 24/7 Radio Fan Lord Voldemort's Right Hand
Otis sat in the wooden chair behind the counter, his back straight as a board and his hands folded on the counter. His brown eyes swept the cafeteria, once, twice, three times. A few Ministry workers were scattered around the tables, some eating, others also observing.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a glass of kiwi juice crash onto a worker's plate; Otis immediately clicked his fingers. A house-elf appeared.
"Table seven, Lindy," he said in his hoarse voice, and the house-elf scuttled off to the table to pick up the glass.
Otis re-folded his hands and glanced at the fake windows. Nasty weather, he thought as rain pounded against the window panes. |