Thomas G. Montague (bitandbridle) wrote in feelsfeelsfeels, @ 2016-01-15 00:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | insperatus, monteri, oliver piperi, thomas montague |
july 1977
Tommy had tried to make himself look as... normal as possible before he had left his Cheshire manor that morning. It was odd enough for him to be going into a muggle city in the first place, but even if it weren't, his intentions alone were reason enough to want to appear nondescript. He had settled on a simple pair of jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black leather jacket, a combination that was far more plain than he was used to, but that was exactly what he had wanted. Besides, where he was going, he doubted anyone would be in any place to judge his dressed-down appearance without coming across as highly hypocritical.
It wouldn't exactly matter for much longer if they did, anyway.
He had spent the previous evening looking into his options, and decided that Manchester was both far enough away from Wilmslow and a plausible place for accomplishing what he had set out to do; and he had been correct. The weight of the metal weapon in his jacket pocket was a stark reminder that he had accomplished what he had set out to do, and, yet, he found himself wandering through the city rather than making his way back home. It wasn't that he was afraid, at least, Tommy didn't think so. No, he had fully resigned himself to what he intended to do over the preceding weeks.
Still, now that the time had come, he was in no rush. There was no harm in drawing it out just a bit longer, was there? It wasn't even noon yet. If this was going to be his last day on earth, well, he ought to last it out, right? Right. Of course, that didn't mean he had to be particularly conscious of it, and Tommy allowed himself to get lost in his own thoughts as he walked the streets of the unfamiliar city. He was going over a mental checklist in his mind, once again making sure he hadn't missed anyone when writing his letters, when a familiar voice caught his ears, causing him to halt his steps.
He glanced around, and made to resume walking when he failed to spot the classmate he was expecting, until he noticed someone rolling out from underneath a - what were they called? Motor vehicles? Yes, that was it, but why would anyone be underneath one? As the person in question sat up, Tommy felt himself stiffen, recognizing the face that had come into view. He had been right, he had heard who he thought he had. Pip Piperi, one of the many muggleborns - mudbloods, he reminded himself - in his year at Hogwarts. That was the last thing he needed, to be spotted by someone like Piperi. Although it wouldn't matter mere hours from then, Tommy couldn't help feeling that it was vital he not be seen by the other boy, and was quick to duck his head and begin walking past the shop - or garage, as the sign above the door called it.