WHO Adrian Pucey and ? WHERE Just outside the Great Hall WHEN Saturday, September 21, just after breakfast WHAT Adrian's deepest darkest secret is potentially revealed.
It wasn't uncommon for Adrian to receive impromptu gifts from his grandmother, to the point where his house mates had become a regular audience. The curious amusement was often at his own expense. For all her good intentions, her gifts weren't always appropriate. He'd learned to unwrap them privately and out of the sight of others as he'd gotten older, even going so far as to keep her letters under close guard. Adrian had private, personal interests just like anyone else. And it was just like his grandmother to blab his secrets, even if nobody really cared to remember beyond their initial reaction. He had a hard enough time managing his reputation in a house where he already barely fit in. No need to make it any harder on himself when others would take up the job for him.
But today seemed like a normal enough post: an unremarkable, plain envelope, small. It didn't look like his gran's stationary. Occasionally he'd get letters from his grandfather, which were less anxiety inducing and usually a welcome sight. He was a man of few words, but he always seemed to make them count. The anxious tension seemed to leave his face at the sight of their owl, and he rewarded it with a strip of bacon.
"No new broom kit today? Do they even know you got sacked from the team last year?"
Adrian didn't bother to look up. He made a consistent effort to ignore Cassius and Miles, bored with the same insults they dished out over and over again. He wasn't even sure which one had said anything. But he wasn't giving either of them the satisfaction today. Before Miles could reach for the letter, Adrian kicked him under the table, jabbing his heel into the other boy's shin.
"Fuck off, I'm really not in the mood."
He heard Cassius snort a bit and unsuccessfully hold back a laugh at Miles. Adrian usually let comments slide, but he wasn't a door mat. And when backed into a corner he could give back just as good as he got.
He left them both behind in the Great Hall, dreading the task of writing his first draft for Snape's essay, but ready to get it over with. With Diane's help he'd been able to expand his outline just enough. It was the bare minimum, but it was factually correct and would at least be competently written. Thinking he was alone, he went to tear open his grandfather's letter...
... and sighed immediately, his face drooping some when he noticed his gran's handwriting instead. He didn't realize something slipped out from the envelope, falling silently just a few steps back behind him. Some folded paper, larger than the letter itself, obviously charmed to fit into the smaller envelope. He also didn't hear someone come up behind, stopping, curious, to pick up what he'd dropped.
He did hear someone unfurling the paper behind him. He snapped around, eyes widening as he saw the autographed Spellbound poster he'd owled to the girl group months ago.