Andromeda Black (dromedablack) wrote in __incendio,
Andromeda Black
dromedablack
__incendio

  • Mood:

This morning's paper's ink stains my fingers

 Who: Ted and Andromeda
What: The inevitable letter from Cygnus and Druella Black


"I say, you there, lad. You with the wrinkled trousers."

The cool, crisp voice came from a large partrait of an elegant wizard, vestments ninety years out of fashion. He sported tremendously imposing muttonchops and a monocle; his steely grey moustache was immaculately curled. He looked down upon Ted not from mere necessity due to his having been placed high on the wall, but with that certain arrogance particular to pure-bloods. The polished brass nameplate affixed to the bottom of his frame read "Adrastos Greengrass - 1803-1863". Although he had been positioned in a rather lonely branch of the fifth floor corridors, he missed nothing; the dark eyes inspecting Ted were keen, sharp,  through the faint crackle of aged oil paint.

"You're the Head Boy, are you not? Ah, yes, I see your badge there. That wants polishing," he added, not snidely, but with a matter-of-fact off-handedness.
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