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Julius Scrimgeour for Bella Scrimgeour.
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The Sealed Letter
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July, 1889 (The Day of the Hogwarts Letters) — Bones Household
@Eldin Bones
Belle looked from the letter on the table to her son, who had been staring at the same from the moment it dropped on their breakfast table ten minutes before. The girls, had they not been otherwise occupied, would have rolled their eyes at his reluctance and she expected that Vesta would have picked it up and read it herself before she let her brother become quite so conflicted over something as simple as opening an envelope.

“It’s nothing to be frightened of, you know?” Belle offered from over her teacup, trying to sound like she was being sound and rational because she was speaking the truth and not because she was his mother and she desperately wanted Eldin to believe it so his feelings weren’t hurt if it wasn’t the news he wanted. “Just a letter. The same one you get every year.”

Except, of course, this one would say whether he could add the Head Boy badge to his cloak this year. Logically Belle knew it was silly – it was, after all, just a badge – and in ten years time she doubted it would make the slightest bit of difference to her son but for now it seemed so important to him. She hadn’t been Head Girl in her day, but she also knew that would come as little consolation when his father had, so she held her tongue, trying not to stare and make it obvious how curious she was to what it contained. Had there been a thud when the owl dropped it? She couldn’t recalled, having been busy buttering toast at the time… Merlin, she really ought to have been paying attention!


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Lady made me sexy <3
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Eldin had expected the letter to arrive soon, but not this soon, and he certainly hadn't prepared himself for the emotional weight that would accompany it. He made sure to wipe all expression off his face when he faced his mother, but she knew him too well. She knew it meant something to him — even if he knew it was silly. Being Head Boy was not too different from being prefect; the responsibilities were just the same, and so was the power apart from being able to scold the other prefects, but it was still something. Recognition. Acknowledgement. A badge of pride. He wanted to be like his father, and he wanted to make his mother proud. No matter how much she insisted it didn't matter, and no matter how much he tried to tell himself the same, it did matter.

"I know," he said, trying to keep his tone casual, although his stillness directly contradicted the words that left his mouth. He couldn't stop staring at it, knowing full well that the moment he picked it up would be the moment he knew whether or not he'd gotten his wish. It was so silly — he hadn't been this reluctant to open his own OWL grades, which were far more important! — but he couldn't move a single muscle.

"This year is important." he said, trying to distract both his mother and himself. "I have to get good NEWTs if I want to become a healer. And then there's quidditch..."




this MJ set was blessed by the heavens above
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