Leviathan {Book #2}

Chapter 1

"You're sure you've got everything?" Seamus asked over the breakfast table while his son lugged his large trunk down the raggedy stairs.

"Yeah, dad, I'm sure--uh oh! I forgot something!" Cillian yelled as he dropped his trunk and ran back up the staircase, pounding the overhead floor so that Seamus could roll his eyes as the dust from the ceiling fell into his cup of morning tea.

Within seconds his son reappeared with a bundle of letters his arms.

"Are you quite sure you'll be needing all those letters?" Seamus asked just before taking a sip of tea.

"Dad, they're from my friends! I . . . want to keep them as . . . memories," Cillian piped back as he stuffed the papers into his already filled-to-the-brim trunk. It was true, he did want to keep them, not just for keepsakes but also for the mission that they talked about.

"Alright, alright," his father puffed.

Cillian glanced at the kitchen table, particularly the plate caked with eggs, toast, and mash, with a small glass of orange juice on the side. Cillian's stomach groaned loudly in protest of his late start and lack of food.

He scrambled over to the pate, picked up his fork, and started piling food into his mouth. Seamus watched dumbfounded whilst sipping his tea as his son scarfed down half the serving in under a minute.

"Slow down son!" He exclaimed. "You're goin' to be sick!"

Cillian looked up, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and started chewing slower.

"There, that's better."

He swallowed a large bite and downed it greedily with orange juice.

After finishing his breakfast, Cillian resumed his frantic gathering of luggage. When he, his father, luggage trunk, owl cage, and backpack were all finally secured in the car outside the house, Cillian's face paled as he jumped out, raced inside and out again with his broomstick.

"Sorry, dad!" He panted and while his father rolled his eyes, turned the keys, and sped away toward the train station.

Cillian and his father lived in a small, humble, and slightly run down townhouse on the outskirts of London, in which Cillian had lived the majority of his life, which made leaving it to go to his other home (Hogwarts) give him a small pang in his chest whenever it was out of his sights.

The two drove with little conversation passing between them, and while Cillian finished the last of his homework he had been assigned before the last term ended, Seamus listened to the wizarding radio stations.

"The Ministry of Magic," a male wizard announcer said on the radio, "has been doing better than it has in the past century, thanks to the past ten years of its newest Minister of Magic, Arthur Weasley, who has past varying wizarding laws, almost all of which have proved successful. The most recent being the release of the ban on dragon owning, given that the caretakers go through a trial test to be given a license, and the dragons may not be over a certain weight—but I've spoken a bit too much on this..." The announcer cleared his throat.

"In other news, there has been a ban on 'Magical Creature Alchemy'. For those of you listening who don't know, this is the study, research, and experimental use of magical creatures, usually the breeding of wizard-made species. Continuing on, after the escape of a newly developed creature has officials working over-time to catch this potentially dangerous creature. Other details are unknown, such as, who is responsible for the creation and when this occurred, but the Ministry has placed a ban on this new use of creatures."

Seamus turned the radio off, making Cillian look up in surprise.

"Don't you work for the ministry, dad?" Cillian asked his father.