Moving from Bulgaria had, so far, been the best thing Wesley could have hoped for. It was a fresh start, away from his brother, and the other students who believed that the Dark Arts were the only way you could survive. The dark times of his previous six years at school had been put behind him, but Wesley was by no means settled in his new surroundings.
His accent stood out like a sore thumb against the English. He could see, at times, people trying quite hard to understand his perfectly fluent English because of his accent. This made him want to talk less, in truth, because he was socially awkward enough, without people staring intently at him to make sure they understood what he was saying to them.
Wesley had found himself in Diagon Alley again - having forgotten some of his school things upon meeting one Madison Bishop, he'd had to return. He'd paused,
though, in front of the magical menagerie, simply watching some of the animals for a moment. He'd never wanted one, truthfully, but animals were kinda cool. From a distance...
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