The detestable face of Alora Hemming had been out of Finn's sight for about a decade now. But curse his excellent memory and the charm of quick thinking — and totally not his unhealthy fixation over anyone with hair colour remotely close to red — that he was able to recognise her. It only took a systole and diastole for his brain to register the midget's identity.
In that moment, Finn really considered himself lucky. Life does not provide opportunities as consistently as it came to him. Or maybe he was just awfully unlucky and Alora Hemming was indeed, a witch, casting spells with destiny to ruin his peace of mind.
