It was surprising that Christopher hadn't killed anyone with how ridiculously appalling this week was shaping up to be. What next? More unnecessary abuse fate decided to inflict upon him? Like he didn't deserve any of this, because nothing he had ever done that called for this kind of sustaining life torture. Prisca Pucey pregnant with his child. Goldstein yet again escaping his grasp. Juliana deciding he needed to spend time with---- Mischa. And worst of all, the unfamiliar sting of the Dark Lord's betrayal concerning last Friday's events... again, could things get much worse?

They could, but he didn't dare to think otherwise, just incase pure thought now was capable of destroying lives.

Christopher stood up a bit straighter at Prisca Pucey's door, completely unwilling to announce his arrival (not that she had known he was coming). Though the more he stood there, the more he had no idea why he even had relations with women, because obviously half the time he did they got pregnant. Since when did that happen to people? The thought of not having sex anymore was equally unappealing as having more children--- though from the looks of things, it seemed that was going to be his situation for a while. Prisca was, as much as Christopher did not want to admit, a daughter from a very high-class and well respected pureblood family, leaving him with very little options.

He sighed, closing his eyes for a few seconds to fully take in these last peaceful moments silence. He was going to miss it. Raising his hand, Christopehr curtly knocked on the door. Joy.