Cause & Effect | Ominis Gaunt Love Story

Chapter 8: Runaway Princess

Another voice interjected, "You're supposed to be patrolling with Lucan. That was the condition so you didn't get suspended. Clopton, take Brattleby to the infirmary. That spell should wear off in the next thirty minutes." He paused, "What were you both doing down here?"

"Looking for rats. Eden's hungry." He replied cheerfully, but somehow Stella felt he was making a mockery out of something. Or someone. It was hard to tell since his voice was so smooth and polite. Unless he said something directly outlandish, it was like he was having fun at everyone's expense. "Do take care of Brattleby while I look for Eden. She tends to bite when she's hungry. Females of all species tend to be like that. Easily angered when famished."

A few pairs of boots were heard fading away finally, but one of the men must have stuck by. "Whatever you're up to, you'd better quit. Weasley said he saw you by Whitechapel just before midnight. That's his case to solve, not yours."

"Careful, Dane." He drawled lackadaisically, but there was an edge to his voice that wasn't there before. "When people tell me to do something, I often fancy doing the opposite. Now run along before I decide to give Eden a larger rat for dinner."

Silence followed for a moment. Maybe a stare off before a disgruntled noise escaped Dane and the older gentleman stalked off. Stella went to move before she realized that only one set of footsteps disappeared. The prat was still down in the cell corridors with her.

A low whistle rang through the air, sending a chill down her spine. "I'm not in the habit of chasing women." He waited for a moment, but when Stella said nothing, she heard a quiet chuckle. His voice changed, sounding lower. More menacing. The baritone of his voice making her cheeks warm. "Run, princess. Because when I catch you, I'm going to make sure you regret ever traveling to the past in the first place."

He knows.

Chapter 8: Runaway Princess

Like Persephone eating the pomegranate seeds, her fate was sealed. A dead end and there wasn't anywhere to hide. No doors, no stairs, only cells, and she refused to go back into one. If anything, she'd ran in the opposite direction of the exit and now had to deal with the consequences.

This 'consequence' was in the form of a tall prat walking at a casual pace like he had all the time in the world. Standing a few meters down the corridor from her, he looked at her like a Serpent who'd landed his prey. The corner of his lip was raised as if amused she thought for even one moment she'd be able to escape him.

"How did you know? Do you have the Time Turner?" Stella inquired suspiciously, but he wasn't holding it nor wearing it. It was awfully big, but pockets were misleading with the existence of extension charms. He wasn't holding anything in his gloved hands besides a brown paper bag that made her mouth water. "What are you holding?"

His green eye twinkled with delight, but the smile on his face wasn't remotely kind or nice. Eden decided to make an appearance, slithering on the floor behind him. "I have my ways, but I haven't told anyone, and I recommend you don't either. As it stands, time travel is a guaranteed sentence to Azkaban."

She wasn't expecting that. How was she supposed to get to Sebastian Sallow now?

"Why haven't you told the Ministry?"

The prat opened the brown bag, pulling out a Cornish pastry. She could smell the seasoned meat and potatoes, and to her horror; a grumbling noise escaped her stomach. He cocked an eyebrow at the noise, but bit into the pastry. He chewed thoughtfully before answering, "Because I can't question you if you're rotting away in a cell."