dysonrules (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dysonrules) wrote2010-02-03 09:26 pm
dysonrules) wrote2010-02-03 09:26 pm
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Twinsensibility Part Forty Seven
UNDER THE WIRE! WOOT!
For a moment, Lorcan thought it was a joke. Lysander was fond of pranks. Lorcan blamed it on him spending far too much time with Lily Potter and her strange relatives. Her uncle owned a joke shop, for pity’s sake. Behaving foolishly was obviously in their blood. Although Lysander’s pranks seldom involved Lorcan, unless he was specifically looking for a reaction.
In the end, it was the look in Lysander’s eyes that pushed him from speculation about a possible prank to near-panicked action. Lysander had not expected to be yanked from Lorcan’s side—his last astonished glance had proven it.
Lorcan raced into the building wherein Lysander had received the package. “Where did it come from?” he demanded of the surprised clerk.
“Wha—?” the idiot spluttered.
Lorcan launched himself half over the counter to snatch at the throat of the man’s robe.
“The package you gave my brother contained a Portkey,” he snarled. “Now, where did it come from?”
“I’ll have to... the… the log book!” the clerk babbled, eyes wide and face starting to purple as his eyes darted toward a stack of papers nearby. It was possible Lorcan was cutting off his air supply. He shoved the man backward, feeling the minutes spinning away. Where had Lysander gone?
“Get it!” Lorcan snarled and pulled out his wand.
The man scrambled over to the papers and snatched up a stack to flip through them rapidly, glancing at Lorcan from time to time. Lorcan tapped his wand against his thigh, narrowly restraining himself from hexing the idiot out of principle. His filing system would have been laughable under different circumstances.
“The… the item was from… it says, ‘Bamboozles’ here.”
“The return address?” Lorcan gritted.
“There… there… there isn’t one,” the clerk replied and cringed, possibly expecting a Cruciatus Curse. Lorcan considered it.
“The owl. Where was the owl from?” he said in as calm a tone as he could muster. For some reason, it seemed to terrify the man even more. The papers shook in his hands like leaves on a tree in a heavy wind.
“Diagon Alley Messenger Service,” he said hoarsely.
Fuck! Anyone could have sent it. Lorcan highly doubted there was any such place as "Bamboozles” and how could he not have picked up on that before? A knife-edge of guilt stabbed through him at the knowledge that he could have stopped Lysander. If only he had been more suspicious.
The clerk began to surreptitiously back away. He would likely bolt at any moment. Lorcan looked at the box, still clutched in his left hand, one edge crumpling from the force.
Lorcan spun on a heel and stormed outside. Part of him wanted to stay and wait on the off-chance that Lysander returned. Perhaps it had been a silly prank on the part of someone else? Lorcan intended to question Lily Potter at earliest opportunity.
But first…
He lifted his wand and cast a Patronus Charm. As soon as the silvery bolt sped from the end of his wand, he felt the icy grip of fear ease somewhat.
His mother would know what to do.
For a moment, Lorcan thought it was a joke. Lysander was fond of pranks. Lorcan blamed it on him spending far too much time with Lily Potter and her strange relatives. Her uncle owned a joke shop, for pity’s sake. Behaving foolishly was obviously in their blood. Although Lysander’s pranks seldom involved Lorcan, unless he was specifically looking for a reaction.
In the end, it was the look in Lysander’s eyes that pushed him from speculation about a possible prank to near-panicked action. Lysander had not expected to be yanked from Lorcan’s side—his last astonished glance had proven it.
Lorcan raced into the building wherein Lysander had received the package. “Where did it come from?” he demanded of the surprised clerk.
“Wha—?” the idiot spluttered.
Lorcan launched himself half over the counter to snatch at the throat of the man’s robe.
“The package you gave my brother contained a Portkey,” he snarled. “Now, where did it come from?”
“I’ll have to... the… the log book!” the clerk babbled, eyes wide and face starting to purple as his eyes darted toward a stack of papers nearby. It was possible Lorcan was cutting off his air supply. He shoved the man backward, feeling the minutes spinning away. Where had Lysander gone?
“Get it!” Lorcan snarled and pulled out his wand.
The man scrambled over to the papers and snatched up a stack to flip through them rapidly, glancing at Lorcan from time to time. Lorcan tapped his wand against his thigh, narrowly restraining himself from hexing the idiot out of principle. His filing system would have been laughable under different circumstances.
“The… the item was from… it says, ‘Bamboozles’ here.”
“The return address?” Lorcan gritted.
“There… there… there isn’t one,” the clerk replied and cringed, possibly expecting a Cruciatus Curse. Lorcan considered it.
“The owl. Where was the owl from?” he said in as calm a tone as he could muster. For some reason, it seemed to terrify the man even more. The papers shook in his hands like leaves on a tree in a heavy wind.
“Diagon Alley Messenger Service,” he said hoarsely.
Fuck! Anyone could have sent it. Lorcan highly doubted there was any such place as "Bamboozles” and how could he not have picked up on that before? A knife-edge of guilt stabbed through him at the knowledge that he could have stopped Lysander. If only he had been more suspicious.
The clerk began to surreptitiously back away. He would likely bolt at any moment. Lorcan looked at the box, still clutched in his left hand, one edge crumpling from the force.
Lorcan spun on a heel and stormed outside. Part of him wanted to stay and wait on the off-chance that Lysander returned. Perhaps it had been a silly prank on the part of someone else? Lorcan intended to question Lily Potter at earliest opportunity.
But first…
He lifted his wand and cast a Patronus Charm. As soon as the silvery bolt sped from the end of his wand, he felt the icy grip of fear ease somewhat.
His mother would know what to do.