[And Edgeworth looks up at Sirius, watching him as he speaks - and at the end of that, he offers a smile. It's not remotely grim, but instead quietly glad - because he heard that open warmth in Sirius' voice. It's the very first time he's sounded like that - not gruff, or angry, or haughty, but just sort of...happy.]
She sounds lovely.
[A pause, then, and his happiness fades as he asks, tentatively - ]
[His own happiness fades just at about the same time as Edgeworth's. It's stupid, getting sentimental over Andromeda--though now he can probably go round to her house, as it won't much matter any longer who he's seen with.
He shrugs, twisting his heel against the floor again.]
[That's a question that surprises him; he looks over, trying to discern whether that's pointed mockery or a rhetorical question. He decides to answer it, instead, like it's a real question.]
They're different inasmuch as...students at Hogwarts are - sheltered, largely, from real danger. She would not be.
[The counterpoint to that, of course, is that he must also deal with the Slytherins, daily, must be confronted with such hatred...But that's hardly of consequence.]
She's a blood-traitor. That doesn't mean they want to spill her blood, that would be wasteful. There's only so many purebloods out there, we can't turn on our own.
[He smiles, grimly, staring down at his boot again.]
She'd be taken care of. It's her husband that ought to be worried. A bystander is easy to make into a casualty, for a cause that's got nothing to do with them, except that they made the mistake of being related to someone who's a target.
[And he's done talking about Andromeda, he doesn't want to confront the way thinking about her makes him feel. And he knows exactly how to wound Edgeworth, all the things to say, so he looks back at him quite steadily.]
[And, indeed, that makes Edgeworth fall silent; it makes him drop his gaze, feeling nauseated and sad. He doesn't have a response to that; like always, that particular blow hits so much harder than any of the others. And even though this one isn't as harsh as some of the others, it's the one that fells him; he doesn't have anything else to say to that, but just closes his eyes.
He wonders if he avenged Dad tonight. He wonders if he's made up for what he did when he got him killed - when he set a death sentence on Dad for being born different, being born some mutant with freakish, stupid, hateful abilities. He wonders if Dad would forgive him.
One moment passes, two - and then, finally, the door creaks open. Edgeworth's eyes open at once; he leans forward, fear leaping within him - but the two Aurors who enter are looking only at Sirius.
[Sirius looks back at them for a long moment--not so long, but long enough, and he does not stand. His arms stay folded over his chest and his posture remains slumped.
He doesn't know them. There's no clue to tell him who they are--surname or standing or anything. The world doesn't work that way any longer anyways. What does it matter?
[They don't reply, not verbally. Instead, they step aside to make way for a tall man, a man with imposing features, a handsome face, a tumble of dark elegant hair. Rings on his fingers. Edgeworth knows who this is at once; he recognizes him from Sirius' memories, a man both cold and distant. He spares Edgeworth a brief glance, contemptuous and dismissive; it's a strange thing, to meet his eyes, knowing all he knows.
Straighten up, is what he says to his son. His manner is imperious. And then, a moment later: Is it true?]
[The moment that he sees his father--it's like being called to attention. His shoulders go back, his spine straightens--he picks that point, in the distance, a fixed spot on the wall. Eyes up and forward but not meeting his father's gaze, never going that far. It's like he's shrugged on a coat, altering everything--gone is his slouch, his sneer. And he doesn't look at Edgeworth, or at the Aurors--they might as well have gone from the room. His focus is on his father, only his father.
But what he has to tell him is no easy thing. There's just a beat, of silence, and then:]
[Edgeworth watches that transformation, and he despises it. There's a certain degree of irony - he's spent years snarling and barking at Sirius-Black-the-arrogant-Slytherin for his lack of dignity, for his poor comportment, for his loudness, his lack of respect; the sight of the boy tipping back in his chair with lazy arrogance, year after year, had filled Edgeworth with such anger. A week ago, seeing Sirius soldier-stiff, staring at the wall like a soldier, disciplined as a soldier, would have given Edgeworth such satisfaction. Now...it just makes him feel ill.
And the cold expression of hatred that Orion Black wears makes him feel ill as well. How different this man is from Gregory Edgeworth. From what Miles remembers of his father, this man would be like Dad in stature, in age, in general appearance; and yet there would have been no true resemblance between them. For Dad never would have worn that expression of contempt; he never would have twitched his shoulders in that officious, angry way. He never would have gazed upon his son with dislike.
And that's why Edgeworth steps forth as soon as Sirius stops talking. Because he wants to unsettle this man - and, more, because he wants Sirius to stop looking so proper.]
