“ There’s no fun in using a key, Bones. ” She teasingly commented as Dorcas looked up from the glass of Firewishkey she had poured herself in Edgar’s absence. “ And you know I’m always up for a challenge. Then again at this rate I don’t think I can consider breaking into your flat a challenge anymore, can I? ” She teased as she flitted her eyes up at him.
“I’m going to walk in completely unsuspecting one day and someone will have actually broken in.” He said with a grin as he crossed to flop on the couch beside her. “It will be all your fault when someone ambushes me in my own home.” He smirked at her as he poured a glass of the dark liquid for himself. She had, of course, improved his protective charms by breaking in just as his charms had improved her “breaking and entering” skills. The two were on par with one another and he doubted that many others would be able to make it through his barriers with as little evidence as Dorcas did.
Ed sighed as his flat door pushed open with ease and locked and charmed the door as he walked in and closed it. It took only a few steps to stand in the doorway to the living room where he leaned with a smirk and crossed arms. “Will you ever just use the damn key I got you?”
“Seriously?” Mary called back, shouldering her way through the crowd of shoppers that bustled between her and Edgar. When she caught up to him, she let out an irritated huff and flashed him a slightly disgruntled glare, though their friendship could withstand the look despite its typical MacDonald hostility. “Nip the attitude, Bones, or you can find yourself a different photographer.”
Ed shook his head as if clearing his vision as it was Mary who appeared at his side from the crowd. “Oh!” He said with eyebrows raised. “I didn’t realize you had followed me. You didn’t seem to keen on this one so i figured you’d find a more interesting lead.” He turned back to the direction he had been moving. “Just don’t fall behind.” He added with a flash of a smirk before making his way off again.
The sound of a stack of parchment hitting his desk pulled Ed’s mind out of his work and he looked up to see a copy of an article. Ed’s brows knit together as he looked up at the face of the person who had dropped the parchment to his desk. Of course it’s Skeeter. He thought to himself. But a witty retort fell short on his tongue as he noticed the usual spark of “I’m better than you” didn’t seem to be flying in her eyes.
“It’s being printed as soon as possible, but I thought I’d give you a bit of a heads up.” This had Ed even further confused as she turned and walked away - she never did something like give him a heads up about one of her articles. He put his quill to the side and reached for the piece of parchment scribbled in a familiar hand. A large part of him wanted to ignore the article - there must be some ulterior motive or something of the sort. But the look in Rita’s eyes had him- dare he say worried?
The first words on the page confirmed that the look she had given him was indeed one of pity - maybe she had a heart after all. Incriminating Finds At The Bones’ Home. His gut dropped as his eyes read through the rest of the article in record speed. His gut didn’t stop dropping even as his eyes scanned the last line of the article. He couldn’t believe it one bit - this had to be one of her dumb fake scandals. He would get to the bottom of this himself.
In an instant, Ed was up from his desk and heading towards the door. The looks he got from his co-workers was pretty telling as he walked through the departments towards the front door. As soon as he crossed the threshold of the building, he spun on a foot and was gone with a loud pop.
It had been years since he had set foot on the grounds of his childhood home, but he strolled through the gates without a second thought as soon as his feet touched the ground - only to be stopped by a wizard a little bit older than him. “You can’t enter, sir, sorry. This is a crime scene.” He crossed his muscled arms as if to emphasis this fact.
“This is my home.” Ed said back, his heart skipping in his chest and brows knit together in a mix of anger and fear.
The wizard before him raised an eyebrow questioningly at this statement. “Our records only have one male living at this house and he is currently in custody, so you better come up with a better lie or get out of my sight in the next 10 seconds.”
“My name is Edgar Bones, eldest son of Edward and Clarice Bones, the residents of this home. Now let me through - I want to know what’s happened to my parents.” The anger he was feeling seeped into his voice as he spoke and his fist beside him clenched and shook.
The hit wizard in front of him narrowed his eye suspiciously before saying “Their son, eh? I think you’d better come with me then.”
If the circumstances had been different, Ed might have punched that smug smirk off the hit wizards face as he turned around, but as it was, the best chance Ed had at some answers was talking to someone higher up than this dim-witted muscle man. So Ed followed behind with his eyes narrowed in annoyance and anger to who he assumed was the officer in charge of this case. Muscles, as Ed decided to call him for lack of a real name, leaned over to whisper in the officers ear and the officer excused himself from the conversation he had been having to make his way towards Ed.
