Shut Up, Padfoot!

85

"Excuse me, we have an appointment. Is Mr. Bellerose available right now?" Pandora announced.

The lady at the front desk peered at us over her thick framed glasses. Her nasty gaze made me sharply return the favor, burning my look with my tilted chin. She blinked and flipped a few pages. Flickering my eyes to her name tag, I read 'Amelia.'

Her beaded jewelry clacked everytime she made a move, suiting unfavorably amongst her bright lilac two set. I tapped my fingernail on the counter, impatiently leaning as well.

Pandora elbowed me, shooting a disapproving look to me. As she refocused, she cracked a couple knuckles. She's just as frustrated as I am. We waited for an hour in the waiting room. There is a cluster of people behind us too.

Amelia clicked her gum, snapping me back to reality. Her cheek visibly moved as she gnawed on that chunk. Humming, she finally looked up.

"Yes, here you are. Once his door opens, you can enter," she said.

Holding back the groan at the more time we have to wait, I settled my weight back on both legs. Thankfully, his door did open right when we moved away from the desk.

I unzipped my purse, rummaging around the bottom of it. My wand is somewhere in here. I want to be prepared in case he demands us to leave.

Someone bumped into my shoulder.

Stumbling a few steps away, my lip curled in anger. I whipped my head around to try to catch a glimpse of the suspect. And maybe I could send him off with a scolding and middle finger.

He turned back as well, stopping in his tracks. We made eye contact and a familiar feeling swept over the atmosphere. I furrowed my brows and scanned him over.

I could see the tip of his wand poking from the cuff of his sleeve, ready to use at any moment. Sirius used to hold his wand like that during D.A.D.A. lessons. Ignoring it, I remembered what I was going to do.

"Watch where you're going, pisshat," I scowled.

"Pardon me," he murmured.

"What was that?" I questioned.

"I said-"

"Miss, I think something has happened to Mr. Bellerose," Pandora interrupted.

The sudden statement caused me to forget all about the mysterious man. I spun back around, frowning. Amelia stood from her desk, confusion written all over her expression. She stepped away from her wheel-y chair and hurried to his office.

I could see from that end of the hallway the door was ajar. Papers scattered the ground and mahogany desk. Drawers pulled open and books thrown to the floor.

My blood struck cold when my vision fell to a hand on the carpet. The limp arm laid motionless.

"Dora- did you see-?"

She grabbed my arm, pushing me down the waiting room. She replied, "No, I didn't. I was too scared to look more. We've got to get out here."

I swallowed and agreed, rushing out the way we came from. We had no time to see the reactions of Amelia and the curious waiting clients. Our footsteps echoed as we hurried to the elevator once more.

In a flash, the button was pressed, our palms on the handles, and movement of the elevator sent us backward.

"Dora, I think the man that bumped into me did it," I nervously admit.

"What? What man?" she questioned.

Since no one else was in the elevator with us, I spoke out, "The man! He bumped into me on the way out of Bellerose's office. He left while you were talking to the lady, I held him up a bit though."

She pulled her turtleneck away from her throat, the adrenaline kicking in. We just got to the second level. I think the busiest parts of the day is over so no one hailed the elevator from the second floor considering we continued with no stop.

"Should we go after him?" she suggested.

"I- I think I knew him. I think we should," I confirmed.

The gate slid to the side, allowing us to return to the Atrium. A few wizards and witches appeared and walked towards whatever business. The fountain roared with water spewing from its decorative holes.

I see him.

I see his back. He's walking to the other adjacent elevator that came from the red phone booth. So that means he came from the same place we did.

"Cry, where is he? Do you see him?" she frantically asked.

"Yeah, I do. Let's go."

I speedily walked, almost breaking out into a sprint. Shit, he just boarded the elevator. We're not even halfway across the Atrium.

Clenching my jaw, I grasped Pandora's wrist. With a pull, I fastened the pace. I didn't let her say anything when I started to lightly jog.

The feeling of my usual long hair fell atop my shoulders. The urgency of the situation just got worse when I realised my metamorphmagus isn't holding up. When I get scared or stressed, it really doesn't do well with my powers.

"Cry! Put it back! Put your appearance back up," she whispered.

"I can't!" I hissed.

We reached the elevator, finally coming back to our level. We boarded hastily, immediately ascending. Maybe we can reach him.

Is this a good idea? He could be dangerous, especially after seeing what happened to Bellerose. But this person seemed like someone I knew. My instincts never are wrong. I have to trust them.

My anxiety heightened the higher we got, the lighter it got. I stood at the entrance, preparing myself the moment we can get out. I squeezed my wand tightly. My other hand buzzed with magic, ready to be released.

"What are we going to do? What if we lose him? Cry, what's our plan? I don't have any control over this, I can't make a plan right now," Pandora spluttered, panic in her tone.

"I've got it handled. Just stand back," I firmly ordered.

She pressed herself into the telephone, her hand bracing against the side. From my peripheral vision, I saw her wand shaking in her grip. She's being quiet but I know she's worried.

I think she saw what happened in Bellerose's office. She lied to me to not make me afraid. But once the shock faded, she's realizing what's going on genuinely.

The sidewalk began to appear above head. Early evening light filtered in with street lamps. I registered the road and the buildings coming into view. This is it.

Completely, I saw London again. We came to a full stop, my hand pushing on the red entrance.

I stepped on cement, my wand in the air.

"Cry?"

-lana