Chapter Two: Jealousy and Expectancy
Drachmar hauled himself off the chair, unsteady on his feet. "Madam Rosmerta! Can we have two Gillywaters, please?" It was the most heavenly beautiful sound he had ever heard in his short life. He mustered all his strength to turn his head and behold the divine being that he must have heard speak. And there she stood; a clear mist upon the still wind, her breath a deafening whisper, her eyes as bright as two drops of the purest water from the Fountain of Fair Fortune suspended in darkness, an invisible reflection. Her hair rippled as though caught in a sudden breeze with more colour than autumn itself, her ruby red lips, an awesome contrast to her pale white skin. The soft brown of her eyes filled him with a glowing warmth he could not explain. The gorgeous lady spoke, "Honey, what's wrong?" but she spoke not to Drachmar, but another man, a man sat next to her, a man with an arm around her shoulders. Drachmar felt as though a shard of ice had pierced his heart, he was filled with hatred of this man, oh how he despised him! This man had EVERYTHING! An astoundingly pretty partner, her love and her fabulous body, what more could a man want? Why should this man get all this? Drachmar felt cheated, he had worked all his life and he didn't even get anything worthy out of it! And this man was probably a layabout squib who got everything handed to him on a plate! He downed the last of his butterbeer with a lonesome sigh and heaved himself out of The Three Broomsticks.