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As a fresh September breeze blew her hair into her face, Therese contemplated never leaving the island of Manhattan. The bustling city was a beautiful and intoxicating change of environment, providing her with a sense of excitement and vigor that she'd been so lost without this past year. Therese knew, somewhere past the elation she felt, that simply being away from her home and all the problems she had there could be giving her this jubilant feeling, but she liked to say that the cities of Paris and New York City were source of her happiness. Her time with her family in France had helped ease her stress-filled mind, and now the constant movement of New York kept her wanting to do everything and anything.

She had been given the portkey passes by an up and coming fashion designer she'd met in Paris. Therese would not lie, she had allowed him to sweet talk her, batting her eyes as he went on and on about how she should be his muse. It was thrilling to hear even if she knew that his intentions were not that holy; hers weren't either, and she had not met up with the man after landing in New York.

The fashion, the buildings, the people were worth the bit of trickery. Therese found herself on a bench in Central Park simply watching the muggles and wizards go by, intermingling without question. The muggles did not bat an eye at the strange fashions because they too were going through some strange trends. Therese had always enjoyed watching people, ideas swirling through her head about what their story could be. It soothed her, and she pulled her cloak a little tighter to keep her warm while she enjoyed the day.