Having a lengthy tenure at St. Mungo’s Arlo didn’t often have to work weekends. That was unless one of the trainees screwed up or he was called in to assist on a more complicated case. Today he had been in the hospital because he had ever so gratefully volunteered to help one a research project with one of his colleagues on the Spell Damage ward.
“Now, Sam, I think we’re going about this —“
The words died in his throat as the skull and serpent barreled through the corridor. Even among the panic erupting around him, he could have sworn it was looking right at him. And al he felt was barely contained anger. Once was bad enough. Twice? Unacceptable.