due date
( index ! )
"Could you stop leaving pentagrams around the place?
You're scaring the clientele."
SYNOPSIS
¨I ought to clobber you for even daring to come back here.¨
--
Eloise is having a rather peculiar week.
A man prone to muttering in an ancient language stalks the halls of the library every day, before loaning a book he plucks from whatever shelf he is standing near. He terrorises the local public, her sanity, and her books, bumbling around in his cable-knit jumpers and comically oversized jeans. A lovely older lady confesses that she suspects that the man is involved in satanic rituals — how scandelous, utterly, utterly delicious and so stupid.
He is a mess of a human being — a senile grandfather imprisoned in a lanky adult's reanimated corpse. He is the most annoying man on earth, she despises the air he breathes, the ground he walks on. Eloise, is simply put, utterly obsessed.
He joins her other subjects of study, and his foggy figure crystallizes under the unyielding glare of her eyes — and what revelations she has. That investigation, however, crumbles into dust under the heel of her rapidly unspooling reality — swiftly, the whispers of occult activity reach her previously indifferent ear.
Mother forgive her, she was going to seek help from a Satanist.
--
In a different part of the United Kingdom, Ron tears through his house in search of missing book, before realizing where he must have misplaced it. Hopefully, muggle libraries aren't as secure as Gringotts.
--
Hermione Granger receives a crumpled letter from a very frazzled friend, in which he tries to convince her that extending her trip is actually a splendid idea and how she needs a holiday anyway, truly, 'mione.
She just hopes he fixes whatever mess he has gotten into before she gets back.
Honestly.
YOU ARE READING
due date - R. WEASLEY
Fanfiction"Hi, could you stop leaving pentagrams around? You're scaring the clientele." -- [extended summary inside!] Eloise Achard has an improbably high tolerance for peculiar things. The slog of working too many part-times in her youth, has burned away hal...