Augustus Pye is anything but conventional. (meetpye) wrote in changedrpg, @ 2011-08-23 08:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | !date: 1997 - august, augustus pye, minerva mcgonagall |
Who: Augustus Pye and Minerva McGonagall.
What: Discussing a new direction in life.
Where: The Pye Home (Cambridge).
When: 8:00pm, August 23rd, 1997.
Status: Closed.
Rating: Low.
The ice crackled in the amber liquid where it was suspended, in an ordinary un-embellished glass drawn to a bearded face where it hovered for a moment. Augustus took a sip and found it's flavor had lost it's initial appeal after only a couple. He eyed it, wondering if it was him or the brand that he'd lost interest in. Flexing his brow around the bridge of his nose and the glasses perched there, the man taut his lips, swallowed, set down the glass onto the table. As if swept up by something automatic, he leaned back over to it, lifted the glass and guided a coaster underneath.
Catherine hated it when her newlywed husband had so often failed to do this, and over time he'd ruined a perfectly good end table- which was now a nightstand in their bedroom, covered with an ornate blanket. Over the span of years, she had trained him to stick a damned coaster under his drinks. And for years, he'd done it without pause. Only now as his fingers shifted the coaster underneath, he realized that the nagging voice from so long ago was gone.
He looked down at himself, still dressed in somber blacks and greys. He'd walked Nicodemus up to bed, kissed him on the forehead even though the boy whimpered at how profoundly uncool it was even in his troubled need for sleep. It had been an exhausting week. Augustus reached around his neck and pulled off the loose wrapping scarf he had on his shoulders. Then off his head he pulled his hat- finally. He felt a moment of uncertainty and lack of control and in a shallow breath, he began to tidy little, lingering things, not allowing each thing he touched of hers to bring him down yet. He had a meeting to attend first.
As Augustus straightened and began to put things away into neat drawers, he eyed the open greenhouse door and it's window. He felt a chill and a haunting spirit. He couldn't go in there. Even the idea made pain physically wrench through his arms. That had been her place... their place. He walked over and closed the door then the window. The sweet smell of orchids and humidity didn't stop, but lingered as the man stood in the center of what had been their home for many years.
Only then did he allow questions of why in the world Professor Minerva McGonagall wanted to speak to him, and with some urgency. He had parted from Hogwarts ages ago. And he doubted this was about how he'd looked over at Willy Dermwott's exam in a moment of consuming terror at failing his first year there. He was going to drop himself back into his chair, wringing his hands to give them something to do but there was a knock at the door. Augustus rose and straightened his tie. He walked to the door, took a breath. Straightened his back. Opened the door.
"Good evening, Professor. Please come in." He stepped aside and gestured with a straight arm as a guide to the woman, his smile an academic line of curiosity and well-acted normalcy.