#blackdaffodil

Evan was perched on a ledge in the common room, book in his lap. Yet another factual retelling of unsolved Wizarding crimes. Morbidly he’d taken a liking to them after his father was killed. With the ministry being useless - as always -, he’d tried to take it upon himself to piece together what he knew of his fathers murder. As if that would lead him closer to the guilty party; as if somehow that would allow him to find an ouch of peace. It didn’t. If anything it only made him more obsessive and hell bent on finding his own form of justice that was never given. Clad in all black as usual, his raven eyes glanced up briefly from the french literature in his hands to catch sight of his cousin. Narcissa Black. While Bellatrix has always been his favourite, mainly due to her help and salvation after everything had crumbled, he had to admit he had taken an unfortunate liking to the rest of his cousins when his father had died. Because really, with what felt like the rosier name crumbling around him; what else did he have to hold onto but the last of his obscure family? “You look particular glad today Cissa.” Evan spoke, a curious quirk of eyebrow. “Anything worth sharing with your favourite cousin?” He uttered sarcastically before offering a small grin. @black--daffodil​