Rise of the Death Eaters [3]

Chapter 67: Back Onboard

My final morning in the London house was spent racing to get myself changed, my bags brought down stairs, and grabbing the stash of cigarettes and old letters hidden under my bed and throwing them into my side bag.

My father was nowhere to be seen, a grace I didn't question as I trekked down the stairs with Oliver following like a shadow behind.

Ed was in the kitchen parlor, a newspaper opened in front of him with a cup of coffee steaming on its saucer next to his resting hand. He didn't move from his reading before grabbing another newspaper that was stashed opposite his breakfast plate and tossed it to me.

I caught it abruptly and without a word glanced at the cover. It was the edition of Le Monde from a few weeks ago and on the cover were the numerous snapshots of the differing couples from the Debutante Ball.

It didn't take long to spot Blaise and I, situated in the upright corner, looking at the camera with scrutinizing gazes.

"Shit," I muttered, rolling the paper back to get a better view of the photo.

"Mamen thought you looked regal, if that changes anything," Ed stated from the rim of us cup before taking a long sip.

"It doesn't. But thanks," I replied, dropping the paper back on the table. I slinked to the kitchen where three house elves were in the process of fixing up my plate. Damion walked in a moment later, already dressed for work, with his hair finely combed back, the scent of aftershave lingering off him.

"You ready to go?" he asked, as he came up by my side to grab an empty coffee cup off the shelf. A house elf was dishing a fresh omelet on my plate while another dashed around my legs with a pot of coffee in its hands. At the squeak it made, my brother lowered his cup and the creature filled it to the line before dropping two sugars with a subtle plop!

"Are you taking me to the station?" I asked, as I followed him back to the table. Ed only shifted his cup for the same house elf to come by to top off his coffee.

"I'm afraid not," Damion began, sitting down. He grabbed at Ed's copy of the Daily Prophet, ignoring our brother's glare as he flipped to the front page. "I have to bring this one with me to the office today," he added with a nod to Ed who passive aggressively grabbed the copy of Le Monde and snapped it open without a word. One glance at Ed's own clean shaven jaw, and office robes that rivaled Damion's attire except for the wrinkles along the collar, confirmed his words.

"Are you working for the ministry now, Ed?" I asked, gaining his limited attention.

"It seems so," he muttered bitterly over his French newspaper. Frown lines appeared over his brow like little talons. I caught Damion's eye roll before returning to his paper without another word.

Mamen made short work of getting me moving once she appeared in the kitchen in witch robes of black that made her features appear veela-esc. My brothers rose from the seats simultaneously before giving me renditions of goodbyes, with Ed giving me a weak attempt at a hug before giving my arm a squeeze, no doubt of good luck.

Damion's bear hug was bone crushing and left me breathless as he turned to scrunch Oliver behind the ears before helping me get him in his cage.

Once in the car, my mother withdrew three rolls of parchments that on second glance I realized were letters addressed to different people. The first was to Professor Snape, the second to Professor Dumbledore and the third...

"I'm not giving this to Draco."

"Yes, you will," my mother said with no fight in her voice. The case was settled but I still pushed back as the car took a sharp turn.