Fleur Delacour | [Anything Goes]

[notphlegm]

Fleur was doing what she was best at after everything had happened here: Moping. The French witch was taking the loss (or return home) of her fiancee much harder than she really should have. It meant he was safe, after all. She sat in a coffee shop, drinking her latte slowly and just staring out the window. Not crying or anything, just staring.

It

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[bestunrevealed]

A man in black passed by the window -- staggered, really. One hand on the window -- left it smeared with blood. He pushed away, not looking inside, and staggered onward.

He was unmistakably Severus Snape, and not in a good way.