Who: Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson (and a pair of falcons). When: August 16th, 1998. Late morning. Where: Malfoy Manor. What: Lessons with falcons. And lunch. Rating: Low.
The weather was currently holding off, although clouds did hang heavy in the sky and threaten to rain. Draco was of the mind that the rain would hold off simply because he willed it and he was a Malfoy. Everyone else (who knew what was good for them) obeyed them, why not the weather as well? Like everything else, the weather needed to learn that Malfoys ruled. Period.
Draco had dressed accordingly, in simple trousers and a long-sleeved thin sweater (despite the simplicity, all were perfectly tailored and very expensive), and a pair of boots suitable for traipsing around out of doors. He was sitting in the parlour and idly reading the newspaper - articles about erklings and fingers in the post, honestly, what was the Prophet coming to? - when he heard a knock at the door.
Quickly folding the paper and setting it aside, Draco moved smoothly through the house. He shooed away a House Elf who was going for the door, telling the creature to get out of sight. Draco reached the door and opened it, and a smile formed on his pointy features, because it was one of the few people worthy of a smile.
"Hello, Pansy," he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "It is good to see you. And Ronin," he added to the hooded falcon she carried. "Shall we go see Ákos now, while the weather is holding?"