was. That summer had been more or less spent in the usual way; she would study and practice, and occasionally he would help her and give her tips on her casting. Somehow she was surprised her father was as strong of a caster as he was. The man never pressed or pressured her for information about herself, but instead waited for whatever she offered up naturally to ask questions about. School, her friends, her achievements, a strangely stereotypical set of conversations one might normally have with their father. His ominous and formidable, vaguely threatening way of speaking to her like he'd done in the past didn't happen as she'd expected it to. No threats of her dark nature, no warnings that she would be alone, no questioning her capabilities to protect that which she loved. But that didn't mean everything had been all treacle and honey. She could feel it, his observation. He was ticking boxes for the traits he expected in her, even though she wasn't sure what all he was looking for exactly, nor why. He was mentally circling her and sizing her up, searching for a weakness in her. Some place to plant a seed of doubt or anger, aiming to entrap her in whatever plan he quietly had for her.

He didn't have to say it ought right for her to know that he was looking for those dark details in her. The evidence of what he believed would be her true nature in order to keep reeling her in and away from the life she was raised to have. Illowy imagined he saw some kind of use for her in whatever kind of business he kept in order to keep himself so well established now in the communities he was apart of. She wondered if that was why he granted her so much freedom; to see how far she would be willing to push the limits if only given the opportunity. Unfortunately for him, she was a young lady of some restraint and boundaries. Just because she could do something, wanted to do something, didn't mean she would.

Despite what her father thought he could see inside of her, she was resolute that she would never be like either of her parents if it was the last thing she did. She wouldn't raise in social standing the way her mother wanted her, and she wouldn't slime her way around the ninth circle of hell the way her father hoped she would. Illowy Magnard would become her own person. She would achieve the future she saw fit... otherwise how else would she survive this utter madness? The pressure on her shoulders was slowly breaking her down enough as it was. Each day, dealing with everything she had over the years between home and Hogwarts, she could feel herself inching a little closer to the edge of a complete breakdown. It was only a matter of time.

As the girl took a last drag, she flicked the bud away while the haze of smoke expelled and cascaded into the damp air from parted red lips. Her glacial gaze flicked around her once more as she pushed herself from the brick wall she'd been leaned against and started to her motorbike parked on the street. With ease, she swung her leg over and mounted the bike, smirking to herself as she turned its key and the engine revved to life and hummed beneath her. By Godric she loved this thing. She'd never guess what would have suggested to her father that such a prim lass like herself might've wanted such a thing, but she was glad he'd thought of it. If her mother knew she was riding about the streets of London alone, on a motorbike, dressed like "a common urchin" as she would've put it, Illowy was pretty sure her mother would've had a heart attack.

Another mile marker to prove that Illowy was falling further and further away from the desire to become a perfect reproduction of her mother's apparent perfection. Illowy couldn't afford perfection anymore. She couldn't try to be perfect anymore. If anything, the idea she was becoming more and more of a disappointment was a little thrilling, knowing that she was making choices because they were what she wanted. Not what Rose Magnard wanted.

Taking one last cautious look around herself, the witch kicked back the stand while she made sure no other vehicles were coming and pulled her helmet on before shooting forward into the street. She'd stayed out late enough. Sweet as the taste of freedom was, she didn't need a parent's warning or rule to decide it was time to be in for the night to continue her work and research. After all, excellence doesn't achieve itself, and she still had the desire to be better then everyone else. Even if it was only out of spite.