|Cameron W. Grayson|
Mesaje : 16
Data de înscriere : 27/07/2011
|Subiect: -long distance call Dum Iul 31, 2011 3:23 pm|| |
It wasn’t as though he needed to hurry up.
The neckerchief was keeping him a little bit warm, and so did his cloak; but it wasn’t enough. He was walking a little hunched over, his hands in his pockets as he fumbled through bits of parchment and old Muggle money no longer in use that he had kept for memories; he was trying to find some money, for he had to change it to Muggle money so he could pay his part for the apartment he and his cousin shared. He had told him many times to pay it all for them, but then his cousin had told him that this time, he had to do it.
And he didn’t find any work.
He looked around as he turned around a corner into an alley and huddled the cloak closer as he lowered his head. The day was windy, a little bit too windy, and London was once again on the edge of being rained onto. He wasn’t as cold, for the cloak was thick, but he, whom had grown in Texas, was still not warm enough. Glancing at a window of a shop, he flinched and averted his eyes quickly, not really wanting to see the bruise on his face again. He had gotten into a fight after he had stolen whatever money a Pureblooded man had hours ago, and he still had a deep cut on his lip and that fucking stupid bruise that made him look terrible. His eyes didn’t shine anymore; dull and dark, they seemed lifeless behind his glasses, and he was paler than usually, his hair ruffled, tangled even so slightly. He didn’t look like the happy Cameron many had seen at school. He was a different Cameron. Someone completely different.
Distracting himself from such thoughts, he ran a hand through his hair absently and ducked into a shadow as a couple of Aurors—he recognized them by the signs on their cloaks—leapt through the middle of the Knockturn alley, yet so close to him that if he’d extended a hand, he could have tapped them on their shoulders. He knew they were after him and his fingers clutched the wand in his pocket, but he managed to stop himself in time from withdrawing it and hexing anyone nearby. Keeping his gaze downwards, he rushed to the “Borgin and Burkes” shop and halted in front of it, gulping slightly.
It was the only place where he could get work without being recognized by any of his acquintances at Hogwarts, and the most horrible in which one could actually work. He shuddered slightly, hesitating between going in or leaving to find a place to work in the Muggle world. He had heard that Voldemort himself had worked there before killing the one who’d had the Hufflepuff Cup and the Slytherin Locket, and he didn’t want to take after his steps. He wasn’t a Slytherin, of course, yet he still didn’t know what was going to happen if he managed to get into working at the shop. The only reassuring thing was that he wasn’t going to meet any of the persons which knew him from Hogwarts—if he got in working at that shop.
He bit down his lip and had to hiss out a breath of pain as he felt the taste of blood against his tongue. It had been a bad idea to bite down his new wound, so he simply gazed up at the dusty sign, at the dirty windows, down at the rusty door handle. He didn’t know what to do. He had done terrible things, horrible things to get enough money to buy his books and cloaks and whatever he’d needed, and he didn’t even want to remember them. It was too painful, even for him. He closed his eyes for one split second, before he breathed in and entered the shop, the door creaking as he opened and closed it behind.
As his eyes grew accommodated with the lack of light, he heard someone clear their throats and stepped forward, shuffling his hands awkwardly as he met Borgins’s descendant’s gaze—he had seen him before in the papers. He was as old as then, but he seemed rougher and even worser. Cameron had to stifle a shiver as the man’s eyes lingered upon his cut lip and his bruised face, then he stepped forward and began talking.
“I hear you had free working spots.”
“We do not,” barked Borgins the second, making Cameron flinch. “You can get out.”
“Please—I’ll do anything,” said Cameron, blinking slightly. “I really need the money.” He didn’t elaborate, but stared at the man until he began mumbling and shaking his head.
“Maybe we can find some spot for you,” said the man on a softer tone, frowning. “Are ye good at finding stuff? We could use someone to find us dark artefacts.”
“Good enough,” replied Cameron, smiling slightly and feeling a little happy though he knew what he was getting into. “When do I begin work?” When Borgin raised an eyebrow, he quickly added, “Sir?”
“Two days from now.”
“I…” he seemed to have an inner fight and he looked away, biting down his lip once more as he seemed on the edge of breaking down. “Okay,” he said quickly with a small smile and turned away.
