Who: Demetrius Greensmith, and Open What: Getting the skoop When: Late morning, early afternoon FRIDAY July 15th, 1955 Where: The streets of Diagon Alley and anywhere you'd like! Status: Incomplete, open
It had been threatening rain all morning, and Demetrius was not surprised to find the shops of Diagon Alley mostly empty. Umbrella kept by his side, just in case, he traveled closest to the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, hoping to pick up at least one side of his story on this end: where the inhabitants were more likely to be pro-muggle. On his way he passed a brand new bookstore, and curious he stepped inside, drawn in by the rows upon rows of large volumes. Certainly someone who owned such a shop could only be well-read and an interesting interview?
"Sir, have you ever been to Bali?" Startled, Demetrius spun around only to find nothing. He craned his neck and again found no body to the voice. "Sir?" again, and the voice, he noticed, came from far below. He glanced down as was greeted by a pair of oversized bottlecap glasses, and great big gray eyes. Spooky tufts of white hair stuck out from both sides of the man's head.
"...hello!" He greeted, taking a step back to more fully appreciate the man's impressively short stature. He was old, perhaps fifty or so, just growing into his balding scalp. The man looked quizzically up to him and smiled, grin wider even than his foot-ball shaped head.
"We've a whole section on Bali, you know?" The man smiled up, unseeing. Demetrius shook his head. "...Bali?" The place, Bali? "Do you work here?" He asked loudly and slowly, motioning around him with wide hands. The elderly shopkeep only smiled back. "Did you know that in Bali they have beds the size of your thumb? And you know who lives in them? Carrots! Real, life carrots! They walk and talk and have more carrots, but they're the size of your thumb- and hairy!"
Demetrius emerged half an hour later with sore legs and a bruised brain. With quick steps he landed himself in Flourish and Blotts, and spent his time meandering and lounging about, eyes still raised, as though permanantly surprised by everything he'd heard from his short-term acquaintance.
"I shall have to warn Doris~ her avid book-shopping could get her into trouble one day. I know far more about Bali that I ever wished to." With a sigh he slipped into a chair and settled into some notes, curiously considering the man known as Tom Riddle he had come to be interested in. Such suspicious behavior deserved looking in to.
With interest he regarded the growing number of men and women entering the shop. Perhaps they knew more about Riddle than he did, or better yet, had an ounce or two of gossip to share. Gossip was his favorite. People were meant to be exploited.