Hooray for short filler chapters!
That's all I have to say today. Enjoy!
Chapter 7 – Letters
A few nights later, everyone was gathered in the Weasley's living room. George was flicking his wand around, conjuring rings of colourful smoke and little, chromatic birds zooming through them like circus birds. All the while, Draco was watching with child-like wonder at the display. It had been a long time since he'd last seen magic used purely for entertainment.
A strident, yet restrained and polite knock resounded at the door. Ginny quickly made her way to open it, and returned with a tall, well-muscled young man of about twenty in tow. He had long, messy brown hair tied back in a ponytail, and mismatched eyes; one brown, the other blue. Draco tensed at the sight of him. Silvertongue.
"Hello, Lucien," Mr Weasley greeted warmly, striding up to shake Lucien Silvertongue's hand. "How is everything going for you?"
"Very well, Mr Weasley, but I'm afraid I can't stay long," Lucien explained calmly. "It is almost nightfall and I should honestly be back home by now, but Miss McGonagall said that I was to deliver these letters to you before I do so. Speaking of travel, may I please use your fireplace? Disapparation has never been a favourite method of transportation and I don't wish to risk flying on a broom right now."
"It's fine, go right ahead. And the letters?"
"Oh, yes! Now where did I put them..? Urgh, of all nights, this is the one where I need to lose my way around my own pockets? Come on!"
After several minutes of frustrated rummaging in his pockets, Lucien produced a small bundle of letters and handed them to Mr Weasley. With a few brief words of farewell, he marched past Draco, shooting him a contemptuous glare that more or less made the wolf man shrivel up inside. Upon instinct, he lowered his eyes to avoid the other man's gaze, and only looked up when he heard the crackle of flames.
When Lucien was gone, Mr Weasley handed out the letters that the young man had delivered. Surprisingly enough, one of them was addressed to Draco, his name written in the familiar, scratchy handwriting of Professor McGonagall.
What's this supposed to be?
This is the last chapter I have up. I'll start the next one up when I feel the motivation. In the meantime, I'll probably be drawing a lot, particularly on the 25th.
Happy Christmas!
