The Bench
Date: TBA Location: Ministry Atrium
@dcphns He’d first seen it on his release. Still there, still in the same position. There were a few more scuffs and scratches and what looked like a little light singing on one arm, but it was whole.
After a fruitless attempt to set up his own filing system in his assigned living space he had made his way down to the atrium, past the large fountain. There was a copy of the day’s Prophet, but he’d read it already, and so he thumbed through it with a vague lack of interest, finding even the crossword had been half filled in. But it was something to do at least. His hands got itchy when he didn’t have a task to set at with gusto.
The paper lowered with a rustle and he looked at the person who had sat down a space away from him, correcting a misspelling in one box with a pencil and pausing at the next clue. “You wouldn’t know which Quidditch team Fowler, P. plays for would you?” The problem with the big gap of time was in all the little day to day things he had missed out on. Exactly the sort of things people put into crosswords.
“You know this is where my fathers were engaged.” He added, trying to keep conversation flowing.