Mr. Black, I think what is true quite depends on what you have heard. If you have been made to understand that Voldemort has been slain, then, indeed, that is true. Beyond that, you should be more specific.
[Edgeworth's voice breaks in, abruptly, to that silence, and it's surprising enough that Sirius looks around. A second later and he remembers himself, looks back forward--but he needn't have worried, because his father is staring at Edgeworth with narrow and singular dislike.
He doesn't answer. He just stares at him, long after he's stopped speaking, just long enough so that it feels uncomfortable.
Are you presuming to speak to me? he asks, and his voice is like silk, but the undercurrent of disgust is so strong beneath it.]
[There was a time when Edgeworth's default attitudes towards adults was unfailingly polite. There's still a part of him that flinches away from being offensive to those who are older than he is, but he grew up a Gryffindor and he grew up having to defend himself daily from taunts about his heritage; his reluctance and deference have, over the years, been covered up by a sheen of brash defensiveness.
And so Edgeworth's response to that question is to lift his chin, and meet Orion Black's eyes directly. And his response - to this man who looks at him like he's dirt, who looks at Sirius, his son, like he's dirt - is openly rude.]
Given that I prefaced my comments with your name, I think we can assume so.
[Sirius doesn't flinch. He should, maybe, on Edgeworth's behalf. No one has ever gotten anywhere with Orion Black, speaking to him like that. He doesn't even get angry. He just looks at people, patient and cold, and they impale themselves on their own spears.
Funny. Orion smiles, the barest lifting of his lips. He has the same gray eyes as Sirius, but flintier. I addressed my son. And I know you are not my son. You are nothing of mine.
But he cocks his head, just a little, his gaze sliding down Edgeworth, taking in the sight of him. Miles Edgeworth. Correct?]
[It would under normal circumstances be hard not to quail under that look, but for the love of God, not three hours prior Edgeworth was challenging Lord Voldemort to a duel, so he can rather withstand the contemptuous gaze of Orion Black. It...does, admittedly, make him suddenly self-conscious of his dusty hair, his battered trainers, his Muggle clothing underneath his open robe - but he doesn't flinch.
He does look over to Sirius, though, for just a moment. The sight of him still standing stiff and silent and respectful feeds the fire of anger towards this miserable man, and it leads him to answer with more of that curt disrespect. It's an unabashedly Gryffindor sort of thing to do - but he wants to provoke the man, bring him to anger, demonstrate to Sirius that he's...not that cold, inhuman figure in the Black manor's parlor.]
Correct. Miles Edgeworth, who killed Lord Voldemort. And you're Orion Black, who cowtowed to him, correct?
[Sirius turns at that, he can't help it, and he does not try and correct himself this time. There's something in him that thinks you bloody idiot Miles Edgeworth, and there's something in him, still, that marks that as an insult--which is stupid, like his father would give a damn. If Sirius went for Edgeworth for blackening their name, his father would disapprove.
Orion doesn't so much as move. Indeed, his smile flicks into place again--not that his face is any warmer for it.
An interesting understanding of the situation, he says, coolly, but I'm afraid your information is rather bad, Miles Edgeworth. I never associated with the wizard who called himself Lord Voldemort. Indeed, I have never-- 'cowtowed' to anyone. I wouldn't know where to start. Perhaps you could demonstrate for us.
He turns away from Edgeworth, dismissive, though he's still speaking to him as he reaches into the interior of his robes. I would, however, be interested to know how you came to be in the position to murder another wizard. My sources provide better information than yours, I think--but there's nothing like hearing it from the hippogriff's mouth, as the saying goes.]
[Edgeworth can't help but flinch at murder. No matter how much he's pretending at being proud and defiant and ferocious, that death - that death at his hands, God - is something he can't be proud of. At least the man's back is turned, but Sirius is looking at him; he meets Sirius' eyes guiltily, either over the way he's speaking to Sirius' father or over his demonstrated weakness.
What would Sirius want him to say? To tell the truth, or to lie? To defend his position in his family, or to sever it? God, Edgeworth wants the latter. Edgeworth wants to lash out and cut the ties between Sirius and this miserable, cold, rotten man -
But it's not his place. But nor is he going to lie. So.]
I would like to know, sir, what authority you have to question me. Are you assigned to this case?
[Sirius' dad's expression is contemptuous when he looks at Edgeworth again. Blacks deal with Black business. That is our prerogative.]
