dinner parties | scorbus

CH10: god complex

CH10: god complex (3536 WORDS)

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'Hey, Scorpius!

I'd like to apologise, yet another time, for being incredibly late the other night. I have accepted that you don't want me to apologise profusely—well, you can't shut me up this time. I am sorry, I'll let you know in advance next time. We'll have to catch up soon, hopefully before next Friday. I hate going a week without seeing you, I always have too much to tell you. I promise that I'll bring all of my star charts when I see you — if I don't have to escape my bedroom via the tree, like last time.

Now, I recall that you promised to show me around the grounds of your castle. Are you going to stick to that? I'm very intrigued — primarily because I saw a photograph in the paper the other day. It looks completely magnificent over there. I wish our home had that much character, but it doesn't. The article made me laugh quite a bit too, though I had to disguise them as coughs. I believe my mother found herself quite humoured too.

I finally broke — I know that I promised to wait as long as I could, and I really tried — but I have my television back now! I already feel as if I've become rather braindead once again due to the number of films that I've watched. I'd ask if you have suggestions, but I'd hardly want to offend you by assuming you watch movies. Let me just say, there is a reason that you are passing your school with flying colours and I am failing miserably.

How's your father, by the way? Mum was asking me whilst I was reading in her office, and it slipped my mind to ask you last night. She actually quite likes you — and she hasn't told dad yet that we're buddies. Anyway, I hope he (and you) are well!

(I am the) Best,
-- A.S.P. !!'

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Albus thanked the postman on Monday morning when he received his letter. He presumed it to be a response to the one that he sent on Friday. The silver envelope glittered under the chandelier as he stowed it into his pocket, as he always did. As he leant forward to spoon cereal into his mouth, he cast a glance at his mother. The woman, too, offered her thanks to the mail carrier as he handed her an identical silver slip.

"Who's that from?" He asked, sitting up straighter in his seat. The milk splashed back into the bowl as he tipped his spoon carelessly, leaning over.

James and Lily noticed his alarm, as well as the matching letters, and shot one another smirks. Albus pretended that he didn't notice as they placed their cutlery down upon the table. Lily placed her chin upon her hands as she leaned in. James sat up taller and attempted to lean over to see the name written upon the back.

Albus smiled slightly. James was a novice to Scorpius' talent at writing slick letters, he didn't know that each envelope lacked the address of the sender.

Albus cast a glimpse to his father's empty chair, thankful that he could avoid questioning. Harry had woken up feeling unwell, as his mother had conveyed. He likely wouldn't be prying for a day or two.

"I'm not quite sure, honey, there isn't a return address. I thought you'd have known that."

"Yeah," Albus said hollowly, spinning his cereal before spooning some into his mouth. "I suppose I should've."

"Who is it from?" Lily asked, feigning curiosity. "Which friend of Albus' would send you letters?"

"Lilias. One day, your prying will get you into trouble. Curiosity killed the cat. Eat your breakfast." Ginny placed her envelope on the table. Nobody dared touch it, they knew better.