Who Will You Run To
AN: Right, well I'm aware I have like three other WIP's at the moment but this idea just wouldn't go away and I thought I should probably attempt to get it out before it's too late and all I have time for are my A Levels.
I'm a through and through slash writer so I'm afraid that there will be slash in this too, so if you don't like it don't read it.
I have never even thought of writing anything of this pairing but it just seemed to fit and when I checked I realized there are only like, nine Theo/Hermione stories out there. So hey, first attempt at writing het, let me know what you think.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, if I did I would have a lot more money than I do now.
Who Will You Run To
Prologue
The man drew his cloak closer around himself as he exited the grimy pub and entered the alley beyond. It wasn't particularly cold outside yet the man found himself shivering all the same. He couldn't shake off the feeling that there were people watching him but he knew he was just being paranoid.
He took a deep breath and looked around. The Alley was just the way he remembered it. The small shops, selling all sorts of weird and wacky things that one would only read of in books, the people bustling about from place to place dressed in robes of varying colour and style, The tattered looking women and men trying to sell their questionable goods and the smell of a million different things melding into one.
The man smiled. It was good to be back where he belonged.
He continued down the alley and entered what looked to be a book store called 'Flourish and Blotts.' He skimmed the books with a wistful look on his face before moving on to another shop called 'Quality Quidditch Supplies,' there were several children standing by the window of the store, gaping at a new make of broomstick.
But what caught this mans eye was something completely different. It was a poster. And as he looked at it he felt himself go cold. The previous feeling of belonging left him, making him instead feel empty and scared.
He snatched the poster off of the wall and made to quickly leave. Walking as fast as he felt he could, without looking conspicuous he made for the pub at the top of the Alley. His earlier feeling of being watched was reaching new heights and he felt as though the many people who just seconds ago seemed so welcoming and ordinary, were slowly closing in on him.
The last thing he felt before the world went dark was many hands grabbing at him to keep him still as he struggled to get away and the last thing he saw was a head of bushy brown hair, a face he thought he recognized and a wand being pointed directly at him.
The poster he had previously snatched from the window of the Quidditch store fluttered to the ground. It showed a moving picture of a very young dark haired man angrily glaring from his boundaries and read;
WANTED
THEODORE NOTT
TBC