#immoralstart

[bestbones]

ᴡʜᴏ: ᴀᴍᴇʟɪᴀ & ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴡʜᴇɴ: ᴊᴜɴᴇ 22ɴᴅ, 1977 ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ: ᴏʙꜱᴄᴜʀᴜꜱ ʙᴏᴏᴋꜱ

Amelia needed more information. The restricted section of the library had yielded some valuable results on potions. A folded page, ripped from one of the larger tomes, now resided in her purse but she was still very reluctant to take those drastic measures. Visiting a muggle clinic had crossed her mind more than once but how would she pay for it? Amelia couldn’t help but sigh deeply, standing in the narrow rows of Obscurus, searching for something, anything. She felt tears prick the corners of her eyes as she suddenly felt like she was sinking. Unaware of the person standing a few feet away, watching her with rapt attention, Amelia let out a small sob as she pushed an errant strand of hair from her face.

[regularblack]

Date: June 22nd, 1977 Time: mid-morning Open to: everyone

The park was small but quiet and the sun was warm, so Regulus sat on a bench beneath a tree with a new book. It was frivolous fare, about a Quidditch player who helped solved mysteries while wooing whichever witch was in charge of investigating the crime. His father wouldn’t approve, of course, as that sort of drivel wasn’t tolerated and he was to read only cultured literature, but it was the fifth book in the series and he hadn’t been discovered yet. He smiled as he sipped a muggle concoction called an Arnold Palmer that a halfblood witch had introduced him to, until a shadow moved into his light. Reg looked up. “May I help you?” he asked.