Who: Cassandra Vablatsky and Lysander Scamander What: Intrigued by a sign promising a fortune told, Lysander knocks on a door! When: Sunday Night, after his meeting with Gellert Where: Cassandra's Home Status/Rating: Incomplete // Medium! (Get it? Medium? Oh, I'm a riot.)
We are such stuff As dreams are made on; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.
***
Chances were good that Lysander should not have walked out of the Whizzer with the glass of wine he'd ordered in his hand, but it wasn't as if he hadn't paid for it, he just wanted to drink it in the night air, instead of in the restaurant. His head felt fat with new ideas, plans and even more appreciation for the lovely Mr. Grindelwald, who was even more fascinating (and short) in person.
He sipped the room temperature red as he walked from the street lined with stores to the the row of cottages. Lysander figured he would walk this street in endless circles to sort his thoughts and properly file away everything he'd discovered about Gellert that day.
But then, out of the corner of his eye, a sign caught his attention. There was a Fortune Teller here and Lockewood and no one had bothered to inform him? How terrible.
Lysander finished off the wine in his glass and left it on the porch before approaching the door and giving it a knock with the back of his knuckles without so much as a second thought. If there was a seer behind that sign then perhaps they could help him--and if it was just some liar with a deck of cards--then at least he'd be entertained, and he was always in the mood to be entertained.