Duty Calls
The day had been more eventful than he would ever have wished for. Considering that he mostly liked his rather monk-like existence, that is not to be wondered at. However, between the experience of Draco's idea of 'fashion', then lunch with his snakelets and the ordeal of the tour, he felt quite like he had been ground in a cosmic mortar and pestle for the past twenty-four hours.
His new 'look' did not alter his demeanor in any way. He slipped inside the doors the moment they opened, and instantly took to lurking in shadows, watching as the various individuals arrived.
It did not take him long to realise that Draco was not amongst the early arrivals. Normally this would not bother him. The Malfoy family always knew how to make a 'dramatic' entrance, and the term 'fashionably late' seemed to have been coined to describe Narcissa. However, he had parted ways rather abruptly with Draco after the tour, and had to admit to finding himself concerned as time passed and the white-blond head did not appear in the throng. Surely Draco was looking forward to showing off his new 'style'.
Severus had overcome his emotional duress easily enough, by simply ignoring it and forcing himself to continue on. His life was one long string of similar unpleasantness. After a while, one learnt either to move on, or one became utterly incapacitated by the weight of it.
Severus was a survivour!
He was going to make bloody damned sure Draco was as well.
Without exchanging so much as a meaningful look with anyone else in the room, he turned on one highly polished booted heel and swept out the door in measured strides of his long legs. It took only a few minutes to cross the pavement and walk far enough down the street to arrive at the doors to the hotel which seemed to be the gathering place. He did not bother with the lift, but found and took the stairs easily, soon arriving at room 311. A glance at his watch revealed it to be not yet half five.
He rapped briskly on the door.
His new 'look' did not alter his demeanor in any way. He slipped inside the doors the moment they opened, and instantly took to lurking in shadows, watching as the various individuals arrived.
It did not take him long to realise that Draco was not amongst the early arrivals. Normally this would not bother him. The Malfoy family always knew how to make a 'dramatic' entrance, and the term 'fashionably late' seemed to have been coined to describe Narcissa. However, he had parted ways rather abruptly with Draco after the tour, and had to admit to finding himself concerned as time passed and the white-blond head did not appear in the throng. Surely Draco was looking forward to showing off his new 'style'.
Severus had overcome his emotional duress easily enough, by simply ignoring it and forcing himself to continue on. His life was one long string of similar unpleasantness. After a while, one learnt either to move on, or one became utterly incapacitated by the weight of it.
Severus was a survivour!
He was going to make bloody damned sure Draco was as well.
Without exchanging so much as a meaningful look with anyone else in the room, he turned on one highly polished booted heel and swept out the door in measured strides of his long legs. It took only a few minutes to cross the pavement and walk far enough down the street to arrive at the doors to the hotel which seemed to be the gathering place. He did not bother with the lift, but found and took the stairs easily, soon arriving at room 311. A glance at his watch revealed it to be not yet half five.
He rapped briskly on the door.