(Untitled)

Nov 28, 2005 20:29

It's time. I promised Fleur.

As he rises to answer the knock at the door, Bill swallows hard: he doesn't like admitting he needs help. Never has, most likely never will, but there are things he simply doesn't know and has to find out ( Read more... )

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apwb_d November 28 2005, 20:31:53 UTC
"Tea would be most welcome."

Albus sits down in the offered chair.

"I'm glad you asked me to come. I wished to, very much, but I wanted to wait till you were feeling better."

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bill_weasley November 28 2005, 20:38:43 UTC
"So you know what happened. Tell me, Professor, how many other people know? It was my intention to keep it all as quiet as possible." Bill shakes his head slowly, but remembers the tea-things and Summons them; they land on the table between them.

"I've not even checked in with the goblins. For all I know, I no longer have a job, although Fleur seems to think it's all fine. And in all fairness, she did work for them, and I suppose the past year hasn't painted me as too reliable an employee for them by any stretch of the imagination."

Stop babbling, Bill.

He's nervous.

"What do you know about what happened to me? I'm still missing some of the pieces, you see." Bill taps his wand to the teapot; it pours out two cups of tea for them. He adds three cubes of sugar and a healthy dollop of cream to his. Apparently, some things never change.

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apwb_d November 28 2005, 21:00:11 UTC
He looks to the younger man, taking in his appearance and manner. He knows a little more than Bill does, perhaps. He's spoken with the goblins on behalf of Arthur and Molly.

"I would guess, by your scars, that you were attacked by a werewolf. The fact that you also contacted Remus leads me to believe this to be the case. I spoke with the goblins, as well - your Fleur is right. Your job is being held indefinitely."

He takes the tea and sips.

"What kinds of pieces do you think are missing? I daresay you've had time to develop a few thoughts on the matter."

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bill_weasley November 28 2005, 21:12:59 UTC
Bill opens his mouth to speak but changes his mind, instead simply considering Albus's words. A werewolf was mentioned the night Fleur dragged him in here from Saint Paul's, too: he remembers that much. Almost self-consciously he rubs the remnants of scars. The worst is on his hand, where he raised it to try to protect himself ( ... )

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