[Orion Black knows the Aurors, even if Sirius doesn't. That's how he got in here, by knowing people and having enough gold at his disposal to take care of everything. All those Order of Merlins, in the glass cases at Grimmauld Place--they were all earned just like that, by gold and power and knowledge.
Sirius sees the look on Edgeworth's face, even if his father does not. Murder. Silently, he tries to tell Edgeworth: don't be so careless again, because if Orion sees, then he'll press, he spots weakness better than any hunting hound, and he knows how to use it. And all the while he's thinking: why warn Edgeworth. What does it batter. Black business, that's Sirius' as well, and he turns to his father, finally.]
I'll answer your questions, Father. I saw all of it. And I've already gotten Edgeworth's word that he's not going to claim responsibility for what happened. The Ministry can have their victory.
[That's not exactly what they said, and it was never really agreed upon. But it doesn't matter. It's something, anyways.]
[Edgeworth starts to protest that, but then closes his mouth on it. Again, he'd known what he was going to say to the Ministry, to the Aurors alone, but the appearance of Orion Black has complicated things. He'd wanted to tell the truth; that had been what he'd decided; but if he tells the truth in full, there's no question that he'll get Sirius disowned. It's not his right.
Besides, what's the worst thing that might happen? That Orion Black ends up misinformed? No; any man who could transform Sirius' infuriatingly drawling accent into something so proper, so grammar-school, deserves to be kept in the dark.
And when Sirius speaks, all of Orion's attention focuses on him again. There's nothing of approval in his face. There's nothing of affection. Just cold regard.
[He ignores Edgeworth completely. He doesn't so much as spare him a glance, though he can feel him there--though he wants, absurdly, to look at him. But he doesn't Instead,he lifts his chin a little, his focus all n his father.]
He followed me to the party. I knew he was there when I was about halfway--I thought I could catch him in a trap, but I lost him in the crowd when I arrived. Voldemort was there, with Bellatrix, and her husband, and a few others--we spoke, and Edgeworth revealed himself then. He was going to duel Voldemort.
[His mouth tightens a little. He's not forgotten the ridiculousness of that suggestion, the mocking laughter.]
It was shameful. To Voldemort. [A bold statement, but honour is prized very highly.] It doesn't matter if he's muggle-born, dueling him was beneath Voldemort. He'd have brought shame on his name, except it's an invented name.
[It's a plausible version of the story. It's a version that saves face for Sirius. It's a version that keeps Sirius from humiliation, from being disowned.
It's also a version that twists in Edgeworth like a knife. Sirius doesn't think any of what he's saying. Miles knows that, and he knows that Sirius has a perfectly good reason for telling this lie. Yet at the same time, it hurts to hear it, hurts to hear him speaking so clipped and proper about muggle-borns (not mudblood, though; that's something). He wishes he would stop.
But Orion's expression is turning less cold - not by much, just a bit. He asks: And he won against him? A mudblood? I don't think that's likely.]
[This is where it could get bloody dangerous, because--he can't sympathise. He can't look over at Edgeworth and he can't sound as if he's even thought with any sympathy. Because he's never forgotten that meeting at Hogwarts, first year--his father still in his traveling cloak, he'd not even taken off his gloves, and Sirius had never felt so scrutinised, so examined, for something he had done wrong. One misstep, and that's where you are, like something being dissected.
He lifts his chin a little.]
He was set to lose. It was pathetic. [That goes both ways, pathetic on Voldemort's part and Edgeworth's as well--] And then he brought the ceiling down.
[Let it stand alone. He looks back at his father, evenly, and doesn't offer any feeling on that statement. Let it stand alone, and if his father reads it as cheating then he will say so, cast his judgement--if he thinks it at all clever, he'll call it a mudblood trick anyways.]
[It was pathetic. It was, wasn't it? He'd only won through trickery; in the actual fight, the dual, he'd been as overwhelmed as a fly in a hurricane. He hadn't even been able to stay on his feet, let alone fight back; it was only because of Sirius' help that he had won. Only because of his help that he had survived.
He closes his eyes. If there is anything good to come of this whole affair - beyond Voldemort no longer leading his armies to slaughter innocents; he has to keep that in mind, has to remind himself of that, lest the charge of murder overwhelm him and cripple his conscience - it is that the two of them worked together. It ought to be a powerful symbol: the Muggle-born and the scion of the house Black, the mudblood and the pureblood, working together to put a stop to this tyranny. With the two of them together, it would be impossible to forge the easy narrative - of the pureblood turning on his leader out of jealousy and ambition, of the spiteful member of the underclass turning into a cowardly assassin. With them united, it's something less grotesque.
