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Post by Deleted on Jul 20, 2014 23:21:14 GMT
Father had told Agatha not to wander from the Leaky Cauldron while he went to plead mother's case to the Ministry. He even advised against leaving the room they were staying in. Agatha had never been capable of sitting and waiting for very long. It wasn't long before she decided father's command was really more of a request. She was changed into a more formal, black dress. It was nothing fancy except for an excess of trimming that was actually too hard to notice in the dark. She also draped herself in a small cloak that was really more of an overly-thick shawl. She decided not to change her shoes since it was unlikely anyone would see their casualness in the night anyway.
She drew the cloak over her head as she came to up towards a dusty shop window that she assumed was no longer in use. Strangely, she noticed a light streaming rays through floating dust from a door at the back of the shop. It took her a full moment to realize she'd never seen this store in her life. When she did, her eyes shot up towards the sign above the display window. Her eyes widened in shock mingled with a slight terror at the realization that she had wandered into Knockturn Alley. Almost instantly, she turned her head around to see if there was a way back towards Diagon Alley. Her hood fell off in her failed attempts to find an escape from this notoriously dark place. She peered back in through the dusty shop window. When she noticed signs of life in the back, she moved closer to the window and made to rap on it with her knuckles even as she moved closer to the door. It probably wasn't a smart choice, but she meant to ask the people in the building for directions back to Diagon Alley.
There was a loud bang and flash of light behind Agatha and she must have leapt a good foot in her fright. She turned around but the street was deserted. With a nervous chuckle, Agatha reminded herself that dark wizards and witches weren't restricted to places like Knockturn Alley anymore and that she was unlikely to meet anyone who would be intentionally malicious - or at least as likely anywhere else. Her father's command rang through her head and she silently cursed herself for being disobedient. She turned back to the shop and made her way to the door, and thats when she heard what she thought was a crude laughter full of malice and chaos.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 22, 2014 14:34:43 GMT
He had not intended for his cackle to sound malicious; though with how many times he'd had to fake it as such it was not difficult to imagine he was not able to sound any different.
Perhaps he should not have even stopped to bother with the girl. He was not on any business, currently and he was only passing through Knockturn Alley because of a witch with a killer body and even better hangover potions happened to live there. Having thoroughly enjoyed all the...goods she had to offer, he had figured he might as well check out her sister-who came highly recommended and lived in Diagon Alley. Go figure. At anyrate, anything was better than too much free time on his hands. Well, at least when he was off-duty.
The tiny figure in black robes was not an uncommon occurrence here, so he would not have paid much attention to it. If, upon hearing one of the local hobos try hexing a stray cat and hitting a garbage bin, she had not leapt up like a...well, a thing that does that. So, he'd laughed, because everyone knew this particular hobo an his constant war with cats - everyone that frequented this neighbourhood, anyway. Out of habit, more than anything else, he took a better look at this person.
Then he saw it was a girl about Piper's age (it actually took him a few seconds to remember whether his daughter was fifteen or sixteen - huh, lousy father of the year award!) and that she looked utterly bewildered and lost. Definitely not like someone who frequented Knockturn Alley. In fact, she looked as if she did not even want to be here, at all.
Helping lost girls was not his usual passtime. Actually, it could be said that it was and he was observant enough to notice she was pretty---Damn it, Thorfinn. Piper's age, remember? Merlin. She might have just looked younger. But she looked as if she'd probably scream if he asked her, ah, anything at all. And he got enough screaming at work.
That door she was about to knock on though...it used to be a shop, sure. Nowadays, though, he knew it as a place where some rather unsavory characters would meet and enjoy their revels - and they would not have cared about her age.
So, before thinking, he called out to her, "I wouldn't, if I were you." Then he assumed she might freak out at the sight of him and rush in - and then it would be slightly more difficult to help her, "The guys in there make even me seem nice."
