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Post by Administrator on Aug 7, 2008 20:36:45 GMT -5
There is a large window, by which several tables are located.
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Post by Emmeline Vance on Nov 28, 2010 0:59:57 GMT -5
From behind rain-streaked glass, Emmeline paced back and forth, staring down at the streets of Diagon Alley. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest and her lips were firmly pressed together in a thin line. Wet, blonde hair hung limply around her shoulders. Due to the rain, she had exchanged her usual set of robes for a waterproof trench coat, which silently dripped excess water onto the burgundy rug as she walked.
Having spent over an hour on patrol for the Order, Emmeline retired to the library to escape the pouring rain. She continued to survey the streets from inside the building, looking through the large windows at the shops. With the unfavorable weather, few people were out and about. On the plus side, Emmeline thought, any suspicious behavior would be easy to spot.
She pushed back the sleeve of her coat and checked the time on her watch. It was 2:45 PM, but the dark cloud covering the sky made it seem much later. Emmeline’s shift for the Order ended in fifteen minutes, when her work for the Ministry began.
In weeks prior, going into work at the Ministry had been perfectly pleasant, but, between the Death Eater attacks and the raids, the Ministry had become more hectic and crowded than ever. The words "perfectly pleasant" and "Ministry work" no longer belonged in the same sentence.
Yesterday, the Atrium was packed with reporters from The Daily Prophet and various magazines. With photographers snapping shots at every opportunity and journalists bellowing questions at any employee they could find, it was nearly impossible for Emmeline to get to her office. To the Auror's great irritation, doing anything productive was practically out of the question.
Emmeline turned on her heel as she reached the edge of the window and started back to the opposite side. She absentmindedly ran a hand across the spines of the books lining the short shelf as she walked. Her eye were glued to the streets, despite them being nearly empty.
A flash of lightning brought her gaze to the sky. Emmeline let out a slow breath as it was followed by a clap of thunder. It was lucky her guard shift was coming to a close; she’d hate to be caught in the storm.
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Post by Clytemnestra Noctis on Dec 31, 2010 14:14:09 GMT -5
The rain came down in thick windblown sheets that splattered across the lenses of Clytemnestra’s glasses, making it nearly impossible to see. She had to fight to stop herself from snatching off the troublesome spectacles and crushing them to the street beneath her boots, but Henrietta Martin wore glasses and couldn’t afford the charmed water-resistant ones. So all Clytemnestra could do was bow her head against the wind and continuously wipe at the speckled lenses with the edge of her sleeve.
A particularly violent gust of wind almost knocked Clytemnestra off of her feet. With a growl of frustration, she ducked into the nearest doorway. She was still a ten minute walk from her – Henrietta’s – lodgings. In this rain, those ten minutes would likely increase to sixty or more. She would simply have to wait until the worst of the storm had passed. It was what Henrietta would have done anyway – pathetic, talentless woman that she was.
It was a struggle to push the door open and closed, but when she finally managed it, Clytemnestra pushed back her sodden hood and shook back the strands of her currently mouse-brown hair. Pulling off her glasses she tried to wipe them dry, but as her robes were soaked through, she only succeeded in smearing them. Cursing under her breath, she looked up, realizing for the first time that she was in the library – and that she wasn’t alone.
Clytemnestra was loath to admit it, but her heart began to beat a little more quickly. Being trapped in a rather small space with an Auror was not her idea of a pleasant afternoon - at least not without a wand in her hand. Still, Henrietta Martin would have smiled and made the best of it. Clytemnestra tried to make her eyes as wide and dull as possible as she continued to futilely wipe her glasses with her wet sleeve. “Good afternoon, ma’am. Quite a storm we’re having, innit?”
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Post by Emmeline Vance on Jan 2, 2011 14:09:59 GMT -5
Emmeline turned abruptly at the sound of the voice. Hearing someone speak after a clap of thunder could set anyone on edge, particularly when that someone only made their presence known at that moment.
Spotting the mousey-haired, bespectacled woman, Emmeline smiled slightly. “I assume you’re looking for shelter from the storm as opposed to books,” she said. “That would make two of us.” The blonde didn’t even blink as the lie flowed from her lips. She glanced at the window and said, “I keep hoping it will lighten up so I can get some errands done.” A flash of lightening followed her statement and Emmeline sighed, adding, “But it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen.”
The irony would not have been lost on Emmeline, had she known with whom she was speaking. It was a shame, too, that it was unlikely she’d ever know. She was in the presence of the woman who caused an Imperio’d man to drink bleach, who almost drowned a woman in Euphoria Elixir, who was responsible for single-handedly demolishing Flourish and Blotts – and Emmeline was conversing with her about the weather? The Auror would have kicked herself if she’d recognized the woman.
As it was, she didn’t recognize the woman and she was, in fact, conversing with a Death Eater about the weather. Emmeline would have been appalled with herself if she knew. But she didn’t know, so she continued to make pleasant small talk with a stranger about the raging storm outside. Her guard shift for the Order was going swimmingly.
Her gaze shifted from the woman to the window. Not wanting to seem suspicious, but not wanting to seem rude either, Emmeline nodded toward the window and said, “It gives a good view of the storm, though I’d rather it gave a good view of sunny skies.” She smiled slightly. “Where are you headed in the rain?” She figured a little small talk wouldn’t inhibit her from keeping an eye on the streets.
