When Albus apparated to Hogsmeade station, he looked every bit the respectable wizard. A cloak of fine black billowed about as he made his way to the carriage, the silver chain and clasp catching in the flickering torches. He rode the carriages with Scorpius. With one of his oldest friends at the side, a sense of nostalgia washed over as he saw the castle loom.
My, how times changed. And how much they stayed the same.
The clamor in the hall died as he stepped though the doors. But that was nothing new. He’d had rooms drop to silence before him more than once. And he refused to let this stop him. He stepped to the side, to the young witch checking coats, and took of his cloak with a flourish, letting the subtle glamour he’d cast dissipate. He smiled, and turned to face the room.
The slate grey suit was a muggle cut, a subtle herringbone pattern in the waistcoat adding texture to the expanse of fabric. He wore a black shirt under, letting the stark green tie shine for all to see; the silver snake the wove its way through the fabric, magically wandering the expanse of the tie was a nice touch. On his lapel was a broach, in sterling silver and jet, set with small stones to catch the light. A snake as well, coiled and protective over his heart. He straightened his lapels, did up his top button, and let the light catch the Ombre of emerald that were his nails. He let a smirk settle into place as he brushed an invisible piece of lint from his his sleeve and took a step.
And the clack of his heel resonated on stone. Heeled boots in green clacked as he moved. And he gave a deliberate drag of a heel, letting a series of green and silver sparks shimmer in his wake.
They had attacked him for who he was.
Albus only knew one response to that.
Be more.