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Post by Deleted on Jul 23, 2014 2:23:30 GMT
Agatha wished she could go back to idly pondering her life, with and without her mother. She felt quite guilty that the sure death of a woman as great and skilled as her mother could be eclipsed by her own danger.
The night must have grown darker within the confines of Knockturn Alley, she didn't connect that to the lights of Diagon Alley at all. It must be the dark place being dark. The laughter may not have been as malicious as it seemed to her.
Agatha whipped around on her feet. She felt embarassed but was too startled not to take a look. Her eyes adjusted now, she could now see an outline of the feline-hating wizard. At first, she thought it was he who'd cackled at such and oppurtune moment. Agatha's back was pressing against the door lightly. She was fixing the tramp with what she hoped was a stern gaze but was more likely reeked horribly of fear.
She cleared her throat softly and pulled the cloak back over her head. She suddenly felt silly in such dress with plain shoes though she couldn't tell why. The sound of Mr. Rowle's voice caught Agatha unawares. Though she leapt considerably less at this latest fright. She turned her head towards the man she hadn't yet noticed. She caught a glimpse of his face in the moonlight and was reminded of a sad moment. She didn't know where this new emotion was surfacing from but the memory was deep enough to cause her eyes to water instantly.
Agatha tried to draw herself up to look taller. Though at a mere five feet nothing, she was hopeless at intimidating anyone that might stalk the streets of Knockturn Alley by choice.
She was not quite so distraught that she would miss what he said. She was so relieved by his words that she nearly sighed aloud. However, the thought that this man was luring her came to mind almost as instantly as relief did. "Right." Agatha took a short breath. "I'm pureblood. I've nothing to worry about." She lied in a shaky voice.
Agatha turned her head and looked in through the window with the lonely stream of light emanating from a back room. She shut her eye closest to Rowle, expecting to feel a blade against her throat while she was looking away from him. The tears welling in that eye were lodged loose from the closure and dripped down over cheek quickly. She cursed herself for such weakness and wondered where she could possibly have seen this man before. As she turned back towards him, she could tell that he was definately familiar. Rather hopefully, she reasoned that he must be one of her father's friends. Her father had been a Slytherin while attending Hogwarts and had some rather dark friends that mother was less than favourable towards. Though they were often younger than this man and less handsome. "Might I- May I ask for your name, sir?"
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Post by Deleted on Jul 23, 2014 8:41:08 GMT
Thorfinn could have smelled a lie most of the time, even when coming from far more experienced and skilled liars than this girl apparently was. She had barely kept her voice from quivering and she looked as if she was about to cry any moment; "Y'know, when you're a terrible liar..." Ah, but that had sounded menacing, now. Much as he enjoyed a good laugh, his aim was not to scare her out of her wits and have to take her to St. Mungo's later on. And since when do snatchers do that? Huh.
"It's always better to keep your mouth shut." Damn, he was acting too much in-character for the big, bad wolf type, eh? Wolf. Nice wording. He wondered what Greyback would have done if he had been the one to come across this girl...and decided it was best not to think of that.At any rate, the girl had turned back to the door and he decided that taunting her may not have been the best course of action. But he hardly knew how to do anything else, since his experience with girls he was not trying to sleep with was rather limited. In fact, hte majority of his interaction with those was when he was taking them in or questioning them. Or worse.
"I'm off duty, though, so no need to go freaking out on me." He folded his arms and tried the least menacing smirk he could have mustered, "But if you enter that door...well, let's just say lots of my...comrades don't leave their work at work." A smirk was still a smirk and not a smile. But he guessed he did not remember how to smile any longer.
The girl could have no longer contained her fear - he notice tears beginning to stream down he cheeks. Aw, heck. Thorfinn had no idea what to do with a crying girl - well, one he couldn't comfort with---well, yeah. He did not know what to do with a crying girl this young. Yeah, that sounded better. His sense of humor seemed to be scaring her, more than anything and he wondered whether or not she'd faint if he made a step towards her. Nah, better keep a safe distance.