Cameron blinked afterwards and something in his eyes faded away. He nodded sternly, murmured a ‘g’bye’ and got out of the shop as soon as possible. It wasn’t raining yet, but there were some drops of water falling here and there, but he didn’t leave just as yet, his face even paler than before—he had to find money so that he could pay the rent of the apartment, and he had to pay it that day or the day after. He stood at the door of the shop, staring ahead, eyes unseeing as he tried to find a solution to his problem.
He didn’t want to do what he had done before. He didn’t want to. But if he didn’t get enough money soon, he was going to be forced to do it.
Mesaje : 491
Data de înscriere : 25/04/2010
Vârsta : 20
|Subiect: Re: -long distance call Lun Aug 01, 2011 1:27 am|| |
Nocturn Alley was my favourite place to walk. It was silent. Full of weird people. But still silent. I knew that place better than my own pockets. I was going there when I was preoccupied by something. When I needed to think. I even had an apartment on my own there. Nocturn Alley was the right place for me. But it still had something to hide, usually. Everyday I discovered something new.
But was that blonde, tall guy? That I saw almost running. Tall. Blonde. Blue eyes. Big eyeglasses. He looked unusual for my eyes, but still too usual for Nocturn Alley. I followed him. After he stood in front of Borgin & Burkes shop, he entered. He remained inside quite a while. But I didn’t left. I waited. And thought. Who was that man? Why was he almost running? Was he hiding from something? Did he stole something? Was he cold? His cloak was long, and seemed thick. Indeed it was a rainy day. But my cloak wasn’t so thick. Still. That didn’t matter. Rain was coming over London. Quite usual weather. But not quite usual rain. That rain was predicting something bad. I could feel that. I shivered and banished that thought. I didn’t like that. It crept me out. I thought I should leave. Maybe I shouldn’t stalk that guy. Maybe he was just an ordinary guy, shopping. But he wasn’t an ordinary guy. I could sense that. But what was I thinking? I couldn’t stalk a guy, just because he seemed unordinary. So I thought I should leave. But I couldn’t. Something kept me there. But what?
The blonde guy came out of the store. I was starring right at him. He saw me. And then, our looks met. I was gazing into his deep blue eyes. Too beautiful to be real. Too beautiful to be good. Something was wrong. But I couldn’t think at that. His eyes hypnotized me. He saw something in my eyes and I saw something in his. But what did he see, and what did I see? Didn’t know the answer to that question. But I knew that I had to find out more about him. To know him. I became obsessed with him. Obsessed with his eyes. With his personality. With everything. Everything about him. I simply had to know all about him asap.
But the gazing stopped. He started walking backwards, and then he turned his head. The blue eyes were gone. First, I wanted to stalk him, I find out where he was going. But I simply couldn’t. For the simple reason that he vanished. I couldn’t see him anymore. I felt weird. I felt empty. Was I going to see him again? I hoped so. Because when he left, a part of me left. A part that seemed to be taken away from my eyes. His eyes took it.
I turned around and went to my place. I tried to eat something, but I couldn’t. Simply couldn’t. I tried to eat. Same result. I was thinking about him. Why was he so special? What was so weird about him? I didn’t know. But I had to find out soon. I crashed on my bed and fell asleep.
|Cameron W. Grayson|
Mesaje : 16
Data de înscriere : 27/07/2011
|Subiect: Re: -long distance call Lun Aug 01, 2011 3:35 pm|| |
He felt a gaze lock onto him and he looked up immediately, meeting the girl’s eyes: he had seen her before at Hogwarts and to see her now, while he was exiting one of the shops known for selling things enchanted with Dark magic was like a car had crashed on top of him. His eyes glinted with fear as he stood there, hoping for the girl to walk away—but she didn’t. He cast one last glance over to her and stepped in the rain, turned round and headed for Diagon Alley.
The Muggle world was so different from the Wizarding one that, for a second, he felt lost in the mass of people going up and down the street. He didn’t know which way to go for it was too crowded to see any street signs or figure out a way to escape, so he simply fell in step besides three other non-magical persons and trailed reductantly behind them when they hurried up after looking at him with big eyes, noticing his bruise and his cut lip. Cameron only frowned and kept on moving, trying to avert his thoughts from anything else as he hurried alongside others, but, as he turned around the corner to go to his and his cousin’s flat, everything became even more real.
