I crack one eye open and roll quickly to the side of the bed.
“Ben. Never. Ever. Get in my face in the morning, especially when I’m supposed to be seeing Susan there …”
“Sorry, you were moaning. Blimey you look bad.” Ben’s one of those annoying people who can get up in the morning ready to go. But then again, that’s probably because when he was a kid he wasn’t used to breakfast and Saturday morning cartoons. He hands me a black coffee.
“I haven’t been drinking, Ben. And where’s Susan? Was she mad when she saw me?” I assume Susan must be at work.
“She wasn’t home last night,” Ben informs me. She sent a message through the fireplace, though, that she wouldn’t be home. Got a break on a case.” Ben holds up a bandaged hand. I’ve told him a million times not to reach into the floo once the green flames are gone and the fireplace resumes its original purpose.
Unwrapping Ben’s hand and doing a healing charm on the burns, I listen as Ben tells me that Susan had come home for a brief minute, changed clothes and then left.
“Thanks,” Ben says, wiggling his fingers as if not believing the pain he must have been in is gone.
I drag myself to the shower and revel in the steam. My ribs are healed but the bruises remain. Wiping the steam from the mirror as I step out, I watch as my pupils grow smaller with the light that filters in through the window. Good, now I don’t have to tell Susan about yesterday.
“Are you leaving already?” Ben calls from around the corner from the kitchen as I dress in the bedroom.
“Yeah, I’m going to take Susan some coffee from the new bakery across the street." And I am going to stop by Terry's and try to get rid of this book.
I toss Ben some Muggle money, which he looks about to protest over, but he pockets it never the less.
“I’ll see you around lunch."
“Oh, okay,” he tells me. He looks around the empty flat and I know I’ve been lousy company lately. Susan and I have been so busy that we haven’t seen each other, in fact, Susan’s been so busy she has barely complained about Ben being here.
“Wanna come?” I ask.
Ben’s got his tattered shoes on in seconds. I grab the satchel that holds the still silent book. That must have been one hell of a charm Padma performed on it.
When We get to Terry’s shop, he’s just opening up. I hadn’t realized I’d spent so much time down there …
“Can I help you?” Terry asks.
I stare at him.
Then I catch a glimpse of myself in the antique mirror on his wall that’s up for sale for fifteen galleons.
“Don’t look so shocked sonny, you look like a street urchin,” the mirror informs me.
Terry puts a sheet over the mirror and turns back to face me.
“Terry, it’s me, Justin,” I point out, wiping my face.
“Oh, I thought you might have been sent by B--- .”
“By Beeeeeee, who’s Beeeee?” I tease back.
“No one,” Terry tells me and I know he’s lying but I really need to go home for a shower and I just want to get rid of this book. Terry knows more about these things than I do.
I reach into the satchel and pull out the book which begins to hiss as soon as the light from the few candles in Terry’s shop illuminate its cover.
Don’t give away glory, bask in it yourself.
“Ben. Never. Ever. Get in my face in the morning, especially when I’m supposed to be seeing Susan there …”
“Sorry, you were moaning. Blimey you look bad.” Ben’s one of those annoying people who can get up in the morning ready to go. But then again, that’s probably because when he was a kid he wasn’t used to breakfast and Saturday morning cartoons. He hands me a black coffee.
“I haven’t been drinking, Ben. And where’s Susan? Was she mad when she saw me?” I assume Susan must be at work.
“She wasn’t home last night,” Ben informs me. She sent a message through the fireplace, though, that she wouldn’t be home. Got a break on a case.” Ben holds up a bandaged hand. I’ve told him a million times not to reach into the floo once the green flames are gone and the fireplace resumes its original purpose.
Unwrapping Ben’s hand and doing a healing charm on the burns, I listen as Ben tells me that Susan had come home for a brief minute, changed clothes and then left.
“Thanks,” Ben says, wiggling his fingers as if not believing the pain he must have been in is gone.
I drag myself to the shower and revel in the steam. My ribs are healed but the bruises remain. Wiping the steam from the mirror as I step out, I watch as my pupils grow smaller with the light that filters in through the window. Good, now I don’t have to tell Susan about yesterday.
“Are you leaving already?” Ben calls from around the corner from the kitchen as I dress in the bedroom.
“Yeah, I’m going to take Susan some coffee from the new bakery across the street." And I am going to stop by Terry's and try to get rid of this book.
I toss Ben some Muggle money, which he looks about to protest over, but he pockets it never the less.
“I’ll see you around lunch."
“Oh, okay,” he tells me. He looks around the empty flat and I know I’ve been lousy company lately. Susan and I have been so busy that we haven’t seen each other, in fact, Susan’s been so busy she has barely complained about Ben being here.
“Wanna come?” I ask.
Ben’s got his tattered shoes on in seconds. I grab the satchel that holds the still silent book. That must have been one hell of a charm Padma performed on it.
When We get to Terry’s shop, he’s just opening up. I hadn’t realized I’d spent so much time down there …
“Can I help you?” Terry asks.
I stare at him.
Then I catch a glimpse of myself in the antique mirror on his wall that’s up for sale for fifteen galleons.
“Don’t look so shocked sonny, you look like a street urchin,” the mirror informs me.
Terry puts a sheet over the mirror and turns back to face me.
“Terry, it’s me, Justin,” I point out, wiping my face.
“Oh, I thought you might have been sent by B--- .”
“By Beeeeeee, who’s Beeeee?” I tease back.
“No one,” Terry tells me and I know he’s lying but I really need to go home for a shower and I just want to get rid of this book. Terry knows more about these things than I do.
I reach into the satchel and pull out the book which begins to hiss as soon as the light from the few candles in Terry’s shop illuminate its cover.
Don’t give away glory, bask in it yourself.
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