Lately, Lawrence afforded to get closer to the village, even if for short amounts of time when he hoped the aurors expected it least. This time, it was a rainy afternoon, not even four o’clock yet, and the atmosphere was so blank and dead that the man couldn’t imagine anybody wanting to go outside willingly. The sun light was covering them, hence the lack of intense auror patrols. He picked a right time to make one quick appearance on one lonely street at the bottom of the village, where nobody looked. Where Emma and Lucille lived. Waiting by the balcony next to their door - a common one for all those who lived in the building (but they were people who hardly wanted to see anything other than their gloomy apartments; nobody afforded that kind of flat and was innocent, did they?), in a spot where shadow almost protected him. He said nothing, waiting, ready to apparate away if something didn’t go according to the plan.
@outcastemma @maytelesslucille