“Edgar Bones.” He said holding out a hand as he approached, baring a smile not too unlike what he expected a vampire would give right before they sucked your dry. “The name’s Smith and I’m the auror in charge of this investigation. I have a few questions for you if thats alright.”
“I’ll answer your questions if you’ll tell me what the bloody hell has happened here.” Ed spat back at the man. “This is - was - my home. It is my parents being accused. I deserve to know.”
“Now calm down. There’s no need to be upset -” The auror began before Ed cut him off sharply.
“No need to be upset? You’re accusing my own flesh and blood of heinous, dark crimes.” Ed conveniently left out the fact that he barely spoke to his own flesh and blood anymore.
“Yes. Your own flesh and blood.” Auror Smith repeated in uninterested monotone as he reached within his robes to pull out a pad of parchment and quill, not unlike the items Ed used when taking notes for an article. “Now if you could answer a few questions about your parents, I would be happy to answer some of yours.”
Ed snarled in response to this statement. “How the fuck am I supposed to answer questions if you don’t tell me what’s happened?”
The auror ignored Ed’s snappish reply and continued one, taking more notes. “Would you say that your parents showed any signs of interest in the dark arts as you were growing up with them? Any sort of dark magic items around the house? Any bitterness towards muggles or the minist-” The auror was cut off once again by Ed, but not by his words but actions.
Ed had grabbed the auror by the front of his robes, their noses only an inch from each other. “Look here ‘Auror Smith’” Ed began, the anger in his voice forcing it out as a hiss. “They may have been horrible at being parents, but there no way in hell they were dark wizards. They spent day and night in that bloody basement of a department over there at the ministry working for you and you have no reason to turn your back on them now. It’s obvious they framed my father for running for minister. It’s Rodolphus you should be questioning, not me.” Ed finished by dropping the still startled auror to the ground and turning on his heel to disapparate back to the city. It was obvious to him that this was the work of the death eaters and he would prove it.
“I don’t have much time, but I can spare a few minutes if you make it quick.” Ed replied to the person who had called out to him from the crowd. He slipped his pocket watch back into a inner pocket of his cloak as he waited for them to speak.
Dorcas admittedly didn’t know what to make of Edgar’s owl. He said there was something she needed to see, but she knew that could have meant just about anything. Tonight however she had a preconceived notion this visit would be more eerie than their usual spectacle of dosing hard alcohol and entertaining themselves with borderline potentially dangerous pranks. No, there was hardly time nowadays for childish humor with any of her friends. With brewing tensions spreading among fellow Order Members and terrible uncertainty surrounding the fate of the Wizarding Community there wasn’t room for pleasantries.
Dorcas was discovering that most people were becoming more and more distant from each other nowadays—perhaps that was how they felt most comfortable wearing their fear. She decided to stop wasting time and quickly apparated over to her friend’s flat. She was all too familiar with the long stretch of corridor that led her directly to his door. She didn’t bother knocking, but instead began fiddling with the doorknob. Though it was locked that did not deter her from pressing onwards. Dismantling her wand from its holster she precisely aimed it at the door before annunciating a various slew of enchantments. She liked to believe she was good at getting inside her friends’ heads when she needed to; it hardly came as a surprise to her when the door swung open with ease.
Oh, and Edgar will be so pleased I didn’t break anything this time, she thought to herself optimistically. She carefully shut the door behind her and replaced the protective charms before calling out to him. “ Ed, are you home yet? ” She shuffled her feet down the corridor and around the bend where it spit her out directly in front of him. “ Ya know, you should really be more careful about leaving your door open—any crazy twat could just walk in here off the streets, ” she teased with a crooked smile aligning her lips.
She was instantly flooded with relief knowing they had both survived another day. Her heart beat a little faster and eyes brightened with the realization there would be another chance to say all things that went unsaid between them—not that she would seize the opportunity, instead foiling another chance to say all the thing she’s always wanted to let herself feel, but denied herself time and time again. She often got caught up wondering what the point was when there was so much more to be lost that way. Perhaps that was how she felt most comfortable wearing her fear; forging it into a mask of selfish intent and a complete lack of desire, when she was truly anything but that. “ So what is this great mystery of yours? I got here as fast as I could! ”
Less than a week ago, Ed would’ve taken this information to Dumbledore and Alastor. But less than a week ago, the minister was alive and the Order was in, well, order. Before the ministers death, the infighting and confusion was getting bad enough, now that he was in the ground and buried, the chaos among the ranks of the Order could barely be maneuvered at all.
