♞. @lcgilimens liked for a cog starter.
there had not been news of graves for months, but he had been deep in the interrogation chambers when grindelwald had been under custody. public appearances were rare, thoughts of his existence became remnants better used for ace moves. grindelwald’s escape had not been the worst, and he finds his trail cool with precision, the capture of death eaters and supporters few and swift. the rain sputters heavy, no place for anyone on the crowded streets, and amid the scurry, he sees a distressed figure on the ground, drenched to darkened clothes. a hand extends, grip on her shoulder still as firm as before he’d been HIT by the killing curse.
‘ ….. —– queenie. ‘
it’s all so much worse than what she thought it would be like. go to paris, find tina. no problem. but she forgot to factor in the people ––– oh new york was busy, but it was familiar. the hum of the crowds could overwhelm her sometimes, but she managed just fine, didn’t she? she knew the streets well enough to maneuver without bumping into too many people. here, it was busy and unfamiliar and everything she heard was indistinguishable.
then the rains come. people scurry and their thoughts all blur together into one booming mess of everything she can’t understand. don’t cry, don’t cry. pull it together, you gotta find teenie. her hands find their way up to her ears in a futile attempt to block out the sound ––– she hasn’t been overwhelmed like this since she was a girl. it’s too much (too much, too much. teenie! where are you?!) she sinks to the floor and sobs, soaked to the skin, but too frazzled to do anything but ride it out.
and then it’s quiet. a hand grips her shoulder and she swears she hears her name. sniffling, she turns and her heart stops.
