January 26, 2025 – 2:12 PM
10th January, 1895 — Auror Offices
Something was wrong with him, Nick suspected – he was under some kind of curse. Sometimes he was fine, normal, but other times: his brain or his mouth would not let him say what he wanted to. He was already sick of his own sincerity.
The Auror offices had needed a translator to interrogate a suspect or a witness in Urdu, so had sent for him. Nick had waltzed up and had presently been left to loiter in the Auror offices, waiting for the interrogator to brief him and take him in to translate.
He glanced up when someone entered, not-quite aware that the random chair he had taken had set him in their way. Instead, he’d recognised the Auror as Miss Sandow, and tried (tried being the operative word) for a small, mocking smirk in hello. It didn’t work – all he had done was smile at her, in a friendly way – and his I hope it wasn’t you who called me up here came out instead as a so-expressly-cordial-it-was-almost-earnest, “Auror Sandow! Lovely to see you. You look well.”
The Auror offices had needed a translator to interrogate a suspect or a witness in Urdu, so had sent for him. Nick had waltzed up and had presently been left to loiter in the Auror offices, waiting for the interrogator to brief him and take him in to translate.
He glanced up when someone entered, not-quite aware that the random chair he had taken had set him in their way. Instead, he’d recognised the Auror as Miss Sandow, and tried (tried being the operative word) for a small, mocking smirk in hello. It didn’t work – all he had done was smile at her, in a friendly way – and his I hope it wasn’t you who called me up here came out instead as a so-expressly-cordial-it-was-almost-earnest, “Auror Sandow! Lovely to see you. You look well.”