(Or maybe he just doesn't want to hear all of that from someone he's come to respect.)
Mudblood trickery, then, is Orion's assessment; he turns a contemptuous eye on Miles a moment later, lip curling. He looks so very much like his son, but with familiar features twisted in a way they ought not be, that it makes Edgeworth angry. Edgeworth looks down at his feet, jaw clenched, posture stiff.
[It seems, for a moment, that they will be in the clear with this, that everything will work out, safely, with all parties preserved, more or less. But it could never be that easy, and so when Orion turns back to look at him, Sirius jerks his chin up again. He was quick enough to tear his gaze away from Edgeworth, at least, so that goes unnoticed--and quick enough to marshal his expression, to stop himself from looking at all sympathetic. He knows Edgeworth's look well enough. He's done well, holding his own, but Orion Black isn't a force met lightly.
And he's reminded of that, now, under his father's scrutiny--not that he'd ever really forgotten. Sirius looks back at him, as steadily as he can.]
A Shield Charm. [The truth, finally.] I tried to intervene but wasn't able.
[And his father will not ask who it was that saved the muggles--because it was the muggle-born, that's obvious. It would never have been Sirius. He does not look over at Edgeworth but stares forward, resolute.]
[Orion's face is unreadable, impassive. Edgeworth doesn't know whether he's believing it. It seems...perhaps, perhaps he is; and that's good for Sirius.
Perhaps. Edgeworth cannot shake the feeling that it's worse for him. That it would be better if his father did cut all ties - but that's not his place to think, never his place.
Sirius' father is quiet a moment as he studies him. A moment, and then he asks: And how is it that the mudblood was able to follow you?
That's...a bad question, indicates a bad train of thought; Edgeworth steps in with an answer.]
I took the letter of invitation from amongst his things. [Not a lie.] And I read it through.
[Which is a bit too quick. It sounds just a little bit like a defense.]
no subject
Date: 2013-11-08 11:14 pm (UTC)She sounds lovely.
[A pause, then, and his happiness fades as he asks, tentatively - ]
She is...weathering this war all right?
no subject
Date: 2013-11-09 06:53 pm (UTC)He shrugs, twisting his heel against the floor again.]
Are you?
no subject
Date: 2013-11-09 07:24 pm (UTC)My situation is unlike hers.
oh this didn't post cute
Date: 2013-11-11 12:10 am (UTC)But they hate you both the same. Actually, I can't work out if they hate her more or someone like you. Maybe her, for being a blood-traitor.
It doesn't really matter though, does it, because in the end it's still shit.
cute yes you are cute
Date: 2013-11-11 02:10 pm (UTC)[He gives a small half-shrug.]
They're different inasmuch as...students at Hogwarts are - sheltered, largely, from real danger. She would not be.
[The counterpoint to that, of course, is that he must also deal with the Slytherins, daily, must be confronted with such hatred...But that's hardly of consequence.]
not as cute as you
Date: 2013-11-11 05:44 pm (UTC)[He smiles, grimly, staring down at his boot again.]
She'd be taken care of. It's her husband that ought to be worried. A bystander is easy to make into a casualty, for a cause that's got nothing to do with them, except that they made the mistake of being related to someone who's a target.
[And he's done talking about Andromeda, he doesn't want to confront the way thinking about her makes him feel. And he knows exactly how to wound Edgeworth, all the things to say, so he looks back at him quite steadily.]
But then, you'd know about that, right.
Not as cute as Ben Barnes' butt
Date: 2013-11-11 06:40 pm (UTC)He wonders if he avenged Dad tonight. He wonders if he's made up for what he did when he got him killed - when he set a death sentence on Dad for being born different, being born some mutant with freakish, stupid, hateful abilities. He wonders if Dad would forgive him.
One moment passes, two - and then, finally, the door creaks open. Edgeworth's eyes open at once; he leans forward, fear leaping within him - but the two Aurors who enter are looking only at Sirius.
Sirius Black. Please stand up.]
i'll drink to that :,)
Date: 2013-11-11 09:27 pm (UTC)He doesn't know them. There's no clue to tell him who they are--surname or standing or anything. The world doesn't work that way any longer anyways. What does it matter?
He stands, without looking at Edgeworth.]
