WHO Minerva McGonagall and Abraxas Malfoy
WHAT A meet up in London
WHEN 3:00 PM
WHERE Diagon Alley
STATUS Incomplete
After the initial protests of his mother had been eased with gentle assurances and reassurances that
yes he was going to be alright, and
no there weren’t likely to be any bombings, and he was going to Diagon Alley anyway, which is probably one of the safest places you could be in all of England, let alone London. Abraxas wasn’t sure how true that was, but no good telling his mother that.
“And since you’re going into London,” his father had said, not looking up from his paper, “Do you remember that little puzzle box your uncle gave me?”
His son sighed. “I don’t know. If you’re talking about that one that drives you mad trying to open it and makes you bleed every time you get it wrong, then yes.”
“Yes, that’s right. I had Burke make sure it was all in working order a few months ago and haven’t had time to pick it up. Kept slipping my mind. Go get it. If he hasn’t already sold it.”
“We’ve had that thing for ages. Are you going to give it to someone, father?”
The elder Malfoy gave his son one of those exquisitely piercing, scalpel-sharp ‘mind your own business’ glares that he was so good at. If Abraxas wasn’t used to them by now, it probably would have drawn blood. The next few minutes consisted of the expected drilling from his father. He wouldn’t forget? He would be careful? He wouldn’t touch it with his bare hands? He’d make sure Burke double-wrapped it, and put the necessary protective spells on it just in case? And he
wouldn’t forget?
Which is why he was in a hurry to leave, reaching London a full three hours before the agreed upon time. And he’d been overgenerous with the floo powder, snatching a handful and nearly-shouting with all too much enthusiasm “Knockturn Alley”. It made the ride through the fireplace quick, but disorienting. After being spat out into the one dingy pub in the place (the other patrons looked on with mild interest as he staggered out, shaking the ash from his robes, and leaned against a wall until the room stopped spinning), he had time enough to pick up the trinket and browse, and make sure everything was still whole and untouched by the bombs. Not that one would be able to tell very much, in that place. There were parts of Knockturn Alley that were half in ruins as it was.
And then, with business attended to and enough time to order a butterbeer and get himself settled, he made his way out into the light into Diagon Alley proper, and then to the Leaky Cauldron to wait for McGonagall.
