Silver and Gold
Percival grimaced at the mirror. It felt as if in no time at all he'd aged from the spritely, thirty year old man he'd been before to the over forty year old middle-aged man he'd become. Flecks of silver ran through his dark hair and the corners of his eyes were creased, ominous signs of his age.
He stepped back and smoothed down the lapels of his jacket. He still looked to be as smartly dressed as always. His suit was navy, double breasted, with black fastenings. His cufflinks were made from silver, sculpted in the likeness of a Wampus in a nod to both his Ilvermorny House and his date's interest in magical creatures. Percival had opted to forgo a tie, as the date was largely informal; they were meeting in a speakeasy.
"Looking good," someone drawled from behind him. Percival stiffened, but recognised the voice as Queenie, Goldstein's younger sister. He fought the instinctive action of bringing down his Occlumency barriers — Queenie's ability was such that she'd likely already heard all that she could from his mind.
"Oh, I don't snoop, honey," Queenie said.
Percival bit back a snort and instead focused on attempting to smooth down his hair. He couldn't do anything about the grey at his temple, but hopefully it would go unnoticed.
"I think you look distinguished." Queenie drew her wand and tapped his skull. His hair immediately fell into order. Queenie's golden curls were always impeccable, so he wasn't surprised.
"Thank you," Percival said. He eyed his jawline critically. Perhaps he should have shaved? Too late now.
There was a knock on his office door. He turned to stare in silent panic at Queenie, who just smiled back at him.
"I think I'll make myself scarce now," she said. She waltzed out of his office, letting Newt enter before she shutting the door behind her.
"Good evening," Percival said, before biting back a wince at the formality of his statement.
Newt looked to be very handsome, even in his usual petrol blue jacket. He was wearing a tie, Percival noted to his disgruntlement, and had exchanged his khaki waistcoat for a silver and black number that fitted him snugly.
"Hello, Percival," Newt said. "How are you? Sorry if I'm a little late, I got caught up feeding the occamies."
Now that Percival knew to look for it, there was a smudge of dirt on Newt's cheek and grass stains on his jacket. He took a breath and smiled, pushing his worries to the back of his mind.
"You're not late, no need to worry." He stepped forward. "I'm looking forward to this evening."
"Me too!" Newt exclaimed, then blushed pink. "My last experience at the Blind Pig was… dubious, so to speak."
If Percival was being frank with himself, he wouldn't have chosen a speakeasy which many of the wizarding community he'd previously arrested would solicit. But Newt had spoken of the bar fondly and he doubted they'd see much trouble on a Monday evening.
"Shall we?" Percival asked. He extended an arm for Newt to grasp for Apparition.
"Yes, please," Newt said. He stepped closer, beaming. "Our adventure awaits."
Word Count: 527
Speed Drabble Prompt: Silver [Medium - Minimum Word Count: 500 ]
Hard Pinata: Slash [Word Count 527]
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Bex's Basement 10. Write about someone being scared of something, but doing it anyway
Insane House Challenge 535. Pretending to not be afraid
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