What is it?
no subject
Date: 2013-11-11 09:52 pm (UTC)Straighten up, is what he says to his son. His manner is imperious. And then, a moment later: Is it true?]
no subject
Date: 2013-11-12 12:14 am (UTC)But what he has to tell him is no easy thing. There's just a beat, of silence, and then:]
It's true. Sir.
no subject
Date: 2013-11-12 12:54 am (UTC)And the cold expression of hatred that Orion Black wears makes him feel ill as well. How different this man is from Gregory Edgeworth. From what Miles remembers of his father, this man would be like Dad in stature, in age, in general appearance; and yet there would have been no true resemblance between them. For Dad never would have worn that expression of contempt; he never would have twitched his shoulders in that officious, angry way. He never would have gazed upon his son with dislike.
And that's why Edgeworth steps forth as soon as Sirius stops talking. Because he wants to unsettle this man - and, more, because he wants Sirius to stop looking so proper.]
Mr. Black, I think what is true quite depends on what you have heard. If you have been made to understand that Voldemort has been slain, then, indeed, that is true. Beyond that, you should be more specific.
no subject
Date: 2013-11-12 12:20 pm (UTC)He doesn't answer. He just stares at him, long after he's stopped speaking, just long enough so that it feels uncomfortable.
Are you presuming to speak to me? he asks, and his voice is like silk, but the undercurrent of disgust is so strong beneath it.]
no subject
Date: 2013-11-12 01:09 pm (UTC)And so Edgeworth's response to that question is to lift his chin, and meet Orion Black's eyes directly. And his response - to this man who looks at him like he's dirt, who looks at Sirius, his son, like he's dirt - is openly rude.]
Given that I prefaced my comments with your name, I think we can assume so.
no subject
Date: 2013-11-12 06:29 pm (UTC)Funny. Orion smiles, the barest lifting of his lips. He has the same gray eyes as Sirius, but flintier. I addressed my son. And I know you are not my son. You are nothing of mine.
But he cocks his head, just a little, his gaze sliding down Edgeworth, taking in the sight of him. Miles Edgeworth. Correct?]
no subject
Date: 2013-11-12 11:01 pm (UTC)He does look over to Sirius, though, for just a moment. The sight of him still standing stiff and silent and respectful feeds the fire of anger towards this miserable man, and it leads him to answer with more of that curt disrespect. It's an unabashedly Gryffindor sort of thing to do - but he wants to provoke the man, bring him to anger, demonstrate to Sirius that he's...not that cold, inhuman figure in the Black manor's parlor.]
Correct. Miles Edgeworth, who killed Lord Voldemort. And you're Orion Black, who cowtowed to him, correct?
no subject
Date: 2013-11-13 03:39 pm (UTC)Orion doesn't so much as move. Indeed, his smile flicks into place again--not that his face is any warmer for it.
An interesting understanding of the situation, he says, coolly, but I'm afraid your information is rather bad, Miles Edgeworth. I never associated with the wizard who called himself Lord Voldemort. Indeed, I have never-- 'cowtowed' to anyone. I wouldn't know where to start. Perhaps you could demonstrate for us.
He turns away from Edgeworth, dismissive, though he's still speaking to him as he reaches into the interior of his robes. I would, however, be interested to know how you came to be in the position to murder another wizard. My sources provide better information than yours, I think--but there's nothing like hearing it from the hippogriff's mouth, as the saying goes.]
no subject
Date: 2013-11-13 06:35 pm (UTC)What would Sirius want him to say? To tell the truth, or to lie? To defend his position in his family, or to sever it? God, Edgeworth wants the latter. Edgeworth wants to lash out and cut the ties between Sirius and this miserable, cold, rotten man -
But it's not his place. But nor is he going to lie. So.]
I would like to know, sir, what authority you have to question me. Are you assigned to this case?
[Sirius' dad's expression is contemptuous when he looks at Edgeworth again. Blacks deal with Black business. That is our prerogative.]
no subject
Date: 2013-11-13 07:49 pm (UTC)Sirius sees the look on Edgeworth's face, even if his father does not. Murder. Silently, he tries to tell Edgeworth: don't be so careless again, because if Orion sees, then he'll press, he spots weakness better than any hunting hound, and he knows how to use it. And all the while he's thinking: why warn Edgeworth. What does it batter. Black business, that's Sirius' as well, and he turns to his father, finally.]
I'll answer your questions, Father. I saw all of it. And I've already gotten Edgeworth's word that he's not going to claim responsibility for what happened. The Ministry can have their victory.
