July 11, 2022 – 1:50 AM
June 21, 1892 - Foxwood Home, Basil’s Birthday Party
“Sir, sir! Did you still want to mail this letter? It must have fallen out when you handed the package to the man.” The woman behind the counter asked as she held out the letter to him, her chest rising and falling rapidly; she had followed him through the streets until she had finally caught Gus’ attention. His face flushed red before he offered her a smile, accepting the letter from her; he’d tucked it between the twine in the package although it must have fallen out when he’d jostled the package at Basil. It wouldn’t make much sense without it, and while Gus expected him to toss the entire thing in the trash without even opening it, he hoped, deep down, that Basil would at least be curious enough to open it. While the letter wasn’t vital, it would take away from the experience if he wasn’t sure what he was looking at - it was a pairing of tea and desserts, and the letter explained in detail what went with what.
He shook his head as he clutched the letter, the envelope crinkling in his grasp. “No, thank you. I’ll just - I’ll deliver it. It’s time sensitive.” The woman opened her mouth to respond, but he shook his head. “I, wow. Thank you so much for finding it. I appreciate it. Have a great day.” Gus flashed her another smile and apparated away from Hogsmeade; he had to make this quick because he really was playing tennis with some muggles he met in Irvingly and was looking forward to learning how to play. The concept sounded interesting and he really needed to get some fresh air before he went stir crazy inside.
Gus hadn’t apparated to the Foxwood home for a long time, yet as he stared up at it he found it looked exactly the same: the stone that looked impeccable, the door that was large and looming and the windows where he swore people in the home constantly stared down at him. He swallowed hard as he stared at the door, although he wasn't sure what he was waiting for - an army? Someone to come out and shoo him away with a broom? It wasn’t as if he was asking to stay. He just wanted to hand the letter to a staff member to give to Basil, who, if he was lucky, was still off in London grabbing a bite to eat. Then he wouldn’t have to look desperate enough to come deliver it in person.
So of course when he finally gathered enough courage to knock on the door and a young man answered, he was told to wait and off he went, leaving Gus nervously fiddling with the envelope standing in the threshold of the door. Basil’s name was scratched across the middle, nearly unreadable. When the door finally opened, Atticus Foxwood stood in the doorway, his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line. Gus laughed nervously. “I, uh. Hi. Mr. Foxwood. I, well, I have a letter for Basil and I was hoping you could give it to him - ” He stopped speaking the moment the man raised his hand.