The meeting had been almost painful to sit through, listening to two stubborn heads butt against one another. Ed had actually even excused himself early, unable to sit there and listen to the nonsense continue any longer. He agreed with both of them - both having their pros and cons. (What makes you a good news writer, he told himself with a smirk.)
They couldn’t just sit and watch, Alastor was right about that. Things had gotten too out of hand in the world to allow them that luxury. But his methods were known as a little less than subtle. Ed knew there was a middle ground. One where they weren’t sitting back and watching, but also not running in with no plan at all and getting everyone killed.
All of this is what had Ed standing before his kitchen table - never used for eating honestly - papers covering every last inch of the wooden circle, an owl sent to his best friend, an empty coffee pot to his left and a full cup of coffee in his hand.
Maybe it was the caffeine that had him jumpy or maybe it was what was happening in the world. Either way, Ed would blame the caffeine for how much his body flinched at the sound of a voice calling from inside his flat, but the familiarity of t he voice calmed his thrashing heartbeat just as quickly as it’s abruptness in the silence had caused it.
Relief floods him as he puts his coffee cup down and turns to see Dorcas’ smirk and bright eyes. He returns the smirk and ruffles her hair in greeting and teasing. “Lucky for me, I got the craziest of the twats from off the street.” He laughs a bit before turning back to the table, allowing room for her to come up alongside him. His eyes become serious once more, but can’t help the smile that sits on his lips as he bends over to begin to pull out sheets of parchment and realign them for Dorcas to look over.
Among the documents Ed pulls from the disorganized piles are articles from the Prophet, both published and not - he had had to do some favors to get those unpublished ones, but if this turned out true, than it would be more than worth it - some clippings form muggle newspapers and also some maps with various markings in fresh ink scribbled across them.
“These articles are from the past 7 months, spaced out by at least a couple weeks in between. Most of them never got published, but since I wrote more than a few of them, I knew about them.” He began placing them in a timeline of events. “And good thing I read the muggle news too, otherwise I never would’ve noticed.” Some hair fell in his eyes and he pushed it back, looking to Dorcas, a light once more in his eyes, excited that he had noticed what he had. “Long story short, I’m pretty sure there’s a Death Eater safe house of sorts or something here.” He tapped one of the markings on the map, an otherwise unnoteworthy place in the woods. “There was a house there once, but it’s been abandoned for years - left by the previous owners to rot and too far out for many to really think about it. Now of course, muggle teens dare each other to go in and things like that, which is where these come in.” He gestures to the muggle news clippings - missing townspeople, mostly ages 15-25, from a few towns very near the woods. “The times and places were too varied for anyone in the magical community to think twice about it. But when you pair it with the amount of times the DMLE has been sent within a 10 mile radius of the woods for various reasons, I find it more than a little bit suspicious.”
Ed finally paused, almost frozen for a second, still looking over all the papers on the table -trying to decide if there was more to say. He then turned to Dorcas with a grin spread across his face. “So what d’you say? Wanna go have a look see?”
It was the state of mind that he was in, it was entirely in the defensive and attuned mindset that he caught himself jumping at everything. His heart was racing and Arthur was having to force his breathing into a firm counting that was secondary nature to him. He hadn’t felt like this since the week of the attack, it shocked him. Perhaps it was because it was his home, with Molly resting upstairs, it left the twins more vulnerable downstairs and the boys upstairs shaky because he couldn’t floo them to his mother. Inhaling once more, he waited for the voice and was even more surprised by it’s familiarity. “One sec!” Arthur exclaimed shakily, there was extended sibilance on the ’s’. It calmed him as he realised who it was, uninhibited relief flooded his system and he laughed at himself.
Striding to the door, double checking Ed through the spy hole before swinging it open. “Sorry about that, I didn’t get your note and I’ve been working on some defensive stuff, just in that mindset y’know.” His speech was haywire as his pulse was still through the roof. “Give me a second.” Art gestured to his mouth as his words remained shaky, then stepped aside to invite him into the house. Art moved the twins into the same basket and carried them through to the living room, placing them by his chair. Settling his breathing, he popped the kettle on and pointed Ed to the living room, following him in with the tea shortly afterwards. “Sorry about that mate, it’s just after the attack.. Especially with the twins.” He placed Ed’s cup on the table in front of him, before keeping his own and staying settled.