He also felt a twinge of sympathy for this girl - if she was a half-blood or a mudblood not affiliated enough with the crrent regime, she was right to be afraid. And incredibly stupid to be here, in the first place. Thorfinn briefly imagined what would have happened right now if he had, indeed, been sent to hunt her down. And if his colleagues were also present and if he had to make her scream. Damn. She probably has no idea how much sense her fear makes. Or what she could have gotten herself into. His work, grim as it was(understatement of the year), at least made sure no one would touch his daughter in a situation as this one. Unless I disappointed our esteemed leaders. So, if he'd been on duty, he'd have performed all the gruesome hexes on this poor little thing. to keep himself and Piper(who barely talked to him, as it was) safe.
The thought made him feel sick so he pushed it away, breaking his bref reverie and clearing his throat, "Look, if I wanted to hurt you, you'd already be hurt, so why don't you just tell me where you want to be and I'll see about getting you there, 'kay?" Though why he was offering to be her knight in hte shining armor while on another day he could have been her executioner was beyond him. Oh, well. Best not to give it too much thought.
He had to admire her bravery when she turned to ask for his name, though - she was so obviously terrified, but had managed to face him rather than run from him. Again, stupid, though. But if things were different, she would not have had much to lose anyway. Hey, at least I didn't scare her enough for her to join the feast beyond that door. Though, once she heard his name, if she had heard of him and was a mudblood or such, she might just do that, yet. Well, so what? It's not like I can say I'm Harry Potter or something. And I can always stop her before she even reaches for the handle if I want to.
So he cast another grin upon her, with a mocking bow of his head; "Thorfinn Rowle, at your service." He regarded her briefly, adding; "I don't need to hear yours, though, if you don't feel like giving it away." There, hadn't that sounded all nice and friendly? He only hoped no one else had heard him. Which reminde him; "And don't go telling anyone I go about helping little girls in trouble. It's not something I'm supposed to do - well, before asking for proof of their heritage, anyway."He winked at her, only belatedly remembering that might scare her again. Oh, well. Can't help being me.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 25, 2014 11:59:37 GMT
Agatha sagged against the door at Thorfinn's utterance of the word 'liar'. She felt quite silly, most pure blood would know at least a bit about each other. Given how closely related and few there were. Regardless, being a half-blood wasn't illegal yet. Though she'd often wonder when it might occur. Agatha paid very little attention to whispers of hopes and Potters and phoenixes.
She decided against giving any more proof that she'd lied anyhow. There was little point carrying on about that subject at all.
He seemed to be trying to soothe her fears. Though it was obvious that he had very limited knowledge on how to accomplish the task. Agatha was aware that if he'd wanted to kill her, she could be dead already. Though the stories of Death Eaters like the Lestranges spread like wildfire, sadists who preferred to play with their prey before going for the kill. Regardless, she was quite sure by now that he was earnest about not meaning harm. She still carried her own wand in her pocket after all.
His name was Rowle, Agatha thought she'd heard the name before. Perhaps he was a particular devilish Death Eater or there was a student with the same name. She couldn't remember where but she found it odd how familiar this person she thought she'd never seen before seemed.
Agatha wiped what little moisture remained from her cheek. She also shut her other eye and wiped it before it could leak out over her fact like the other. She kept her open eye on Thorfinn as she did this.
She gleaned from his statement that he was at least a snatcher, if not a Death Eater. Despite his strangely friendly nature, Agatha glared coldly at him. The pain of her mother's snatching still pressed hotly upon her heart. It was the day she'd lost hope and the ability to cast a Patronus charm. Her mother, so tall and strong. Agatha remembered begging her mother to seek out the phoenix group, even offered to quit school and join her. But Gwen Gewissae was too stupid. Foolish was pride. Very foolish.
"I am Agatha Gewissae. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rowle." Though she spoke softly and more calmly, Agatha's face held an expression between anger and fear.
