@implicatedbyprophecy | continued
Corvus ducked his head as she took his hand, dark curls falling across his face. It wasn't uncommon for the sixteen year old to end up at his sister's home during the school holidays, preferring that greatly to being in the family home with their father. The Lestrange manor was too cold, too empty, just like the man at the head of it, and as he got older it got more and more difficult to be the son his father wanted. Not when he didn't want to be that sort of person, and when the pressure was piling on.
"He keeps going on about what my OWL results should be. As if I'm not nervous enough," he muttered. Any day now the results would come and the thought made him queasy.
thatsecondsalemboy:
Corvus leant into the embrace, wrapping his arms around his sister and sighing softly, resting his head on her shoulder. It was a lonely life for the two of them, having only each other, with a father not worth talking about. Both of their mothers were dead, and Corvus still missed his mother vehemently, even though he had only been a small child when her frailty and illness had finally claimed her.
He was about to speak again when there was a faint rap on the window and his eyes lifted to see the owl perched on the windowsill.
Leta held him close to her and squeezed him gently. He was the most important person in her life. She’d even postponed a date that she was supposed to have been going on because she knew that Corvus was going to be back from Hogwarts.
She looked over at the owl and stood up, going over and taking the letter from the bird.
