The Bear and Barnacle

Quirinus Quirrell walked out of Bookman’s on Northdown Road clutching a largish paper parcel. He’d taken advantage of the ten books for ten pounds special that the man ran frequently. Bookman guaranteed that the books had all their pages, but that was all. You got what you got and too bad if you didn’t like it. However, Q was interested in quantity, not necessarily quality. Replacing all of his books, especially the magical ones, was quite impossible, but he had to start somewhere. He opened the parcel and rummaged inside without looking, vowing to read whatever his hand closed on first. He pulled out a massively thick volume, gave a satisfied sigh, and began reading, the parcel tucked up under his arm. He retained just enough presence of mind to not step out into traffic. Sure you have. Sure. I never forget a face. Come on over here and let me shake your hand! Q walked and read, oblivious to where he was going. Tell you somethin’: I recognised you by the way you walk before I ever saw your face good. You couldn’t have picked a better day to come. . The back of his neck prickled and Q rubbed it absently, his fingers straying to the ragged hair on the back of his head that would never completely grow back. Again the prickle, as if he was being watched. Q glanced around, not recognising the street he was on. His mouth was suddenly dry. Was he being watched? He closed the book on his finger and swallowed nervously, his eyes darting up and down the block. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, just rows of flats. He opened his book again. Can you sit a spell with me? Over here on the steps will be fine. Q inadvertently looked at the steps of the building he was passing. Did he see a curtain twitch? "Stop being such a ninny," he muttered to himself. "No one’s watching you. You don’t even know this street." But an icy shiver ran down his spine. Q shut the book and put it back in the bag. He’d read it later. Right now he figured he’d best keep his wits about him. He patted his pocket, feeling for his wand. He started walking again. He couldn’t be too lost, he reasoned. He’d just walk to the beach and go home from there. Everything would be fine. Just fine.