She wondered now if she hadn't wandered down Knockturn Alley with some purpose. Perhaps the part of her that housed her mother's famous Gryffindor pride was out to seek vengence on the very night that the woman it was better suited for was to be sentenced to death.
The idea helped to steady her nerves, since Rowle seemed to consider him beneath her worries Agatha played with the possibility of taking advantage of his underestimation.
She was awakened from her fantasy suddenly by a noise from inside the door like a heavy door closing. There was a loud howling chortle from within. Then the same voice suddenly cried out in pain. The shriek curdled Agatha's blood and she leapt away from the door and turned toward it. More startled and curious than scared, Agatha peered through the window but could still only see the light streaming out from a back room. "What was that?" Agatha looked up at Thorfinn, now beside him. This close, she half expected him to reach out and try to seize her but she didn't think he would try to hurt her unless those people from inside came out.
When the shrieks of pain wouldn't stop, Agatha put her head in her hands. "Oh, God!" She didn't even want to imagine what horrors were taking place within but she couldn't help but wonder. Why was that man laughing at first? What was making him scream so horrifically? Maybe something heavy had fallen onto him and he needed help?
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Post by Deleted on Jul 25, 2014 14:01:35 GMT
Thank Merlin she was smart enough to jump away from that door. He had almost reached out to pull her away when the screams were heard, but she was next to him in an instant. Of course he did not bother reaching for a wand - whoever was inside certainly was not about to attack him. They'd sooner invite him to join them. Huh. The screams reminded him of too many things he had been aiming to forget today - well, or give trying to forget them his best shot. But he knew how to withstand anything with a straight face, especially screams. This girl did not - he guessed she had not seen too much pain in her life. She's lucky if it stays that way. Though in this world today, there was little chance of that.
He allowed himself a wince at her question as he replied; "You really don't want to know what that is, Agatha." And I really don't want to explain it to you, so, change of subject!; "And don't call me Mr. Rowle. Mr. Rowle was my father - and he was an idiot, by what I've heard." Gewissae, Gewissae...where in the blazes had he heard that name before? Hm. It was going to come to him eventually and if it did not, all the better. Maybe it was an unpleasant memory and maybe he had taken a relative of hers to---
Gwen Gewissae.
He would never have remembered that case if the girl had not given her last name. And if he hadn't seen her as panicked - because she had been in a similar, if worse, state when they had come to take her pregnant mother away. Thorfinn did not really memorize such peaceful arrests; not a single Cruciatus curse, not a single slicing hex. The girl had worked herself up to a fit, though, so he'd burned her a bit with a very simple jinx that hadn't even left any scars. He had not even remembered her face. If all my work was like that, I'd spend much less on firewhiskey.
She did not seem to have recognized him, though. He had hexed her from the back and she had been in a horrid state, so it was not a wonder. Good. He hoped she wouldn't recall hearing his name somewhere. 'Nice one, Rowle', one of his colleagues had commented when he had hit the girl with that hex. Why did he remember that now? No idea. But he hoped she wouldn't, or she might run from him and end up Merlin knows where. Which would just make my day, adding another spot to my record of misdeeds.
"Whoever's in there can't be helped." His tone was as if he was discussing Quidditch rather than someone being tortured to death, "Just be happy I came along and prevented you from ending up the same way, eh?" She probably was not going to like that joke, either. But it was the truth and she did need to learn her lesson(don't go knocking on random doors in Knockturn Alley, ever). They'd wasted enough time here, though "Let's get going, now. I'm sure we both have better things to do than...well, this." He pointed vaguely at the door.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 27, 2014 9:22:20 GMT
Agatha shook her head in her hands slowly. The screeching coming from the back of the shop was growing sparse by now. Her mind was aglow with scenes of torture implements in bloody use. Agatha shook, lowering her hands and looking in at the dim light in the back of the shop. Thorfinn had just now suggested they leave, and Agatha agreed with that decision. The fear or Thorfinn Rowle still hung over her. Agatha was sure that she could feel hands against her arms and waist, but there was nothing grasping her whenever she looked down.
