Marauders - Always - Part One

Summer 2015

Summer 2015

I was running late. But what else was new?

I was just starting a new job, I should really be on time at least on my first day. But my stupid alarm clock didn't go off like it was supposed to and I spilled coffee on the shirt I'd meant to wear to work so I had to go change, and now I was standing in the kitchen, cursing the Mr. Coffee machine for working too slow.

"Just BREW THE COFFEE!" I yelled at it as it gurgled.

From my apartment, I could hear the traffic on the Interstate, hear sirens and honking horns. The commute wasn't going to be on my side. Getting from the south side to downtown was never easy, but it sounded like it was going to be particularly irksome that morning.

There was a banging on the door.

"What the actual hell?" I growled. Mr. Coffee kept gurgling and I went to the door.

On the landing of the stairs was a guy with bright blue hair and bushy black eyebrows, a bit of a five o'clock shadow dusting his chin. He wore a bright orange athletic jersey with a big picture of - was that a basketball? I'm hopeless when it comes to sports. He was out of breath, like he'd just run a great distance, and he leaned against the frame of the door, panting, staring at me and clutching a piece of paper in his hand. He looked at the paper, looked up at me, then back at the paper. 

"Wait, who the fuck are you?" he asked. He had an extremely thick British accent. Which I loved, but I really didn't have time for him, British or not.

"You're the one that knocked on my door," I reminded him. I could hear the coffee pot finishing up. 

"This can't be right. YOU can't be right." He looked at the paper again, backing up and looking at the number beside my door, then glancing around. "GODS why are Americans so bloody confusing with their addressing? Like, why the fuck aren't these buildings in alphabetical order?"

"Questions we all ask," I answered. "Look, I don't really have time to talk..."

The guy pressed his fingers against his nose, squeezing the bridge of it. "Okay. Ok. Alright. Ok. Let's see. Let me back up and just -" he took a deep breath, centering himself. "My name is Declan Aletric. Is this where I am?" he held out the paper.

I took it and stared at it for a moment, then looked up at him. "Where did you get this?"

It was a piece of an old envelope from a prop replica I had custom made at the Harry Potter theme park in Florida when I was on vacation the week before. I'd lost it somehow on my way home. 

I looked up at the guy, suddenly extremely creeped out. My face got red-hot. "Look, I don't know who you are, but I'm going to need you to leave. Now."

"No, wait - wait - wait. I can explain. Well, sort of. Honestly, darling, it's really going to be quite convoluted and you're going to think I'm absurd no matter what I say but I really need you to at least try and hear me out and keep an open mind and --"

"Dude, I'm not playing with you alright, I'll call the cops."

He started to say something but before he could, I slammed the door shut and locked it. Bolted it. Slid the chain. I backed up from the door. I wished my sister's dog was bigger and more vicious, I'd sick her on him but honestly the little pekingese in the other room wasn't very terrifying. Like, she'd probably lick him to death.

I peered through the peep hole in the door.

The blue haired guy was still there, clutching the envelope. He touched the numbers nailed to the side of the door, shaking his head and checking the envelope again. He looked around. I watched as he reached into his shirt, then, and pulled out what looked like a replica of the time turner from Prisoner of Azkaban.

So he had followed me back from the park somehow, the freaking creeper. 

I shook my head and reached into my purse, which was hanging around my shoulders, and pulled out my cell phone. I had the number dialed when I looked back through the peep hole, though, he was gone.

I hesitated. 

I went to the window and peered through the blinds.

No weird cars anywhere, no sign of the guy anywhere.

I backed up, away from the window and went to the door, slowly unlocking it and cracked it opened and stuck my head outside. 

It was like he'd just disappeared.

"Weird," I muttered, creeped out.

My alarm on my phone went off again.

"Ugh!" I gasped and I rushed out the door, locked it, and ran down the stairs to the parking lot. I was halfway to work, stuck in traffic on the interstate, when I realized that I'd forgotten my coffee.

Also...I could've sworn it was 7:50 when I'd been dealing with Mr. Blue-Hair, but somehow my clock now read 7:30 and I wasn't going to be late for work after all.