“Anyway, how’re ya? What’s new?” He settled in the chair, taking a sip from the tea and looking over at Ed warmly.
Ed smiled when the door swung open to reveal Arthur and gave him a nod that said Don’t mind a bit as Arthur stumbled over his words slightly. His smile only grew as he watched Arthur grab the twins, screwing his face up into a funny one as they passed by below him in the basket. Following Arthur’s gesture, Ed made his way into the living room and fell back into an armchair next to the one the babies had been placed beside. As Arthur made the tea in the next room over, Ed continued to make strange faces towards the small forms in the basket near his feet, chuckling as they reacted to them. When their father made his way back into the room, he straightened up in his chair, taking the warm tea gladly between his palms, still slightly chilled from the walk down the lane.
“You’ve nothing to apologize for. We’ve all been on edge since that night. Prophet’s been a bloody mess. Speculations and stupid theories from wall to wall about what ‘actually happened.’” Ed rolled his eyes with the last two words. Some of the things people were saying were just plain absurd. “Been driving me insane, frankly. None of those people were even there, I bet. But other than that, life’s been treating me well. I see the twins are alright. How are the other bundles of joy?” Ed asked with a grin.
As the rain came down outside, Minerva McGonagall stepped briskly out of the designated area she had just Apparated in to. Her heels clacked on the floor of the Ministry Atrium as she moved out of the way. Pulling her wand out, Minerva aimed it at herself, drying the tan trench that was currently dripping onto the floor. She did the same for her hair, knowing that she would still have to go to the loo to check it before heading back into the office. The spell simply dried, it didn’t style.
Wisps clung to Minerva’s temple, and tickled at her neck, having been pushed out of the bun she had pulled her hair into earlier. Absently, she tucked one behind her ear as she decided which ladies’ room to duck into. She didn’t mind taking a little extra time before getting to work on her reports. While Minerva loved the day-to-day challenges and excitement being a member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad afforded her, having to write up each incident grew tiresome. Of course, her reports were always detailed, and to the point, but that didn’t make formulating them any more pleasant.
Deciding to head upstairs, Minerva reached the lift just as the doors were about to close. “Hold the lift, please!” she called.
With how much time Ed had spent in the Ministry of Magic trying to find something, anything, he could report on, he might as well have an office of his own there. That Carrow woman might be new to her position and not have the look of someone that could command, but she kept a tight ship. There was not a single leak to be found. Yet.
It was another early morning Ed had arrived at the ministry, the rain outside quite a mirror of his internal mood. Most of the workers that were popping in around him took the time to dry themselves off with a quick spell, but Ed didn’t see the point. A little bit a rain didn’t harm anyone. Rain ran from his outer cloak into rivulets on the floor and he walked on, over taking those who stopped to mop the moisture from their faces and shake the drops from their umbrellas.
Ed did not think that foregoing the drying that most had stopped to do would make that much of a difference, but here he was, alone in the lift as the doors began to close. A voice sounded from the crack and, Ed’s arm jumped between the doors almost unconsciously. As the metal creaked back open slowly, he was a bit surprised to see a face he recognized. Ed gave her a small smile and a slight nod. “Good morning, Minerva.”
Arthur’s inner monologue had been one filled with brief swearwords and many healing charms as he reworked through his manipulation of fire via nonverbal spells. It wasn’t an easy evening and it was rare that he had such a large block of unclaimed time like this at his disposal. The twins were swaddled warmly in two makeshift cots in the kitchen, he sat in the garden with the door open as he worked, so that he could hear them if they so much as burped.
“For fuck’s sake.” This time the profanity was audible, and professionally mumbled if he did say so himself. It didn’t take his attention too far from the two inch segment of his hand which he’d burned. Crossing another variation from his list, he had just gotten to hearing his hand when he heard a crack echo oer the fields surrounding The Burrow.
Instictually, he moved to the kitchen, locked the doors and started reinforcing the wards he’d set around his home. They were nothing special, but he’d taken the extra time to just set them at the present time. A precaution. Walking to the window, Art moved silently, curiosity set into his brow as a figure knocked softly on the front door. His tone was soft as he called out, resetting his path to the door.