Thorfinn's jokes unsettled Agatha, and she side-stepped away from him as she glared up at him apprehensively. She figured it was probably best to act the way he did in such a situation as this especially since they were probably still within earshot of the tramp in the shadows among other possible eavesdroppers. So she refrained from voicing a remonstration.
Agatha was very eager to start moving away from this place but was even more eager to move in the direction of Diagon Alley. She glanced furtively around. Searching for the slightest hint that might reveal her escape from this plight. If she could determine where Diagon Alley was, she might have even bolted away from Thorfinn without so much as a farewell. But alas, she could determine no sign of Diagon Alley.
Reluctantly, Agatha turned to Thorfinn. Her last hope lay in him. She didn't like placing her continued existence in the hands of such a man. But there was little choice for her at this point. Perhaps this was a grim foretelling of her years to come? Would she forever be seeking the favor of pureblood men to keep her safe and secure? She reasoned that it was foolish to expect to be truly independent ever. But pureblood wizards were not exactly a group she looked to as incredibly worthwhile. Her own father was pureblood but he was stepped so heavily in muggle culture he may as well be muggleborn.
At first, Agatha wondered why Thorfinn would suggest that she wanted to help the screaming man. She couldn't think effectively at the moment even though the screams had stopped. A quick glance through the shop's window revealed that shadows were moving about in the back room. Occasionally most of the light would be drown out by a great mass. "Yes. Let's go." Agatha actually moved closer to Thorfinn, surprising even herself. She crept up next to him closely and pulled his arm to urge him to move. Hoping that if anyone came out of that door, they'd pass her off as Thorfinn's kin or- "Guh." Agatha groaned, choosing to force her mind off that last thought. Her mind playing tricks of feeling hands pressing upon her skin that weren't there redoubled. Agatha began to feel as if she was going to be sick.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 27, 2014 15:30:14 GMT
Thorfinn attributed all the changes on Agatha's face as simple fear of the situation, as it was. She moved even closer to him and grasped his arm, causing him to raise an eyebrow. Evidently, she had finally concluded that he was not the greater threat here and that she would follow him out of here. Thank Merlin for that, then. He was growing tired of this place and of tiptoeing around Agatha's fears, logical as they might have been. She was clearly still nervous around him, but if he had anything to do with it, she was not going to be around him much longer. As long as it took him to walk her wherever her destination may have been--unless she would be willing to trust him with something else; "I can apparate us, you know." The perks of being a snatcher - he could have done so in spite of any seals.
But he felt no desire for another discussion in which she tried to avoid apparition if she was afraid of it - not a discussion long in words as it would have been long in her stutters, silences or an attempt to run away. So, he started walking towards Diagon Alley - he guessed that she could have made her way anywhere from there, on her own. He made no effort to touch the hand she'd placed on his arm, not wanting her to leap up into the air again; "We're headed for Diagon Alley, now - I happen to have...ah, business there." Again, not the best joke to use on a girl who seemed this young. She'd probably think he was supposed to capture some mudbloods there and she'd think that was why he had grinned as contently. Not that all kids were that innocent - they never had been and he had probably been sleeping around already at her age. But she'd just struck him as if she, well, wasn't. Who knows. It's always the quiet ones, eh? But it's beside the point, anyway. Let her think he was off to ruin someone's life again.
The walk would not be a long one and if she decided she wanted to be apparated someplace else, that might last even shorter. So, he might redeem his black soul a tad(huh, that was a good joke) by helping this girl and then be off to enjoy the rest of his day off. Didn't sound as bad, now, did it?
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Post by Deleted on Jul 29, 2014 9:12:08 GMT
Thorfinn's suggestion of apparition was met with a grimace from Agatha. However a dark part of her stirred and made her want to find out what would happen if he was to apparate her. Agatha fought the darkness however and shook her head in response. "I've never been entirely comfortable apparating. A-Although I-" She broke off when he announced that they were headed for Diagon Alley.
