Post by Nymphadora Tonks on May 10, 2008 13:22:22 GMT -5
The sky was overcast making for a very grey afternoon in the small village of Hogsmeade. There were some people moving through the streets, mostly older witches and wizards. The Three Broomsticks glowed as it always did, one of the few places that maintained feelings of warmth and safety. There were precious few places that did and any one that wasn't pureblooded knew it. It didn't take long for them to learn what places where "safe houses" and if they didn't it wasn't long before they went "missing".
With a dark purple hood drawn around her pale face, Tonks moved quickly through the side streets. While Hogsmeade wasn't as dangerous as some places, it still wasn't safe. No where really was anymore. That, among other things, drove Tonks crazy. Nowhere safe, nowhere secure, Tonks had spent the last few years of her life constantly looking over her shoulder. More so than some, when you got stuck with crazy murderers for relatives, you kind of had to.
Hearing a noise from behind her, Tonks looked over her shoulder, the hood falling aside. The flash of pink hair seemed to mean Tonks hadn't completely lost hope that something could be done. Her mother hadn't been especially pleased with the pink color Tonks chose to sport constantly. And Moody had tried several times to convince Tonks the color was a poor choice. But Tonks had always done her own thing and the color remained. Her dark eyes scanned the streets. She had heard something and the fact she couldn't find the source of the noise was unnerving.
She was almost home free too. The small flat she called her own was only a few steps away. Just around the corner and Tonks wouldn't have to worry about the sounds and the shadows just out of sight behind her. Tonks heard the noise again, it sounded like something had fallen but the groan that followed after told her it was someone. Biting her lip and looking longingly in the direction of her flat, Tonks looked back to the sound that was continuing to come from the alley just beyond her sight. It sounded so pitiful, the person was clearly in pain and Tonks knew she couldn't ignore it.
As she slowly rounded the corner, Tonks moved some of her robe aside to draw out her wand. She kept it low and close to her leg. Moving cautiously, she saw a man sitting on the ground, his robe drawn up closely around his form and his hand to his head. He was bleeding horribly and was still groaning in pain. Tonks looked quickly around to see if the assailant was still lurking nearby as she walked to the injured man. Bending down onto a knee, Tonks reached a hand out to hold the man's shoulder. He shied away instantly.
"It's alright, I've come to help," Tonks said, tucking her wand into her belt. "Didya see where that bastard went?" Tonks asked, looking to the man, trying to see if she could recognize him. The man's hands were still holding his wound and the blood didn't help make him anymore recognizable. Looking over her shoulder again, Tonks then looked to the man again, trying to manage a small smile. The quick look back to the man though, drained Tonks of any color she might have had. That white streak of hair, not the most common thing.
With a dark purple hood drawn around her pale face, Tonks moved quickly through the side streets. While Hogsmeade wasn't as dangerous as some places, it still wasn't safe. No where really was anymore. That, among other things, drove Tonks crazy. Nowhere safe, nowhere secure, Tonks had spent the last few years of her life constantly looking over her shoulder. More so than some, when you got stuck with crazy murderers for relatives, you kind of had to.
Hearing a noise from behind her, Tonks looked over her shoulder, the hood falling aside. The flash of pink hair seemed to mean Tonks hadn't completely lost hope that something could be done. Her mother hadn't been especially pleased with the pink color Tonks chose to sport constantly. And Moody had tried several times to convince Tonks the color was a poor choice. But Tonks had always done her own thing and the color remained. Her dark eyes scanned the streets. She had heard something and the fact she couldn't find the source of the noise was unnerving.
She was almost home free too. The small flat she called her own was only a few steps away. Just around the corner and Tonks wouldn't have to worry about the sounds and the shadows just out of sight behind her. Tonks heard the noise again, it sounded like something had fallen but the groan that followed after told her it was someone. Biting her lip and looking longingly in the direction of her flat, Tonks looked back to the sound that was continuing to come from the alley just beyond her sight. It sounded so pitiful, the person was clearly in pain and Tonks knew she couldn't ignore it.
As she slowly rounded the corner, Tonks moved some of her robe aside to draw out her wand. She kept it low and close to her leg. Moving cautiously, she saw a man sitting on the ground, his robe drawn up closely around his form and his hand to his head. He was bleeding horribly and was still groaning in pain. Tonks looked quickly around to see if the assailant was still lurking nearby as she walked to the injured man. Bending down onto a knee, Tonks reached a hand out to hold the man's shoulder. He shied away instantly.
"It's alright, I've come to help," Tonks said, tucking her wand into her belt. "Didya see where that bastard went?" Tonks asked, looking to the man, trying to see if she could recognize him. The man's hands were still holding his wound and the blood didn't help make him anymore recognizable. Looking over her shoulder again, Tonks then looked to the man again, trying to manage a small smile. The quick look back to the man though, drained Tonks of any color she might have had. That white streak of hair, not the most common thing.