“Hello?”
The air was chilly as Ed made his way down the lane that led to The Burrow, as the Weasley family’s home had been named.
The first time that Ed had met with Arthur, it was at a cafe and only for the purpose of a story. At first it had been an awkward meeting, with Ed being there for words and them coming a bit difficultly to Arthur and Arthur seeming to be a bit uncomfortable with that fact.Over a few cups of tea for the two, Ed started to find a rhythm that seemed to connect with and the subjects his words flowed over more easily. By the third time they met, Ed was honestly suggesting a meeting for pleasure more than work. As much as the editor had insisted that the people wanted to know about the odd department Arthur worked, they really hadn’t gotten many people raving about the article. The second article proved more that the people who were responding to the articles were just doing so to make fun. After that, there were no more articles, just genuine interest from Ed. It was almost calming to fall into the rhythm of talking to Arthur and listen to him describe things Ed had never come across in his life. It was an odd relationship for sure, but one that Ed enjoyed.
Today Ed had needed something, anything to distract him form the world. It had been building for weeks - since the attack - and as he reached for a bottle of amber liquid as the sun was breaking from the horizon, he thought it might be better to relax in a different way for once. He had written a short note and sent it off with an owl by breakfast time and simply worked until noon. He frowned when the owl returned with an empty leg half way through the morning, but shrugged and gave him a treat anyways. As the sun was beginning to set, he had left the building and disapparated to the lane that led to Arthur’s home and began making his way towards the building. Hands in his pocket, he whistled quietly as he strolled along the well worn path and to the door.
Ed’s whistle turned to hum as he knocked quietly on the door - best not knock loud in case a baby or two were sleeping soundly on the other side. His head tilted a bit in confusion as a voice came from the other side of the door without it being opened. “It’s Ed Bones.” He called back. “I’ve come for tea and a chat with a friend, like I put in the note....You did get the note, didn’t you?” Now that he was facing a closed and most likely locked and warded door, he was beginning to wonder if maybe his owl had returned without a reply because a child had pulled the note from his leg and neglected to tell their father about it.
The taste of victory faded from his tongue and it was a bitter loss to bear.
When the Minister had fallen, all Evan had done was breathe. He didn’t trust it at first; as the chaos erupted and the pieces fell into place, it had seemed like too much of an easy win. But then the Minister didn’t move; he lay in an unconscious heap on the floor, lying in a puddle of his own blood with no one was rushing at his side—it was every man for himself, the instinct they had meant to instill in people with this attack. To show them that it was useless for them to believe in unity or brotherhood like the fools from the Order did; because power was the only determining factor in the war they had set in motion. And this time, power was in their hands and the Minister had fallen. Eventually, Evan’s wariness had been replaced with heady relief; he had shut his eyes behind his mask and breathed because victory meant that he would live another day with renewed confidence in the path he had set for himself.
And then the Minister’s chest had moved—erratic, unstable flutters; his body was barely sustaining itself and yet, the Minister wasn’t dead as he had assumed.
Evan had gritted his teeth, his relief evaporating in the wake of the frustration that followed. His first instinct was to blame Amycus; he was supposed to deliver the killing blow and Evan wasn’t supposed to be the one cleaning up after him. Nonetheless, he seemed to be the only one among his comrades who had his eyes trained on the Minister so he took it upon himself to do what was necessary. After all, he could only imagined the favorable position he would end up in if he were the one who ended up saving the day and executing the mission to its end. Approaching the Minister with murderous intent and that aspiration in mind, Evan slipped between the cowering guests seeking refuge amongst the ruins of the Atrium and the opposing wizards currently exchanging curses and spells on the battlefield; a serpent with a purpose. Unfortunately, he didn’t get very far until a man—an Order member, he assumed—stood in his path. Just another obstacle, just another target.
A yellow bolt of magic whizzed past him and Evan’s eyes narrowed as he looked back at his adversary, expression blank and eyes growing dull as they always did before he went in for the kill. This time, there would be no choice of executing mercy or holding back; this time, he had no choice but to do what was necessary. As he always did. In an attempt to gauge his opponent’s strength, Evan muttered, “Expelliarmus,” and watched as the spell, prompted by his dark intent and frustration, flew across the air in a bolt of red towards his opponent.