"O-okay." She said. Agatha felt as if her tone was too submissive and timid. So she cleared her throat loudly. "Let's go." She affirmed, hoping to seem more assertive but not outright manipulative or antagonistic.
Now on her way away from the screaming shop, Agatha began to muse about some of the things Thorfinn had said that she hadn't paid much attention to during the screaming. She remembered he had denied an unvoiced request to help the screaming individual. As they walked, Agatha spoke up suddenly. "Do I come across as the type of person that would help people?" Agatha choked up as she spoke. "I don't think I am. I couldn't even help my mother and my brother or sister. My father stood by silently as well. I'm short like my father. I don't think I'd be much of a heroine." Agatha realized she was speaking nonsensically and sighed coldly. "I must sound insipid." She often kept her silence when she thought like this but could slip up and drone about such flaky stuff sometimes.
"How far is it to Diagon Alley?" Agatha asked. She looked up at Thorfinn. "If you don't mind my asking." She added, not wanting to seem annoying. There was still some aversion towards him but that depleted as they walked together. As she stared at him, the feeling that she'd seen his face before returned and was stronger than before. It was followed by a surge of animosity towards Thorfinn that Agatha couldn't explain. She caught herself glaring at Thorfinn without realizing that she was doing so at first.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 29, 2014 10:33:43 GMT
Thorfinn's mind was already on that lovely witch in Diagon Alley he was about to ravish as soon as he finished escorting this girl there - evidently, she wanted to go there and he silently applauded his decision to start moving before discussing anything with her. Saved myself some time. She was beginning to babble, now and he was only half paying attention to what she was saying, since he considered his task(if that was what he'd call this random good deed unlike him) to be done since she did not seem to have remembered him from her mother's arrest and was being escorted to relative safety instead of being toyed with by the loons back at that shop.
Still, he did hear enough to answer her question - a funny question to be asking. In fact, he was rather surprised she had not kept her mouth shut for the duration of the walk. Probably her nerves getting the best of her. Some people were talkative when on edge. So, cackling lightly, he looked at her sideways and shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know. I haven't put much thought into it, really." She must have latched onto his words when he'd said that before, he recalled now, "Just wanted to make sure the lesson sinks in - entering dark buildings with people inside screaming, laughing -or, even worse, coming out to greet you - is always a lousy idea."
Maybe, now that he gave it some consideration, he had had her pegged as the kind of person to help people screaming - because she had tried helping her mother despite the entire group of snatchers surrounding her on that day. As if on cue, she mentioned that very event. Not really thinking - well, not thinking, at all - Thorfinn shot her an annoyed glance - rather caught up in how annoyed he had been when she had run after Gwen despite all odds, very nearly spoiling his hopes of a bloodless arrest, "Well, you're alive, aren't you? My take on life is that beats being a damned hero. And with half a dozen snatchers surrounding your mum, I'd say your attempt at heroism was a bloody fool's errand, as it--"
Ah, hell.
At least Diagon Alley was just around the corner, now. If she ran, he hoped she'd at least go in that direction. Why he had let his tongue slip was beyond him. He guessed he'd let his guard down some. And he really did find it annoying when people who were not necessarily victims during snatchings made themselves into victims by trying to help the ones taken away. Sometimes, that even made him get a twinge of satisfaction when hexing them. Unless he had to make examples out of them.
At any rate, who cared? So she'd know he'd arrested her mother; what did it matter to him? Sighing, he pointed at he corner in the direction of their destination, "Anyway, Diagon's just round that corner." There. Run now, girl, and leave me to my business.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 12, 2014 6:02:51 GMT
Agatha shook her head and let Thorfinn loose. She strode toward Diagon Alley for a few steps in the direction that he pointed. She stopped after only two steps however and turned around toward Thorfinn. A tinge of disappointment flared when Agatha heard him admit that he hadn't actually seen her as a possible fighter for good. She had of course, considered that possibility already. But it still kind of hurt that Thorfinn didn't see her as very strong.
