A slim hooded figure threw the Floo Powder into the fire of the rickety hotel room. If it were to peer out of the window it would have seen an immense chimney, a relic of a disused brewery, lit by dim moonlight, shadowy and ominous. There was no other sound, other than the clear whisper. As the green flames of the Floo Network surrounded the figure, it inclined its head as if wishing the hotel by the brewery farewell.
With a very faint pop, the figure appeared, hood still intact in the new fireplace. There was no sign of life apart from a scrawny fox that had slunk into the dilapidated three storey warehouse, ignoring the blackened windows and obviously eluding the various protective charms, hoping to nose some old gourmet burger wrappings remaining from yesterday’s dinner. The fox froze, its wary eyes fixed upon this strange, new phenomenon. The figure seemed to take its bearing for a few moments, then set off with light, quick strides, its long cloak rustling over the concrete floor of the warehouse.
The movement startled the fox, whose eyes bore into the figure like a policeman interrogating a suspect. It leapt from its hiding place with a yelp. The figure pulled back its hood and the long brown hair fell around her face framing it with the perfection she craved. “What have we got here then?” said the woman’s voice, smiling gently. “Just a fox…Want something to eat?” She said looking down at the creature, bending down hoping she wasn’t being threatening. She moved forward beckoning the animal to follow her. I hope it hasn’t made a mess out there… Her need to control and for cleanliness taking over if a little bit of a silly point when you were set up in an abandoned warehouse.
“I hope you aren’t some Animagus spy…” She said as she turned on her heel and placed down some tuna and chicken in a bowl in front of the red-furred creature. Makes a change from Goblins I guess… She perched against the kitchen’s surface watching the fox as it ate. It had been her father’s passion for animals that had passed down to Maia Greenfeld. She after all was a daddy’s little girl. “I wonder what he would think of me now…” Maia looked down at the animal again. She was loathed to touch it, as she would find herself scrubbing her fingers for ages to make them clean again. But the curiousity of the action, was of interest to her.
She took papers out from the folds of her emerald coloured cloak. Despite the probable need for blending with the No-Maj, Maia often found herself wrapped in the emerald folds. Even sometimes on one of the threadbare sofas somewhere on the warehouse floor papers strewn across her, after a hard session writing to journalists. She sighed after all, that was what she was here to do. It gave her a job… a purpose… The fox had turned from its fishy meal a bit too quickly. She smiled when she saw the figure entering. “I’m back… and I’ve got a story…”TAG LUCAS O'BRIEN