#starter2

Having worn purple for the Nott/Burke engagement party and a deep goldenrod for the St. Mungo’s gala, Violet had taken extra care in choosing what she wore for the Wilkes’ annual garden party. In the end she had chosen a shade of peacock blue that both complemented her skin tone and matched the nature of the event. Her hair had been worn up in a loose style and pearls fell from her neck and her ears. She looked every inch the part of pureblood hostess, despite the fact that it was her mother who truly hosted the event.

Violet sipped from a flute of champagne as she mingled, ensuring that each guest had what they wanted and accepting the compliments on the state of the garden itself. It had not been easy to ensure that the blooms had arrived at the same time.

“One of the victims, aged 15, was in his Fifth Year at Hogwarts and sources say he was a Ravenclaw who excelled in his studies.” Edgar’s fists tightened around the crinkled edges of yesterday’s edition of the Daily Prophet. His eyes slid across each word with deliberate care. How could this have happened? How could a fifteen year old boy have died? This boy was from his very own class, just a few years younger than Edgar himself. -- And he’d died. 

“On a lighter note, the fashion of the evening will be highlighted on page 3, with designs from around the world being featured on many of our favorite socialites.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Edgar breathed, tossing the newspaper away from him. There didn’t seem to be the appropriate amount of outrage for such a tragedy. A student had been murdered. 

      ------ Edgar had not been looking forward to the school year to begin with, but now, after this, he wanted nothing more than to run away somewhere else. Of course, he couldn’t. Which is why he found himself here, sitting alone on the Hogwarts Express. He’d wanted a moment alone so he could gather his thoughts and put his head together before the year officially began.

Luck was not on his side, though, because the door to his compartment slid open, causing Edgar to look up in surprise. After a second, he leaned back, settled once more. “Oh, it’s you.”

Desde que Ben acordara, ele vinha se esforçando para se adaptar àquele lugar sem chamar muita atenção. Curiosamente, George mostrara-se bastante solícito em ajudá-lo nessa tarefa. À distância, Ben observava Katherine, tentando decifrar o que se passava na mente da chefe. "Então, chefia, fico preocupado quando você fica tanto tempo quieta assim," comentou o policial, enquanto pegava uma uva do prato de frutas que trouxera para a "esposa". "Você nem tocou em nada. Seria bom comer alguma coisa se quisermos encontrar esse grimório."

The past few days had been busier than Sirius had expected and though he’d known that the disappearance of Percival Prewett would return to the public stage, he had to admit that he’d not expected an arrest to be made. His parents had been more overbearing than usual and even his grandfather had called him in to remind him of what he represented, what the Blacks represented in pureblood society. It had simply been a different version of the same lesson Sirius had been taught since childhood: don’t get caught, don’t bring scandal down on our family. And while Sirius had been all too happy to eschew that when he had lived apart from his family, he recognized that he was playing on much a much larger playing field now.

The arrest of Richard Selwyn was surprising, given that Sirius had been called in for questioning only the day before. It was cursory, the story that they’d all agreed upon, and Sirius had always thought he was rather good at lying. He had no reason to think Richard Selwyn had anything to do with Percival’s death, especially not given the fact that he had been the one to get rid of the body, and he wondered why the Ministry seemed to quick to jump on the other man.

He rubbed his hand along his jawline as he took a sip from the whiskey in front of him. A cigar sat smoking in a glass ashtray on the table in front of him and Sirius leaned his head back, recognizing that things between the purebloods and the not-purebloods were likely to heat up in the coming days. He’d rather be back in Muggle London, with a bird between his sheets and his leather jacket on his floor, but for now he was stuck here, waiting to see how this played out.

▼ ------

This was happening! Finally, happening, so why was He feeling like turning around and running out the door? A mixture of fear and self doubt screamed from deep within those eyes. He had fought so long, and during His Academy years, He had been such a asshole to everyone around Him. Broke some hearts, and rules along the way. 

And if it wasn't for one girl, one angel of a lady, He'd possibly be bagging groceries at the local wal-mart. Many a days,  He had wandered what had became of Her. If she still lived around here, and if She was doing ok. He and His wife, were happy, but there was problems. Maybe it was your normal marriage, by america's standards anyhow. But they were working through it.

And, It wasn't like He could go back, and tell Jennifer how sorry He was now, anyhow.  There child would have been in it's teens by now. The pain was still raw, still painful. But He had his hold on life anyhow, enough to deal with the burning pain in his heart. 

His eyes raised when He heard the soft cough, to find a young man in his early 20's. He had to be a secretary or something, right? Brow raised, as He began to profile Him, until the male raised a hand. Stopping Elijah before He could start. The males voice was soft, and very adorable.

" Before you try to profile Me, I am 26 years old. And I'm one of you." That one set the other back, Elijah stood. Placing the magazine He had been reading down on the table across from Him. He opened His mouth to speak, but came up empty handed. The kid was cute as hell, and He didn't need to profile Him to figure out, He was a super genius.

He smiled, " I'm sorry, it is just instinct for Me. I've been doing it since I graduated from the Academy." Reid nodded, those vocals became aware fast to Elijah. 

"No, don't apologize The others are ready to meet and asses you now. This way." He gave a nod, puling His bag over His shoulder. He followed in suit close behind, file in hand as Hotch had requested on the phone. The door creaked open and Reid announced Elijah's arrival. He raised his eyes to take in every face, get a feel of them. He knew Hotch already from the meeting they'd had that morning, along with Garcia, whom had called Him,  Italian Stalion.

That was when He froze, he couldn't breathe. It had felt like someone had punched him in the gut. He knew that shape, that hair.