Emmeline didn’t bother to offer her name to the stranger. She rarely did. It was less because she tried to keep her identity known to few and more because she didn’t feel a particular need to introduce herself to someone she’d presumably only encounter once. Emmeline knew it often came off as cold, but she felt that she was pleasant enough to talk to that she could afford to appear rather icy every so often.
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Post by Clytemnestra Noctis on Jan 4, 2011 14:35:20 GMT -5
“I assume you’re looking for shelter from the storm as opposed to books,” she said. “That would make two of us.” The blonde didn’t even blink as the lie flowed from her lips. She glanced at the window and said, “I keep hoping it will lighten up so I can get some errands done.” A flash of lightening followed her statement and Emmeline sighed, adding, “But it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen.”
“Oh, yes, yes,” Clytemnestra twittered in Henrietta’s soft tremulous voice. “I was just on my way home from work when it started. I would have waited, but it didn’t look so bad when I left.” She clasped her clammy hands in front of her and didn’t have to fake the shiver that coursed through her. She wished she could dry her robes, but Henrietta was the type of fool to stand there dripping rather than remember what her wand was for. So Clytemnestra was forced to endure the damp clinging robes as she stood watching the Auror from across the room.
Emmeline Vance, that was her name. It had taken Clytemnestra a moment to remember her face – the years Clytemnestra had spent in Azkaban had not been kind to her memory – but she knew her now. Not only was she a Ministry whore and one of Dumbledore’s blood traitors, but she had been the one to throw Clytemnestra into a dank, dark Azkaban cell for nearly ten years. Clytemnestra had to squeeze her hands together tightly to keep from reaching for her wand. Her fingers throbbed, but she reminded herself that it was better than letting the Ministry whore send her back to Azkaban. Vance and everyone like her would get what they deserved when the Dark Lord returned to power.
Forcing one of Henrietta’s weak-lipped smiles, Clytemnestra said, “I should have brought an umbrella, but I always forget. I’d leave my own head if it wasn’t screwed on. What about you, ma’am? Where were you off to in this sort of weather?” As the idiotic prattle dribbled from her lips, Clytemnestra watched Vance’s face closely. It was cold and hard just as Clytemnestra remembered it. What she wouldn’t give to put a curse straight between those staring eyes, but she restrained herself. There will be time, she thought as Henrietta continued to blather on about her day of work and her love of sunshine. Perhaps the Dark Lord would be kind enough to grant Clytemnestra the chance to deal with Vance herself. It would be hard for the Auror to stare down anyone after she’d been compelled to jab needles through those icy eyes with her own hands.
Pulling herself back into the moment, Clytemnestra twisted a wet lock of hair around one finger. “Can’t say I like walking the streets much alone these days, anyway. I’ve been hearing all kinds of awful things ever since – well, I’m sure you’ve seen the papers.” She gazed at Vance, making sure to blink often like a particularly stupid house elf. If Clytemnestra couldn’t give the Auror a proper fight then perhaps she could wheedle a little information out of her. The trouble with lying low was that it made it very difficult to discover new information before The Daily Prophet reported on it – and if The Daily Prophet had the story, it was quite likely that the story wasn’t worth knowing.
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Post by Emmeline Vance on Jan 4, 2011 18:02:20 GMT -5
[ Jeeze, woman! Hahah]“What about you, ma’am? Where were you off to in this sort of weather?”Her focus was still on the large window as she replied, “The cauldron shop.” Emmeline’s eyes lingered on the window for a moment longer before she turned to the bespectacled woman. “My brother’s birthday is coming up. He’s quite talented with potions, but the cauldron he uses is looking a bit worse for wear. I thought a new one would do him well.” Emmeline really could have been a Slytherin back in her school days; she almost was, a fact that very few knew about the witch. She was certainly ambitious and determined and there was no denying a particular shrewdness about her. She wouldn’t have made it to where she was without the motivation that she had and lies flowed out of her mouth like a stream. Emmeline didn’t even have a brother, but she’d lied about the faux sibling so many times that it was almost as if he was real. His name was Patrick, when people asked, and his interests included potion making, writing non-fiction about magical creatures, and collecting figures of dragons, which he’d been doing since childhood. It was a protection lie, as Emmeline called it. She never gave out information about her real family, worried her position in the Order might put them in danger. So she created Patrick Vance, who lived somewhere in Norway, working as a potion maker and part-time Norwegian author. If someone was determined enough to attack her family, they’d be disappointed to find that Patrick Vance was nowhere to be found. “Can’t say I like walking the streets much alone these days, anyway. I’ve been hearing all kinds of awful things ever since – well, I’m sure you’ve seen the papers.”The Auror nodded grimly. “Yes,” she said. “Those attacks were a great shame.” The entire Order had cursed themselves for not having been present to stop at least some of them. “I’m sure you’ll be alright, though,” Emmeline said, trying to reassure the woman. “As long as you’ve got your wand on you.” In retrospect, it was an inconsiderate thing to say. Not everyone was as skilled with a wand as an Auror. In fact, most people weren’t. And even some of the most talented wizards still lost their grip upon coming face-to-face with a Death Eater. “I haven’t seen any recent attacks in the paper,” Emmeline said lightly. “A good portion of the Prophet’s recent focus has been on the Resistance movement that’s forming. I’m sure you’ve read about that.” She glanced toward the window once more. She smiled slightly, “I suppose there technically have been recent attacks then. While the Death Eaters lay low, the Ministry and the Resistance are continuing to rough each other up.”
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