3This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Arthur sighed, staring out the window of his office in a last effort to ignore the letter on his desk. It was from his wife-ex-wife soon, he feared-complaining that she was pissed at him. He didn't understand why, but Molly had always been a bit of an attention grabber-if only because of her bitchy attitude (don't tell her he thought that)-so he didn't dwell on it. He'd rather not think of it anyway. He had an idea as to the reason...
There was a knock on the door, soft and clear-he knew it from before, when he was in school... It was nostalgic. He smiled. "Come in," he said, silently adding the person's name before returning to his task of staring out the window.
"What are you doing?"
He found it funny and rather considerate that the man at the door-or was he closer?-didn't read his mind to answer his question. "Nothing."
"Your wife yelled at me this morning."
Arthur winced, Molly went too far... "Did she? I'm sorry."
"She did," the man said and Arthur imagined he nodded. "You need not say that; Narcissa hexed her. So I-"
"Did she? Well, I do hope her aim was well." Arthur could feel the cool stare chilling his back turn warm.
"It was. It is, very much so."
"I see; that's good." Arthur sighed as he watched snow start to drift down from the sky. It would be cold-chilled in the Burrow. He hated that.
"Snow?"
Arthur smiled, hearing the pleasure in the other man's voice. While he hated the snow, the other loved it. He didn't mind though, it was nice.
"It is a bit early for snow, do you not agree?"
Small talk... the man wanted small talk. Arthur almost laughed, almost. "It is, but it's already November, it's fine." There was silence and Arthur realized the man didn't know what else to say. "How is your wife anyway?"
"Oh, she is well. Going away this weekend with a friend of my aunt."
"How long?"
"She will be back on Tuesday."
He had no idea when Monday was counted as a weekend, but he ignored it. Today was Thursday and he remembered from school that the man referred to Fridays as the first day of a weekend. Narcissa would be gone four days...
"It looks heavy."
Arthur focused back on the snow and noticed it had picked up. It will be very cold tonight. He shivered; he hated the snow!
"Are you finished?"
Arthur blinked, taking a moment to process what the man meant. His work... He nodded.
"Are you leaving?"
Arthur smiled, "Are you?"
"I am, but I wanted to pick up some company."
Arthur's smile widened, "Really?"
"Yes."
He turned around and smiled softly, "Who would that be?"
"An old friend..."
"It would be easier to just grab me and run, Lucius."
"That is so very... tasteless, however." Lucius shook his head. "Besides," he glanced away for a second. "You... were not too happy the last time I did that."
That was true, Arthur acknowledged. He had yelled at Lucius and almost hexed him. Still... "That was in school."
"That also means it has been a while since we were..."
"Together? True..." Of course, Lucius was always right, wasn't he? Arthur stood and grabbed his cloak, wrapping it around himself and blushing at the stitches Lucius raised an eyebrow at. "The Burrow will be cold..."
"The Manor will be exceptionally warm this weekend." Lucius softly stated, turning and slowly walking to the door. "And hollow."
Arthur watched him, studying the long, pale hair that stood out so beautifully from the thick, black cloak that adorned the man. "You shouldn't turn away from company so quickly, Lucius."
The blonde turned and stared at him with half-lidded eyes for a moment before softly smiling, "I apologize. Would you be that company?"
"Of course, Molly should be fine."
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