Underestimation is a greater weakness than being physically or mentally weaker than your opponent. Manipulate your enemy's strength and hauteur. Her father's voice interrupted her thoughts. Agatha stared at Thorfinn for a long moment. She supposed he was technically her enemy, even if he was helping her out of trouble at the moment. She hadn't noticed his slip of the tongue just yet. She was too worried about coming off as a foolish girl(which she feared was not only too late but likely true by now) and confused about her familiarity and enmity towards Thorfinn. Not to mention the elation of nearly being away from Knockturn Alley and the blood-curdling screams.
Agatha wasn't sure what to say at this farewell. She got the feeling it wouldn't really be a bad thing if she just left Thorfinn behind and never thought or said anything to him ever again. It wasn't exactly manners or grace that spurned her to voice a farewell. She hated him and wanted to insult him but was stayed by the fact that she didn't know why she should want to mock him. He had just helped her, perhaps he hadn't exactly saved her life but you could argue that he had. And yet, she felt like hurting him emotionally.
Back to relative safety and now more alert however, Agatha had by now returned to her normal aptitude for self-control and merely swayed from side to side slowly as she waved and said. "Au revoir, mon poupée."
The farewell was a common phrase that Agatha's mother spoke to her. Agatha remembered now that her mother had used the same phrase before the Snatchers had taken her away. It wasn't the phrase itself that reminded Agatha of that night, her mother said that so much that there was a wealth of more memorable moments to recall. It was Thorfinn's expression that caused her to recall that night. She remembered now that one of the snatchers had looked similar to him. It was only then that she recalled on Thorfinn's slip of information about her mother's capture.
Agatha's first compulsion was to fly from Thorfinn. She wondered now if he had even led her the right way. Perhaps he wanted her to return to her room before he slaughtered her. So that he could steal her father's coinage.
She spun around and began to walk away slowly in the direction Thorfinn had given to her. She didn't want to let him know that she knew of his involvement or show that she was scared of him. She shook her head and held a hand up to her forehead as the imagined feeling of grasping, hurtful hands threatened her once more. He wont follow me home, thats too risky; father could be there already. Unless he knew something about her father's fate at the hearing. The thought of her parent's corpses lying in a dark room somewhere sent a shock through Agatha. She stopped, stunned. The imaginary hands were gone. Agatha turned back towards Thorfinn and glared at the snatcher for a moment. She imagined hurting him but the details of how she's accomplished this remained vague.
Suddenly, Agatha feigned her legs giving way under her and grabbed a rock in her hand. Which she used to scrape across her knee to cause a light injury. Though it was only a light wound, she bled more than she'd actually intended. Agatha cried out a high screech and held her hands against her scraped knee. She made an effort to move back and forth as if in pain. The sound of heavy footfalls were the first sign Agatha had of an approaching person. She now realized a possible mistake she might have made in luring Thorfinn into her trap; she was still near Knockturn Alley and very possibly even deeper within. A portly wizard walked up beside her and gazed down at her with a wand in his hand. Agatha hadn't counted on such an occurance. The man knelt down beside her when he's apparently determined that she wasn't a danger to him.
"Are you alright?" He asked in a tired, raspy voice.
"Yes. I think so." Agatha had stopped acting injured and very nearly got to her feet before she realized that her hand had gathered quite a lot of blood from her cut. The man grasped at her knee and Agatha pushed his hand away mostly because he'd surprised her. "Ow!" Agatha exclaimed. "Get away from me!" The look and concern of this man told her that Thorfinn at least had been honest about leading her toward Diagon Alley. She felt rather embarassed about being caught in the middle of such a silly ruse. Her face began to flush as she considered fleeing the scene before she made an even bigger fool of herself.
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