RP: Introvert on the Town
Date: November 9, 2004
Character(s): Kingsley Shacklebolt, Wayne Hopkins
Location: River Place
Status: Private
Summary: Kingsley bites the bullet and goes for help.
Completion: Complete
Wayne Hopkins. 3-B River Place. Corner of River and 6th.
As Kingsley breathed in the musky smell of the river and paced in front of the building, he folded and unfolded the small, torn scrap of parchment, wondering what to do.
He'd only met Wayne Hopkins once, after all. After the final attack on Diagon Alley, which had seen him housing a refugee in his one-bedroom Muggle flat (without the knowledge of the Ministry, of course), he'd received word from Professor McGonagall that a former Hufflepuff named Wayne Hopkins could help him out.
He'd shown up late at night. An ungodly hour, in fact, as that was the best time to travel. And he'd been shocked, relieved, and immensely impressed when Wayne had opened his door and immediately set about welcoming the elderly witch and insisting that Kingsley return if he had additional refugees or needed additional help.
Well, he needed help now.
He'd also learned then that Wayne Hopkins knew people. He had his Hufflepuff hands in everything, it seemed, and he appeared to go about it in the most honourable way. It made Kingsley cringe just a bit, being the introvert that he was, but it also made him realise that this Wayne Hopkins was definitely a kindred spirit.
Still, as he paced, he couldn't help the macho part of him that refused help. Refused to go knock on that door and admit that he was nearly penniless and unemployed and knew the whereabouts of almost no one. Refused to admit that he was stuck going to someone he'd only met once for help because he couldn't even figure out how to get to half the damn restaurants in this place.
He hadn't wandered around town very much. He'd been worried about running into... people he might not want to run into.
So he kept pacing. Maybe Wayne Hopkins wasn't at home, anyway. Maybe he'd come here for nothing. Maybe Wayne had moved. He hadn't seem him in a year, after all.
Bullocks. He should just go to Socks and exchange some Muggle currency for a bowl of stew and go home.
Character(s): Kingsley Shacklebolt, Wayne Hopkins
Location: River Place
Status: Private
Summary: Kingsley bites the bullet and goes for help.
Completion: Complete
Wayne Hopkins. 3-B River Place. Corner of River and 6th.
As Kingsley breathed in the musky smell of the river and paced in front of the building, he folded and unfolded the small, torn scrap of parchment, wondering what to do.
He'd only met Wayne Hopkins once, after all. After the final attack on Diagon Alley, which had seen him housing a refugee in his one-bedroom Muggle flat (without the knowledge of the Ministry, of course), he'd received word from Professor McGonagall that a former Hufflepuff named Wayne Hopkins could help him out.
He'd shown up late at night. An ungodly hour, in fact, as that was the best time to travel. And he'd been shocked, relieved, and immensely impressed when Wayne had opened his door and immediately set about welcoming the elderly witch and insisting that Kingsley return if he had additional refugees or needed additional help.
Well, he needed help now.
He'd also learned then that Wayne Hopkins knew people. He had his Hufflepuff hands in everything, it seemed, and he appeared to go about it in the most honourable way. It made Kingsley cringe just a bit, being the introvert that he was, but it also made him realise that this Wayne Hopkins was definitely a kindred spirit.
Still, as he paced, he couldn't help the macho part of him that refused help. Refused to go knock on that door and admit that he was nearly penniless and unemployed and knew the whereabouts of almost no one. Refused to admit that he was stuck going to someone he'd only met once for help because he couldn't even figure out how to get to half the damn restaurants in this place.
He hadn't wandered around town very much. He'd been worried about running into... people he might not want to run into.
So he kept pacing. Maybe Wayne Hopkins wasn't at home, anyway. Maybe he'd come here for nothing. Maybe Wayne had moved. He hadn't seem him in a year, after all.
Bullocks. He should just go to Socks and exchange some Muggle currency for a bowl of stew and go home.