WHO: Clement Max and Byron Kettleburn WHAT: Clem catches Byron on his paper route WHEN: Late tonight, 3 April WHERE: Diagon Alley WARNINGS: 😬
Clement hated guarding the wandless. They were gross and dirty and some of them wouldn’t stop complaining. And he still had to go to work the next day after a guard shift. But he couldn’t exactly tell the Dark Lord he didn’t want to hang out in Diagon all night because it messed with his sleep and work schedule. He’d just complain about it in detail to Dante and Vic later.
It had been a fairly uneventful night, the Wandless having learned to not try beg him or try to engage him in any sort of conversation and he was just about to clock off for the night when he noticed someone new entering the alley. Which was suspicious — between Wandless and Dementors, most people tended to avoid Diagon at night.
He stepped back into the shadows, watching the man for a moment.
Byron himself kept to the shadows, skirting the edges of the buildings as he had several times before. Every few feet, he cast a sticking charm and stuck up a page off a stack of papers he had tucked under one arm. He left small stacks of them on the ground behind him.
Every so often, he paused to glance over his shoulder, checking to make sure no one was following him. Little did he know he was being watched the entire time.
Clement squinted behind his mask to make out the papers being stuck around Diagon. He couldn’t read the text, but he recognised the header. The Beacon.
As Byron drew closer to him, Clement stepped out in front of him, blocking his path. “What do we have here?” he asked, picking a paper off the pile. “It looks like a punishable offense.”
At first sight of the Death Eater, Byron froze. His breath caught in his throat and his heart hammered away in his chest but neither fight or flight made any appearance. He sounded like he needed a glass of water when he answered, “Oh, hello.”
With a shrug, he took a step backward and picked up a pile of bulletins he’d just dropped on the ground. At the end of a nervous laugh he explained, “Just out for a late night stroll and thought I’d collect all the rubbish while I’m at it.”
Looking up from the papers, Clement realised it was his former classmate who was handing them out. And who apparently thought he was an idiot who’d fall for his pathetic attempt at an excuse. “You might want to go back and collect all the ones you’ve stuck around, if that’s the case,” Clement pointed out, gesturing behind him at the multiple copies that adorned walls and posts. “I’ve been watching you.”
“Oh, well, no problem!” Byron’s voice was at a strained level of chipper as he reached into his pocket to procure his wand. “I’ll get right on with it then —” He took a quick step back and pointed his wand at the Death Eater. “Obliviate!”
Clement reached for his wand at the same time Byron did, but was beaten to the draw. He blinked, as though seeing his surroundings for the first time. “Hello,” he greeted the man in front of him. “Can you help me? I think I’m lost.”
It worked.
Byron breathed out a laugh that combined relief and disbelief. He clapped a hand down on his shoulders. “No worries, mate, happens to me all the time.” Then he pointed toward a dimly lit pub. “Why don’t you head over there? I’m sure they can sort you out.”
Clement nodded and headed towards the pub the helpful stranger had pointed him towards with no question, further confusion setting in when patrons cowered or fled at his appearance. But at least the bartender seemed more than willing to go out of his way to help get him out of the pub and back home.