We always said that we would listen
And never hide what's on our minds
But, tonight it feels like something's missing
Is there a ghost that hides, in the world behind your eyes?
What's raging in you tonight?
It's hard to tell
When you're out of reach
And I can't help you 'til you tell me everything
It's only words
And words don't bleed
They can hurt you if you hold them in, so
Tell me Everything
Blake Shelton
He wouldn't fail this time. His plan would be flawless, executed perfectly and with the desired result.
He wouldn't under-estimate any of them. And now he knew all the players in the game; little brother Jack had come to play as well.
Dean sat in the chair, his eyes staring blankly at the wall ahead of him.
He'd make her pay this time, and if he were very careful, her last moments would be filed with more mental pain than she could ever imagine.
A smile curled his lips slightly. Oh he'd give anything to see that look on her face, just before death called on her, just as she realised who had killed her.
"What'll it be Sir?" came a voice from beside him, breaking him out of his thoughts. He felt a wave of anger go through him at the interruption. He schooled his thoughts and face before looking up at the waiter.
"Just your special of the day and a double Bell's."
The waiter nodded and moved away back to the bar to give the order in.
Dean spread his hands out on the table in front of him.
They looked every inch what they were supposed to; hands of an eighty year old man.
His body was bent with age and his hair was grey and long, his face wrinkled and sagged, even his eyes were dimmed with age. There wasn't a single thing about his appearance that could give him away. He was here, in Hogsmede, testing out his disguise.
He knew there were ministry agents there, looking for him, even looking for someone who was a stranger.
They wouldn't be looking for one of Hogsmede own people. Old Man Johnson.
Dean had chosen carefully, Old Man Johnson was a semi-recluse, only coming here for a weekly meal. He'd done his homework well. He knew exactly what the old man asked for each week, knew where he sat. And he kept to those things.
He hadn't even been given a second look after the bartender had jerked his thumb in his direction and told the men who he was.
A hint of a smile curled his limp lips before he squashed it.
The real Old Man Johnson, now lay tied to his bed, under heavy spells as Dean used Polyjuice potion to project the correct image.
The old man would have to die. Dean couldn't use this body to get into Hogwarts and he couldn't chance 'Old Man Johnson' talking.
YOU ARE READING
A one time thing {Severus Snape}
FanfictionShe looked at the empty seat Snape had been sitting in and repressed a sigh. Meg had heard a lot about Professor Snape. His reputation was well known; cold, calculating, aloof. They certainly fitted the man well. Meg was glad that he hadn't been t...
