#(logan001)

who: Logan Buchanan ( @xavecamour )

Oliver was truly, utterly, undeniably - a complete idiot. 

“Wear a disguise”, his brothers had said, “you’re going to a very public place and you are going to be bombarded the minute someone recognises you.”

“No,” Oliver had said, idiot that he is, “I’ll take the risk, and, besides, I love meeting our fans.” 

“Change your outfit, at the very least,” his older brother had suggested, “Something less...flashy, would be good.”

Oliver hadn’t listened, naturally. And now he wished he had.

Fans are great, they really are - until said fans won’t leave you alone long enough to step into a single store. Oliver had been surrounded by a gaggle of teenage girls the second he’d stepped foot in Diagon Alley, and spent an hour signing autographs and smiling for cameras that had shown up from god alone knows where.

He’d just managed to slip away after, upon having a stroke of genius, he yelled “is that Lorenzo de Rose?!” and pointed in some vague direction. This diverted the attention of his fans long enough for him to turn and run. 

He bolted into the nearest side alley - and almost immediately, collided bodily with another person. He let out a soft oof, and found himself clutching the arms of the man he’d run into to avoid falling over. They were nice arms, firm. His fingers itched with the urge to squeeze the muscles beneath his palms. 

“Sorry,” he said breathlessly, “I was -” 

The words got caught in his throat when he looked up and met the gaze of possibly the most handsome man he’d ever seen. 

“Uh,” he said, stupidly.

Everything felt so familiar, yet so foreign to him.  He remembered good days here, but everything just reminded me of what had been done to this world, to him. He didn’t feel like himself for the longest time now. He had signed to be left alone , and he was not in the business of being a hero so he didn’t mind that much, maybe it was a bit naive of him. He came back to check in with Jean , she asked him to, and he was left to wander afterwards. That’s when a name tag on a door caught his attention and he stayed at the doorframe.  “I remember the time you swore to not be a teacher here... all it took was a war with aliens. ”

preferring to stay far from the cacophonies of the three broomsticks, zonko's and honeydukes– all of which found themselves heaving with students and staff by the early afternoon, thanks to it being the year's first visit to the village –cohen took it upon himself to wander off from his usual crowd. it's not that he didn't like being around large gangs of people, nor that the excitement had passed him by. his mood was buoyant. simply, he had rather tired of visiting the same places. from one cobbled turn to the next, he felt the autumn chill bite at his hands and began to warm them up with his breath. soon the high winds would come. followed by heavy rains, maybe hail and definitely some snow. cohen hoped the influx of new students had been warned about the highlands' turbulent northern weather. although, he had to admit, it would be hilarious if they hadn't. thoroughly amused by his own thoughts, cohen may have looked somewhat mad as he stepped up to the window display of dervish and banges grinning. he admired the peculiarly pearlescent broom, floating proudly among other shiny bits and bobs. "beautiful, isn't it?" he commented to the tall lad already stood in front of the shop.

@logan-davenport