𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐎𝐮𝐭 {𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲}

| 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐋𝐄 | 𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯

We had done it at just the right time, too - at the cusp of evening when people were just waiting for the hour to be up so they could go home. The place was still be busy, but would empty out quickly within the next hour.

The lift jerked to a halt. Five other officials stepped on, driving me and Lorcan to the back. I held my breath, feeling my back press up against him and his soft exhales in my hair.

The lift lurched once more, and with a loud jolt, we were thrown sideways. I struggled to keep my footing as we were carried back and forth, sideways and up. Lorcan's arm snaked around my waist, supporting me in place, the muscles under his jacket flexing at every erratic jerk. My cheeks scorched at the sensation.

I stood frozen for what felt like forever until at last, a calm female voice announced our arrival at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

Lorcan began to walk. Calmly, he had reminded me. Calmly and slowly. I followed closely by his side, allowing him to hold my hand. To my relief, no one paid attention to us. It was a Friday, and they were desperately finishing the last of their tasks, their heads dipped down behind the cubicles.

The bathrooms were not too far from the lifts, and very spacious, with luxurious green marble sinks and ornate gold taps. And so, locking myself in the furthest one, I sat down on the cold seat and waited.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

Contrary to my expectations, the next hour passed surprisingly quickly, and it wasn't long before Lorcan came knocking on the door.

The office had completely emptied out. We dashed pass the desks, deeper and deeper into the furthest corner of the floor before finally stopping before a giant red door. Gold lettering loudly proclaimed that this was the office of the Head of Department.

I stood on lookout nervously while Lorcan dove about the desk, shuffling through papers and pulling open drawers. "Please hurry up," I begged, gripping the doorframe with my damp palms as I stared out at the dozens of empty desks.

More shuffling and the sound of closing drawers, until finally he picked out a thin black file. "Found it!" he exclaimed, and I fiercely shushed him. "It's like you want us to be caught or something!" But he did not hear me. His eyes scanned the file, growing wider and wider.

"Well?" I demanded impatiently.

"It's just as I said. They closed her case." He seemed finish, but his expression told me otherwise. There was an 'and', though he remained silent, and I waited.

"Susan, does 'S.C.' or 'L.M.' mean anything to you?"

I froze at the sound of my name, which suddenly sounded strange on his tongue. I wanted to say 'no', that they did not mean anything to me, but yet, I held back. There was something familiar about 'L.M.', though I could not put my finger on it. "Why?" I asked instead.