MAY 02 NPCs (may_npc) wrote in may02, @ 2010-06-15 15:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | !!complete, !june 1998, lee jordan, melinda bobbin, michael corner, npc: hershel hall, wayne hopkins |
Characters: Hershel Hall [OPEN to witnesses].
Setting: A cafe next to the Leaky Cauldron. 15 June, 1998.
Ratings: PG-13.
Summary: Hershel Hall is in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Hershel Hall had never been the type who got a lot of attention. It's not that there was anything wrong with him; he was just the sort who easily fell under the radar unless he made a conscious attempt to stand out. Needless to say that wasn't often; he just found it so much easier if he only spoke to those he wanted to and let the rest not know he was alive. Less problems and drama that way.
This, however, wasn't good. All he'd wanted was to go to Flourish and Blotts and but a book, just a book, but the instance he had made it through the Leaky Cauldron and into Diagon Alley, he'd found himself being dragged off to the side and unable to speak. He knew, because he'd tried. More than once, he'd tried, and he was unable to actually form the words and speak every single time.
The man who'd stood before him just smirked as if he knew what Hershel was attempting to do. "That won't work. You do what I want you to, and that's all."
Imperius. Obviously, it had to be that. The man was in control of him and Hershel was now nothing more than a spectator to his own actions. Stuck in his own body, unable to move however he wanted and subject to the wishes of someone else. He was suddenly very uneasy, felt it right in the pit of his stomach.
"Take out your wand."
Hershel did as he was ordered, easing his wand out of his pocket and holding it tightly in his hand. He'd seen the papers lately. The Dark Mark that had been in the sky, the article the previous month about all those attacks. And now this. Now him. He'd managed for years to stay away from the heat of action, and just by wanting a sodding book, he'd gotten himself caught up in it. How was that even fair?
The man didn't even say anything else, but Hershel's feet began to move of their volition, taking him away from the side of the building and out to the main alley. He tried to fight, he really did, but he was apparently not strong enough, because he kept going, kept walking. Right through the doors of the first cafe beside the Leaky Cauldron, his wand in a vice grip in his hand.
He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to do this. But it was some completely out of his control as his arm lifted in the air, waving his arm perfectly. Almost instantly, furniture and items were set aflame, and Hershel could do nothing but look on in horror as it quickly spread. Faster than some could escape. He didn't stop there, however. He couldn't. And people were dying or hurt because of him.