The Long Peace

The Beilschmidt Brothers

Chapter 1- The Beilschmidt Brothers

The cheery sound of the doorbell chimed throughout the house.

The two Beilschmidt twins, as was their habit, both rushed to answer it. Usually, it was Gilbert, the more long-legged and athletic of the two, who reached it first. Other times, it was Otto Ludwig, by sheer virtue of a sharp ear and general proximity to the door.

Imagine their surprise as their (abysmally slow) eldest brother beat them to it.

Roderich, the eldest of the three brothers, regarded the man at the door with a mask of passive disinterest, (which, realistically, was how he regarded everything). In this case though, there really was much to be regarded, he determined, trying not to gawk at the man's...somewhat bizarre choice in clothing. (His tie was inside out? Did he even know how to tie a tie?)

The man shifted awkwardly on the doorstep, hefting a rather large briefcase threatening to pull him over the edge of the doorway and into the roses below. (Pinstripe and tweed? Really?) He muttered fervently to himself, pulling papers out of every conceivable pocket, (and then some...who even had that many pockets?) eventually pulling out a notecard covered in scribbles, as he grinned in satisfaction.

(And that didn't even address the fact that he was holding a slightly dazed, fully grown, owl underneath his left arm.)

"Can I help you...?" Roderich asked, skeptically.

"I do believe you've dropped this..." the man stammered, holding the owl out for Roderich to see.

Otto and Gilbert, from the window, covertly watched the exchange: eyes wide as they glanced at everything--from the owl, to the briefcase (was it shaking?), to the various pockets that seemed to appear and vanish, seemingly at will.

"Do we know you?" Roderich asked, raising an (immaculately groomed) eyebrow.

"Uh..." the man said, his eyes glazing over. His arms fell to his sides, like he wasn't quite sure what to do.

The gears in his head, Roderich decided, were obviously having a slow day.

"Ah, right!"

The man removed his pointed black hat (No comment.) and gave a sweeping bow. "My name is Jarvis Laurence Talbot, representative of the Ministry of Magic," he said, replacing his hat.

Roderich narrowed his eyes. (Magic? Perhaps he had misheard...) It all seemed very rehearsed. Like a joke that the twins'd play.

"The Ministry of Magic." Roderich repeated flatly. Mr. Talbot nodded excitedly, apparently thrilled to be understood.

"Yes, sir! Are you the father of..." he began, referencing his heavily notated flashcard, squinting. "...Otto Ludwig von...Beilschmidt and Gilbert Maria von Beilschmidt?"

"I am their legal guardian, yes."

"Oh, goodie!" Talbot exclaimed, hurriedly shoving the cue-card back into one of the many tweed pockets. "Ah...Might I assume you have received a certain owl-delivered letter, or..." He looked down at the owl (now dozing) haphazardly cradled under his arm. He let out a small "oh!" of surprise, removing a pair of envelopes loosely clamped in its beak.

"There we are!" Mr. Talbot proclaimed, handing the twin envelopes to Roderich with a flourish. "Two acceptance letters into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

Roderich regarded him a moment longer, the expression of confused disgust finally manifesting itself in his expression.

"I know of no applications to a 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry'," he replied coldly. "Frankly, the entire thing sounds made up. I don't appreciate being lied to. Thank you for being a perfect waste of a Saturday morning."