the girl who lost it all [d.m]

fifty five: usus

usus: to use, employ, take advantage of

———

DRACO heard Orion before he saw him.

The house had been eerily quiet until he'd descended the stairwell to the library but once he did, he was able to make out the sound of angry muttering and curses, the crackling of flames.

And as soon as he nudged open the door and stepped over the threshold, the smell of burning paper hit his senses, followed by Mochi's worried meows from her perch atop another bookshelf.

But Orion wasn't focused on getting her down this time. He was pacing back and forth, snatching up sheets of parchment as he passed the desk, balling them up in a fist and throwing them up into the air before he directed his wand at them and set fire to them.

Draco halted in the doorway, one hand on the knob and watched as flames enveloped the next ball of parchment, its ashes fluttering down to the carpet.

Orion didn't even turn to acknowledge his presence—just kept pacing back and forth, cursing underneath his breath, the thin scar down his face contorting with rage whenever he whipped around to send another torrent of flames at the parchment he'd thrown into the air.

Draco watched for a few moments and then ventured further in, rubbing at his jaw with one hand before he collapsed in one of the armchairs, eyeing a sheet of parchment resting on the floor by the fireplace. "Not in a good mood then."

Orion whirled to face him, his features hard. "Do you expect me to be?"

"She can take care of herself." He stifled a yawn and knocked his head back against the armchair, frowning at the slightly crumpled parchment lying abandoned by the hearth. "Is that—"

"But if it was Elara, you would've burned Paisley to the ground already."

Draco stiffened at her name. Orion's tone made it clear he wasn't in the mood for playing today.

"Is there something you'd like to take up with me?" he inquired coolly, trying to keep his temper in check. To distract himself, he reached forward and plucked the parchment off the floor, playing with the edges.

His friend let out a humourless laugh. "Yes, actually." He advanced, amber eyes dark and bent down, gripping the armrests on either side of the armchair to get into Draco's face. "Why the fuck are you not doing anything about this?"

Draco couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Orion so livid. "About what? Carolyn?"

"Magda," he hissed back, his eyes flicking between Draco's. "Why the fuck aren't you looking for her? Why are you not—"

"Not what?" Draco retorted with a raise of his eyebrow. "It took me two years to get Elara out. You think it's that easy for me to just waltz in and demand Magda be released?"