Late, 18th (19th?) January, 1890 — Rear of the Leaky Cauldron, London
“Bugger!” She exclaimed, rapping at the brick with a loosely-held wand. “Open up, wouldn’t you?”
She could have sworn the brick in question was the brick that would let her into Diagon Alley. (She was fairly certain this was the right wall; she certainly remembered ordering a drink or ...several at the Leaky Cauldron not so long ago, and she definitely hadn’t made it far since then.) Could her memory possibly be faulty? Thinking straight was becoming more arduous the longer she stood here, swaying slightly on the spot.
Merlin, she had done this countless times in her life; though perhaps during daylight hours, there was such a bustle of traffic in and out of the Alley that she often didn’t need to tap the bricks herself? Perhaps they changed every so often, like the passwords to common rooms at Hogwarts had used to. But if they did, who could expect her to keep track of that? The thought was outrageous.
She continued to tap at the bricks - not entirely sure, in her haze, which one of them she was supposed to be aiming for anymore. She felt her hand-eye coordination might be a touch off. Blast everyone who’d gone to bed at such a timid hour! Where was a hand when she needed it?
Just as she was on the verge of tossing away her wand in capitulation, however, Ester felt a change in the air of someone else’s breath, felt eyes on her. (Drunk or not, she was not a stranger to the sensation.) She tossed her head over her shoulder to test the theory, inciting a veritable rush of dizziness as she did. Whoever they were, Ester raised an eyebrow. “Enjoying the show?”
She could have sworn the brick in question was the brick that would let her into Diagon Alley. (She was fairly certain this was the right wall; she certainly remembered ordering a drink or ...several at the Leaky Cauldron not so long ago, and she definitely hadn’t made it far since then.) Could her memory possibly be faulty? Thinking straight was becoming more arduous the longer she stood here, swaying slightly on the spot.
Merlin, she had done this countless times in her life; though perhaps during daylight hours, there was such a bustle of traffic in and out of the Alley that she often didn’t need to tap the bricks herself? Perhaps they changed every so often, like the passwords to common rooms at Hogwarts had used to. But if they did, who could expect her to keep track of that? The thought was outrageous.
She continued to tap at the bricks - not entirely sure, in her haze, which one of them she was supposed to be aiming for anymore. She felt her hand-eye coordination might be a touch off. Blast everyone who’d gone to bed at such a timid hour! Where was a hand when she needed it?
Just as she was on the verge of tossing away her wand in capitulation, however, Ester felt a change in the air of someone else’s breath, felt eyes on her. (Drunk or not, she was not a stranger to the sensation.) She tossed her head over her shoulder to test the theory, inciting a veritable rush of dizziness as she did. Whoever they were, Ester raised an eyebrow. “Enjoying the show?”
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