Post by rene1 on May 12, 2012 15:20:53 GMT -5
Magnus had never had an interest in the paranormal. The man who’d adopted him always told him that believing in such things was allowing yourself to be satisfied with not knowing, and that simply wouldn’t do. There was always an explanation, point in true, even if the explanation happened to be a very lonely, attention-seeking ghost. But these didn’t happen to be the same type of ghosts that humans spoke of; these ones were tangible, could sit and explain to you what they were instead of simply knocking over expensive china dishes.
The Shrieking Shack had been one of those few mysterious places in Hogsmeade that he had an interest in. It was a run down looking place with a drooping roof and a creaking porch, and Magnus had to walk past it every day as he went home. Sometimes he’d slow his long strides and look up at the place from the sidewalk, before moving on with his day, not letting the old house linger in his memory until he had to walk past it again the next day.
But this particular day was dreary and damp and he swore from the smell of the air that it would rain soon. He’d forgotten to bring himself an umbrella, and he’d be damned if he went to work with his hair ruined and looking anything less than perfection personified. If only he could get to work before then… but of course, he didn’t quite want to risk it if he didn’t make it.
The German gazed up at the house with the greying trees and stooping porch and wondered if he could at least stand there until the rain let up, if it ever came. The world ‘haunted’ was nowhere near as daunting to him as it perhaps should’ve been, and after some deliberation, he placed a hand on the rusty fence and allowed it to fall open.
A temporary shelter… just for a little while, until the rain that he didn’t know would come could pass.