He didn’t have any money to give him, and he kenw that he should have gotten some. Dean was one impatient person, and by showing up home with nothing but a few bucks wasn’t going to make him happy at all—probably, he was going to get yelled at. Yet, it wasn’t his fault that he had moved in London and was sharing the apartment; it was his parents’ for being misunerstanding, unlike the rest of his relatives, who had accepted him quite easily after the huge fight he’d had with his mum and dad. And now, as rain tangled in his hair and soaked his clothes just like the freezing air made him shiver constantly, he was grateful for that.
He’d forgotten the key to the building again, but a quick withdraw of his wand and a hushed whisper allowed him to enter quite easily, letting the door close behind him as he jogged up the concrete stairs. It was still schoolyear, so he could use magic, and it was fortunate for him to be so close to his and his cousin’s apartment that he could visit him every now and then he went in the Diagon Alley. They had both chosen that flat because it was the closest to both King’s Cross and the alley from where Cameron bought his books and whatever he needed for school, and it had also been quite cheap to pay each month the rent—well, it had been and it was for Dean.
Knocking on the door a couple of times to signal that it was him at the door, he was answered almost ten minutes later by a hazel-eyed, brown-haired and tall man who looked as though he had just left the shower, for his hair was dripping wet. Cameron cracked a smile and opened his mouth to speak when Dean grabbed him by the arm, frowned, and pulled him to the kitchen with mumbles after he closed the door.
“I told you not to stay in the rain,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re such an idiot, Cameron.”
“Sorry,” said Cameron, still standing in the hall, where there were no windows and he was in the shadow, hoping his bruise wasn’t going to be seen easily from there. “I just wanted to pass by to tell you that I still don’t have the money.”
Dean nodded slightly, but he didn’t seem annoyed at all as he turned to face the counter and fumbled around with his things. “Alright. Take off your cloak, you’re gonna catch a cold.”
As he stepped in the light and untied the knot with numb fingers, he tried to stay with his back at Dean as much as possible. He took off his cloak, the few galleons he had making no sound—he needed those for latter so he could buy dinner—and only then remembered the girl and began panicking.
Had she seen him in the shop aswell? Had she seen him talking to Borgin’s son? Was she thinking he was in all of the ‘Dark magic’ alliance, rooting for those who had destroyed the village where the Gaunts had lived? Perhaps she was going to talk with someone to catch him and throw him in Azkaban, perhaps she was simply scared and was going to gossip with her friends about seeing ‘that blond-haired weird’ in B and B’s shop, or perhaps she wasn’t going to do anything. As he was thinking like that, trying to calm down, he was unaware that he had turned and had sat down onto a chair at the table, only realizing that when Dean began staring at him. Sensing he was looked at again, he looked up and blinked: his cousing was staring directly at the bruise on his face.
“It’s nothing, I swear,” he said quickly, raising his hands at the level of his face, palms turned towards his cousin. “Just got into a fight.”
“A ‘fight’? For what? Money again?” Dean set down a coffee cup and Cameron accepted it gladly, curling his fingers around it and its hotness. “I told you, you don’t have to do it, I still have enough money from Auntie—”
“It’s okay.” Cameron’s tone was normal as he lifted the cup to his lips and looked at Dean. “It’s okay, really, I’m fine with that.”
His cousin didn’t say anything, but gazed at him suspiciously, and then they began talking about totally different stuff. Cameron’s grades, Cameron’s school, Cameron’s everything until one point the coffee was done and it was nearly night and Cameron really had to go back home.
But, as Cameron got out of the building at least and headed not for King’s Cross but for Diagon Alley so he could go to Borgin and Burkes again, he knew that he was to meet the gal again and talk to her, perhaps erase her memory. His left hand tightened around his wand as he passed by unknown Muggles and his expression darkened even so slightly—he didn’t want to do it, but he knew he had to if he met her. And so, with that thought in his mind, he haded for Knockturn Alley.
|Subiect: Re: -long distance call Astazi la 6:02 pm|| |