OWL: To Lucius Malfoy
Characters: Rabastan Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy
Location: Respective locations.
Date: 3rd September, 1999.
Status/Warning: Private/mild swearing.
Summary: Somehow Rabastan has found himself rather perplexed.
Completion: Incomplete
Rabastan had been perfectly happy lazing at the corner of Knockturn Alley until mention of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement found his ears. Choking on his own cigarette smoke, he strode down the alley and Apparated without hesitation. The short walk to his house was spent muttering to himself, ignoring the wary glances of his ‘neighbours’ who seemed to think him half-mad or a drunkard.
Neither was far off the mark.
The moment he was through the door, he reached for the nearest bottle of wine, uncorking it between his knees while using his one free hand to rifle through the desk. Parchment, quill, ink… wand? A quick pat down of his suit jacket located it and he sat down, whistling for his owl. Several mouthfuls of wine later and Rabastan was leaning over the parchment, quill ready in hand.
What to write? He wasn’t even sure how he felt about this, other than his knee-jerk ‘this is not quite right’ reaction. Even then, he wasn’t entirely sure why that was his reaction. Sitting back, he took another swig from the bottle and shrugged to himself. He put quill to paper and wrote the first thing that came to mind.
Tell me Hopkirk isn’t seriously Head of MLE.
And don’t be a sarcastic git about it.
Blowing on the ink to dry it as quickly as possible - not he thought Lucius would even consider writing back until it was convenient for him - Rabastan signalled for the owl. Having proofed the letter against anyone who didn’t carry the Mark, he set about transfiguring the bird’s feathers while carefully folding the parchment with the other hand.
“Here,” he thrust it at her as he opened the window, “To Lucius.”
Location: Respective locations.
Date: 3rd September, 1999.
Status/Warning: Private/mild swearing.
Summary: Somehow Rabastan has found himself rather perplexed.
Completion: Incomplete
Rabastan had been perfectly happy lazing at the corner of Knockturn Alley until mention of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement found his ears. Choking on his own cigarette smoke, he strode down the alley and Apparated without hesitation. The short walk to his house was spent muttering to himself, ignoring the wary glances of his ‘neighbours’ who seemed to think him half-mad or a drunkard.
Neither was far off the mark.
The moment he was through the door, he reached for the nearest bottle of wine, uncorking it between his knees while using his one free hand to rifle through the desk. Parchment, quill, ink… wand? A quick pat down of his suit jacket located it and he sat down, whistling for his owl. Several mouthfuls of wine later and Rabastan was leaning over the parchment, quill ready in hand.
What to write? He wasn’t even sure how he felt about this, other than his knee-jerk ‘this is not quite right’ reaction. Even then, he wasn’t entirely sure why that was his reaction. Sitting back, he took another swig from the bottle and shrugged to himself. He put quill to paper and wrote the first thing that came to mind.
Tell me Hopkirk isn’t seriously Head of MLE.
And don’t be a sarcastic git about it.
Blowing on the ink to dry it as quickly as possible - not he thought Lucius would even consider writing back until it was convenient for him - Rabastan signalled for the owl. Having proofed the letter against anyone who didn’t carry the Mark, he set about transfiguring the bird’s feathers while carefully folding the parchment with the other hand.
“Here,” he thrust it at her as he opened the window, “To Lucius.”