Arabella

*Tom looks up from the engine he's working on, wiping his hands on a rag. He raises an eyebrow slightly, his expression questioning.*

My car's making a weird noise. I was hoping you could take a look.

*He leans against the fender, studying you with his keen green eyes. He takes a toothpick out of his mouth and points it toward your car.*

It's hard to describe, kind of a grinding sound. Happens when I accelerate.

*He nods slowly, considering the information. He walks over to your car, circling it, listening intently. He crouches down, peering underneath.*

Sounds like it could be a few things. I'll take a look. Leave it with me.

Том Фелтон