[That's not exactly what they said, and it was never really agreed upon. But it doesn't matter. It's something, anyways.]
no subject
Date: 2013-11-13 11:45 pm (UTC)[Edgeworth starts to protest that, but then closes his mouth on it. Again, he'd known what he was going to say to the Ministry, to the Aurors alone, but the appearance of Orion Black has complicated things. He'd wanted to tell the truth; that had been what he'd decided; but if he tells the truth in full, there's no question that he'll get Sirius disowned. It's not his right.
Besides, what's the worst thing that might happen? That Orion Black ends up misinformed? No; any man who could transform Sirius' infuriatingly drawling accent into something so proper, so grammar-school, deserves to be kept in the dark.
And when Sirius speaks, all of Orion's attention focuses on him again. There's nothing of approval in his face. There's nothing of affection. Just cold regard.
Then speak. Tell me what happened.]
no subject
Date: 2013-11-14 12:37 pm (UTC)He followed me to the party. I knew he was there when I was about halfway--I thought I could catch him in a trap, but I lost him in the crowd when I arrived. Voldemort was there, with Bellatrix, and her husband, and a few others--we spoke, and Edgeworth revealed himself then. He was going to duel Voldemort.
[His mouth tightens a little. He's not forgotten the ridiculousness of that suggestion, the mocking laughter.]
It was shameful. To Voldemort. [A bold statement, but honour is prized very highly.] It doesn't matter if he's muggle-born, dueling him was beneath Voldemort. He'd have brought shame on his name, except it's an invented name.
no subject
Date: 2013-11-14 03:45 pm (UTC)It's also a version that twists in Edgeworth like a knife. Sirius doesn't think any of what he's saying. Miles knows that, and he knows that Sirius has a perfectly good reason for telling this lie. Yet at the same time, it hurts to hear it, hurts to hear him speaking so clipped and proper about muggle-borns (not mudblood, though; that's something). He wishes he would stop.
But Orion's expression is turning less cold - not by much, just a bit. He asks: And he won against him? A mudblood? I don't think that's likely.]
no subject
Date: 2013-11-14 08:11 pm (UTC)He lifts his chin a little.]
He was set to lose. It was pathetic. [That goes both ways, pathetic on Voldemort's part and Edgeworth's as well--] And then he brought the ceiling down.
[Let it stand alone. He looks back at his father, evenly, and doesn't offer any feeling on that statement. Let it stand alone, and if his father reads it as cheating then he will say so, cast his judgement--if he thinks it at all clever, he'll call it a mudblood trick anyways.]
no subject
Date: 2013-11-14 08:42 pm (UTC)He closes his eyes. If there is anything good to come of this whole affair - beyond Voldemort no longer leading his armies to slaughter innocents; he has to keep that in mind, has to remind himself of that, lest the charge of murder overwhelm him and cripple his conscience - it is that the two of them worked together. It ought to be a powerful symbol: the Muggle-born and the scion of the house Black, the mudblood and the pureblood, working together to put a stop to this tyranny. With the two of them together, it would be impossible to forge the easy narrative - of the pureblood turning on his leader out of jealousy and ambition, of the spiteful member of the underclass turning into a cowardly assassin. With them united, it's something less grotesque.
(Or maybe he just doesn't want to hear all of that from someone he's come to respect.)
Mudblood trickery, then, is Orion's assessment; he turns a contemptuous eye on Miles a moment later, lip curling. He looks so very much like his son, but with familiar features twisted in a way they ought not be, that it makes Edgeworth angry. Edgeworth looks down at his feet, jaw clenched, posture stiff.
Orion speaks to his son again.
And how did you survive?]
no subject
Date: 2013-11-15 07:54 am (UTC)And he's reminded of that, now, under his father's scrutiny--not that he'd ever really forgotten. Sirius looks back at him, as steadily as he can.]
A Shield Charm. [The truth, finally.] I tried to intervene but wasn't able.
[And his father will not ask who it was that saved the muggles--because it was the muggle-born, that's obvious. It would never have been Sirius. He does not look over at Edgeworth but stares forward, resolute.]
no subject
Date: 2013-11-15 03:48 pm (UTC)Perhaps. Edgeworth cannot shake the feeling that it's worse for him. That it would be better if his father did cut all ties - but that's not his place to think, never his place.
Sirius' father is quiet a moment as he studies him. A moment, and then he asks: And how is it that the mudblood was able to follow you?
That's...a bad question, indicates a bad train of thought; Edgeworth steps in with an answer.]
I took the letter of invitation from amongst his things. [Not a lie.] And I read it through.
[Which is a bit too quick. It sounds just a little bit like a defense.]
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:oops pt 1
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From: