❝What is that song you
sing for the dead?❞
Born a sinner, Lucien Aliester King can talk to the dead. With the reappearance of Death Eaters and the approaching start of another wizarding war, Lucien is torn between venturing i...
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｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH DRACO WASN'T COMPLETELY MENDED, BUT THEY WERE TALKING AGAIN. AND LUCIEN HAD STARTED hanging with Pansy and their little crew, status quo fixed. But it just wasn't the same anymore. Draco and he didn't hang out if it was just the two of them, only when there were other people around. They talked, but it wasn't much. Lucien could swear he saw Draco the other day, and he was chatting with a Ravenclaw that he said he didn't like, and it lasted longer than any conversation he held with Lucien that week.
Still, it was better. At least he would catch Draco looking at him sometimes, and Draco had caught him staring more than he'd like to admit. Maybe it was because they didn't talk much at all, or Draco didn't think it was important, there was never a mention of the hug. Draco's arm had healed pretty quickly, it wasn't a bad burn. Still, Lucien dwelled in guilt because he knew, in the end, it was his fault.
He was glad that Snape hadn't cornered him, or called him to the Potions classroom to talk. He probably wanted to talk about the task he mentioned earlier, but with the excitement around Triwizard Tournament and the four Champions (of course, Potter had to be involved! Lucien knew it wasn't harry's doing, the rigged selection had something to do with Barty Crouch Jr., but still the boy appearing everywhere started to get on his nerves. ) must've been busy.
He laid in his bed, the room quiet due to the late hour as he stared at the ceiling. A soft knock on the door caught his attention, Lucien quickly jumping to his feet. An envelope slid under the door, stopping an inch away from his grey slippers. He opened the door to catch the person in act, but was greeted with the dark walls of the Slytherin Common Room. His first two months was wasted with friend drama, joining a cult and getting a probably fatal black-veins-involved welcome gift in return; and now his life was shifting genres. From horror to murder mystery, he reckoned.
Kneeling, he looked at the letter as if it would turn into a Boggart-like creature. He cautiously grabbed it, dusting it away and inspecting it. There was no address, no sender; and it was nerve-wrecking that the person who send him this didn't use an owl but mysteriously slid it under his door. Tearing off the lid, he latched onto the note inside.
meet me in the astronomy tower.
It didn't seem like it was Snape's doing, the man would've gone with a more upright approach. Glad his professor's involvement with this meeting was unlikely, he put his purple hoodie over his white long-sleeved shirt and swiftly changed into his black boots. Puzzled by the anonymous letter, he sneaked out of the common room.
