This Time, Last Time (A Harry Potter Universe Fanfiction)

7.

Then you tell me that you miss me,

And I'm like 'Oh God, I miss you too.'

-"Miss You," Gabrielle Aplin

---

June 2018

James really thought he'd outdone himself, hiding out up here above the awning to the back entrance. There was a perfectly sturdy, stone protrusion, like a tiny balcony complete with a marble-pillared fence, except there was no door or window leading out to it so he could be sure no one would spot him from inside.

Better yet, he'd flown down and hidden out up here three days in a row without being spotted, both when Anniston entered the building and left in the evening. Course, he still couldn't see anything that was happening, but listening was something and he hadn't put a lot of trust in his previous hiding place, just around the corner. It was too obvious.

Grapfort and Riglock continued to man the place day in and day out. James was almost glad that polyjuice potion didn't even have them fooled, because he couldn't really stomach the thought of spending two knuts a day on crappy potions he'd never use.

He had vanished the first little vial.

James crouched in the little space, knees jammed against the pillars, with his broom balanced precariously against the exterior of the bank. He held it in place, trying to keep it still so it would not scrape against the stone and make noise while he waited.

James heard the crack of apparation at 8:07 precisely. Damn, he was predictable. Down to the minute every day. Then the same conversation as always. "Morning Grapfort. Riglock."

"Mr. Anniston," sneered Grapfort. (James had learned whose voice was whose by now).

"Friday at last, eh?" said Anniston. James imagined him clapping one of them on the shoulder or ringing their knotted little hands in a poorly disguised attempt to be jovial.

"Ah," said Riglock in his eerily high, disconnected voice. "The end of the work week for some. The rest of us toil away protecting wizard gold and possessions without rest."

"Yes, well," said Anniston, brushing off the comment. "We appreciate it anyway. You know that Riggy."

James could picture the look the goblin must have been giving him. He thought it very unlikely either Grapfort or Riglock felt kindly towards nicknames.

Then James made the mistake of trying to shift out of his uncomfortable position. He let go of the broom, slowly, so it would stay in place while he used both hands to lift himself up and shift back an inch to give his legs an extra inch to stretch out in. Unfortunately, the broom did not stay put, as he'd planned. It slid down the wall with a loud scrape until it was leaning against a steep diagonal in the intricate stone carvings a foot or two above his head. Then it slipped down and the handle found the gap between the fence posts. It fell through.

James, crunched up as he was, couldn't exactly lunge for it at the speed he might normally have. He caught it just before the twiggy tail of the broom disappeared through the space, but not before Anniston saw.

"What was-" James heard him say below his place. He held onto the end of the broom, but didn't dare pull it up. Maybe they'd think it was a practical joke?

But that was being far too hopeful.

"Intruder," hissed Grapfort.

One of them tugged on the end of the broom. Had James been smart, he would have let go, but he panicked and gripped it tighter.