People rushed around him as though they were the water of the stream and he were a rock. Blindly, they ran past Ed and the masked wizard he faced.
Ed exclaimed under his breath as he watched the light streak past the hood of the figure and that hood turn towards him. He didn’t have time to catch his breath as he saw the death eater raise his wand. Eyes wide, he dove towards the ground to dodge whatever the hooded wizard had intended for him. The red bolt of magic was well aimed and still grazed him as he rolled over to stand once more.
Not only did his wand fly from his hand, he had no idea where if must have gone as he was upside down when the streak of light hit and disarmed him. His teeth clenched as he righted himself before the wizard, staying low to the ground. Everything in him itched to try and find his wand in the chaos that still surrounded them, but knew better than to take his eyes off the death eater.
Keeping his center of balance low still, he launched himself forwards at the midsection of the cloaked person in front of him to try and knock him to ther ground. Even without a wand, we has going to do everything in his power to stop this person from reaching the minister.
Faerie: If you could get away with anything, what would you do?
I’ve never put too much thought into committing any crime really. Probably get rid of the dumb blonde who’s head is bigger than her hair and uses it to do nothing but spread gossip and lies around the entire country.
Millicent had yet to scrub the horror of the night before from the inside of her eyelids. Blink and she could see the mangled body of the minister, the way she Silas and Albus had hurried him off to the safety of the Department of Mysteries. Time had bent at odd angles since then. Some moments it passed incredibly quickly. She’d made her way through and entire kettle of tea with absolutely no memory of drinking any of it. She couldn’t remember where the hours of 8am and 9am went. At other moments, like now, time seemed to crawl painfully as she examined the photograph over and over and over again.
Edgar’s scowl of surprise at his own publication stirred nothing in Millicent.
“It’s the Prophet, Bones. You tell me who wrote this. You’re the one running things over there.”
The two had barely interacted at the yuletide festivities the night before. Before the attack, Millicent had been wrapped up in conversation. After, she’d been tasked with guarding the minister in the Department of Mysteries. Hardly a moment for her to say hello to Edgar. Then again, they weren’t necessarily friends. Their jobs meant that their paths tended to cross more often than not. Millicent didn’t hate the guy, but she wasn’t knocking on his door at the wee hours of the morning to discuss her latest theory. More than acquaintances, less than confidants. Smoking buddies.
Speaking of, she could do with a cigarette right about now.
“If you’re asking about sources though… I have guesses. Ones I’m sure you could jump to as well.” She noticed the way he gripped his newspaper before tossing it aside. She eyed the man behind her desk. “Did you know Vance?”
She wondered how he was holding up. If, like her, the events to still felt too fresh to even have really happened. It looked like Edgar hadn’t caught an ounce of shuteye. Millicent’s money was on alcohol.
“Just cause I’m the only sane one there, doesn’t mean I’m in charge.” Edgar said to Millicent as his eyes narrowed. The old geezer in charge couldn’t see past the low cut robes blondie wore to notice that though.
“And it’s fucking anonymous. So I don’t know even more. This must have come from a ministry official’s statement. I was the only prophet writer there last night.”
Ed rubbed a hand over his face and back through his hair before digging into his robes as she spoke once more. His hand stopped half way to his mouth with a cigarette perched between his fingers when ‘vance’ rang through the air between them.
“Mhmm” He hummed flatly with the cigarette clenched in his lips. His mind began replaying different details from last night, clear snippets that punched through the fog of fatigue and post adrenaline crash.
Screams ringing through the chaos of the aftermath - the sound unlike the other shouts that sounded from all around the atrium. Raw, unhinged, and worst of all, the voice familiar.
As two forms move apart, torn from one another by force, hands from one scratched at the air, trying to cling to the limp fingers of the other.
The eyes of one, staring towards the ceiling, Ed glimpsing the still, dead eyes only moments before the lids were slide closed by a man in black robes.
The eyes of the other, a mirror to the eyes he had seen less than an hour before. The only difference was the tears and red rims that the proved life behind them.
“He was a good man. Probably a better man than me honestly.” He pulled smoke through the cigarette as though he hoped to fog back over the memories that had come to the forefront of his mind. The smoke the billowed out of his mouth and his eyes stung. He liked to think it was the smoke that caused it.
