Nico had expected his father to stick it in a pocket out of sight, that he would transfigure it into a pin so that he might wear it delighted him beyond words. He had thought at first that he'd pin it to the front of his clothing where brooches often went but his sleeve was just as good, he reasoned. His right sleeve might've made more sense, like it would be bestowing luck on his wand arm but it was more likely to get damaged or lost there, or just get in the way. He wanted to reiterate his belief in his father's ability to win but his courage wouldn't extend that far.

He finally managed to subdue most of his smile and waited instead for his father to say something to him, hopefully something other than a dismissal.

---

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   Domitian Zabini

Domitian focused on weaving the newly sharp end of the feather into the fabric of his coat sleeve, tightly enough that it wouldn't be likely to flutter away at the first strong gust of wind. He was supposed to be airborne for part of the course, after all, so it would have to stand up to quite a beating. He was aware of his son watching him, but didn't look up until he had finished with the feather and replaced his wand in his sleeve.

"Well?" he asked, moving his hands to rest lightly on his hips, his coat pushed back behind them.

  

---

Bree made this!

Alas, his father was indeed going to dismiss him. He almost let his shoulders droop but quickly remembered the earlier reprimand. "I-I'll see you afterwards then, Pa?" He didn't want to seemed eager to leave but his father also sounded like he didn't want to have to outright tell him to go find his mother in the stands.

---

  

Domitian's mouth twitched up at the corner, for just a second.

"Assuming this competition doesn't see me to the hospital, I expect you will," he said with a nod.

  

---

Bree made this!

It hadn't occurred to him yet that his father might end up injured, he'd only thought as far as winning or losing. He wanted to reject the possibility that his father could get hurt but he didn't know how to present the sentiment to his father in a way he'd find inoffensive. Instead he settled for, "Don't lose the feather, Pa." After a beat he realized it sounded as though he was giving his father orders and hastily tried to fix it by adding, "Please."

---

  

Domitian looked over at his son at the sudden admonishment. He was surprised that the boy had spoken up at all, more than by the words or the tone. Nico could be timid, he knew, so when he did speak it was only to convey something of great importance. Domitian wasn't sure whether it was a habit he ought to encourage or not — being measured with one's words was a skill he'd tried to hone over the years, but being afraid to speak was not something to be born.

He considered for a moment, but when he spoke again all he said was: "I won't."

  

---

Bree made this!

This time he couldn't hold back a smile or at least not all of it. It was a small smile he offered his father but only because he'd caught it in time and made it so.

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   Domitian Zabini