Ride Like A Witch

close your eyes and fall asleep, pray to god for no bad dreams

The Hook had released their new comeback album and Helley had been hearing it everywhere non-stop. The radio, the shops, her own apartment where Izzy would not stop playing it for five seconds. Helley already knew all the words to every song on the album and while yes, she was a fan of their work, she wasn't some kind of super fan. She was the sort that could sit around and casually listen to it and know the words to the singles, not the whole freaking album. What ended up even worse than earing it everywhere she went was when she was alone in her room and she would stating humming it while she read her book. It had seeped into her subconscious.

The only place Helley could think to get away from it all was a rough and ready little dive on the outskirts of London. It was tucked away in a little magical alley that not many made their way to, and those that did weren't always the sort you wanted to be associated with. The Blood Riders were a local broom gang who happened to call The Red Wyvern their base and Helley got on with most of the people in the gang. She turned a blind eye to what they got up to - which wasn't really her division anyway, more the low level hit-wizard shit - and they turned a blind eye when she was jamming a dagger through someone's hand in a punch up. It wasn't a welcoming place but it was practically a second home to Helley, well third, her work was her second home.

Five drinks later, one punch up, one snog with a whiskery bloke that tasted like rum and cigarettes, and Helley was out the door with a broom in hand. She had no idea who it belonged to but she was going to take it. She'd send it back tomorrow but that would leave one pissed off broomie in the pub tonight. She didn't care. She mounted the broom and kicked off, her hand slipping on the broom a bit. It shook a little but she managed to get it flying straight and she shot off through the sky. Muggles were oblivious, they never noticed people out flying over London. Their eyes were always firmly on the problems in front of them, not above.

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