"Trust me, you shouldn't want anyone like me on your back."
"Maybe I don't want anyone like you on my back," His eyes darkened as he stepped closer, confining me tighter into barely any space as my back pressed against the wall.
"Maybe I want you. U...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
"HARRY POTTER, A DIADEM AND A LOCKET," LASZLO Kelemen mused as he flipped a coin in between his knuckles, the trait so fast that it seemed to Tatuli Giorgadze—who was watching him do it with keen interest—that the silver copper coin was a mere blur with the way that it formed into a fast spinning ball upon the play of Kelemen's knuckles.
"Do you ever just stop and wonder what we are doing, Tatuli?" The coin disappeared instantly in as he enveloped it into his palm and leaned forwards at the edge of the dark green sofa, his arms on his knees as he looked at her, gratified to trap a willing witch into his assorted encasement of reflective wallowing.
"We're chasing after a boy, a woman's diadem and a man's locket," The blonde haired Kelemen scoffed. "You'd think we resigned as The Red Shrikes to become brokers at a pawn shop, with a knack for pedophilia."
"Don't be disgusting," Tatuli scrunched up her face, brought out of her stupor. "We're chasing horcruxes. All those three things are horcruxes, Laszlo, let us try and judge past physical appearances for once in our life, shall we?"
"Easy for you to say," Laszlo reclined back onto the sofa.
The English night was damp outside as they conversed—or rather retorted—with each other. England had given the Shrikes a wet welcome, with streets glistening with the fruits of heavy rain, houses bent and subdued under the wrath of the weather and air and mostly under the wrath of Voldemort's regime itself.
Number 12 Grimmauld Place was a chaotic, uncapacious space for Tatuli's liking. Having never been before, neither to this compact living quarter and neither in London before, she felt inclined to scrutinize every nook and cranny of this unsavory homely space left abandoned long before it could have been truly considered a home.
Outside the rain continued to pelt against the roads and the roof and walls of this place, while not a single car or pedestrian was heard traipsing outside. London truly had resorted to folding in on itself, while other places where Voldemort's regime prospered, resorted to bearing that flag with pride, London seemed to merely only hold it as though perhaps the weight of the thing was crushing the entire city down each second.
