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Ronald B. Weasley (geroffme) wrote in wished,

"No?" Ron flipped the side of his cloak out a little as he walked, sounding bored. The uniform underneath (probably the most impressive part of his job to date, not that he was complaining) usually shut people up, especially around here. It was a bit heavy handed, but then - so was he. And he had never much enjoyed being called ginger. "I wouldn't make trouble for yourself, if I were you," he said, looking straight on at him when they were a moment or two away from knocking shoulders.

That was when he recognized him - and at first, he wasn't sure from where. It might have been posters, a newspaper, some run-in during the war, he couldn't be sure - but he knew that it was bad. It didn't matter to him that he couldn't put a name to the face. He had his wand out a second later. "Who are you?" he demanded, now blocking the way even more resolutely. He wasn't quite prepared to shoot first and ask questions later.