ALL NOVEL Chapter 435: Oi! You Got a Loicence For That?
"Oi!" a man's deep voice rang out, shattering the stillness of the night. "You there!"
Oleandra glanced up at her interlocutor— it was just a neighbourhood bobby on the beat. Twice now he had driven past her bench, but she hadn't registered his presence— too focused staking out Amelia Bones's house down the street to notice a Muggle.
"What do you want?" Oleandra asked tersely, keeping her eye on the Bones's family home.
"What do I want? That's no way to speak to an officer of the law, young lady," the moustachioed police officer chided her, as he cut the engine and stepped out of his patrol car. "I've been receiving reports of oddly dressed strangers hanging around the area from the locals all week."
Oleandra stared back at the bobby and tilted her head slightly; as if to say, 'so what?'
"London's not safe, these days," the bobby sighed. "Especially not for teenage girls sitting on benches in the middle of the night."
The policeman shifted uncomfortably on the spot, and Oleandra's eyes flew to the billy club on his hip.
"Listen, why don't I take you back to the station?" he proposed, noticing Oleandra's wary gaze. "It'll be more comfortable— We can discuss whichever problems you might be facing over a cup of cocoa."
A sort of coughing laugh escaped Oleandra's lungs— as if she could talk about her problems with this random Muggle. Most likely, this policeman believed she had run away from home…
"I'd rather stay here," said Oleandra stubbornly. "Now, I'm very busy, so if you wouldn't mind..."
"Actually, I do mind," the bobby fired back. "Due to recent events, a curfew's been put into place for under-sixteens…"
It was a few minutes past midnight, which meant that it was already the 30th of June. It was already Oleandra's and Daphne's birthday, but technically, they wouldn't be turning sixteen until exactly twenty hours from now.
Even so, Oleandra did not have any Muggle identification papers on her to prove her age, and neither did she wish to discuss birthday semantics with this nosey bobby while she was waiting for the Dark Lord to show up on Amelia Bones's doorstep.
And speaking of which…
Oleandra abruptly stood up, startling the bobby. Her Mystic Eyes activated on their own, as a series of multicoloured lights popped into existence at the other end of the street— the Death Eaters were here, and she needed to ditch this policeman before he got himself needlessly hurt!
"Oi!" the bobby cried out, as Oleandra suddenly turned tail, vaulted over a bench, and bolted into a dark alley. "Come back here— we weren't done talking, young lady!"
…
The masked Death Eaters turned as one upon hearing the policeman's loud voice; they watched as the Muggle took off in pursuit of someone, before nodding to each other. One of them needed to go silence the Muggle, before he realized they had come here to murder someone…
…
Meanwhile, the bobby had come face to face with a wall. How could he have possibly run into a dead end, while still losing sight of the teenage girl he had been chasing? He reached for his electric torch and turned it on, before casting its bright beam around as he searched his surroundings for the missing girl— and that's when he heard a sort of scrabbling sound originating from somewhere above his head. He glanced upwards, only to drop his torch in fright. Upon hitting the ground, the torch spun around in circles, its light sputtering out.
There was a dark figure crouched on the roof of a detached Victorian house, staring back at him with golden eyes that gleamed in the dark like a cat's…
The bobby scrambled to pick up his torch from the ground to shine a light onto the eaves, but by the time he had got his torch working again, it was too late— the mysterious figure had disappeared.
Had that figure belonged to the girl? But that couldn't be— to reach the roof, she must have somehow flown or jumped twenty feet into the air…
A bright flash of red light suddenly and briefly illuminated the dark alley.
Spooked, the bobby spun around, his torchlight slicing through the darkness. He nervously swept his torch's beam from side to side, searching for the red light's origin, until he spotted a large man sprawled on the ground in the middle of the alley…
"Control, this is PC Dorris," the bobby spoke nervously into his portable radio. "Something strange is going on in my area— I'll need backup as soon as possible— and send an ambulance! Over."
The police constable hurried to the unconscious man's side to take his pulse, slightly taken aback by the man's strange choice of attire— full-body length black robes, and an intricately carved silver mask covering his face…
"I think I might have found the bloke that the locals have been pestering the station about…" he muttered to himself, as he unmasked the man to take his pulse. "…What's this, then…?"
A thin cylindrical stick rolled out of the man's hand and clattered onto the cobblestone pavement.
The bobby curiously picked up the stick, but he was soon forced to let go of the mysterious item; it discharged what he could only describe as an electric shock, before emitting a plume of angry-looking red sparks from its tip…
"Ruddy thing bit me!" the flustered bobby hissed.
He reached into his back pocket for his gloves and slipped them on, before gingerly picking up the thin stick of burnished wood. Having already expended all of its residual magical charge, the wand failed to shock the bobby a second time.
…
Meanwhile, unaware that the moustachioed policeman had just radioed the Met for backup, which was about to grow into an enormous headache for everyone involved, Oleandra was running across a row of Victorian houses' rooftops, marvelling at how perfectly her body obeyed her commands.
Was this what Astoria felt when she ran with the wind? She was strong and fast— the feeling was exhilarating! If it hadn't been for the Death Eaters standing guard in front of Amelia Bones's house, Oleandra would have whooped for joy!