Christmas at Windamere

[Sumner Drage]

Having long since dispensed with pleasantries, Sumner Reine's parents had dispersed to opposite sides of Windamere. The boy flung his book aside in disgust at their childish antics. He ran a hand impatiently through his hair, causing the russet strands to stand on end. His brown eyes flicked about the room then narrowed, his mouth peeling back from his teeth in a wolfish smile.

Sharp whistles passed his lips in short succession. "Oh Avery," he singsonged, a quite evil tone leaking into his normally even voice.

 

[Avery Reine]

Avery sulked into the room. Sometimes he really hated his old brother. Their parents may be fooled by his brother's bookworm ways but Avery knew better. He'd often told them that Sumner was really a Slytherin in Ravenclaw robes. They're laughed at him, his dad ruffling his hair and their mum snorting into her nearly empty cup of Sherry.

"What is it now?"

 

[Sumner Drage]

Sumner stood with his back to the window, the fading sunlight haloing his head. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his pressed pants, smirked at his little brother. "You lost. Again." He didn't prevaricate. "Either cough it up or concede to the challenge."

 

[Avery Reine]

The ten year old grimaced but didn't back down. "You know I haven't any money," he muttered, kicking away the family cat who'd made the mistake of butting against his leg. Normally Avery adored the cat but he didn't want it getting hair on his pants. Their mum, even 'indisposed' as she normally was, could spot a speck of dirt meters away. It was maddening to a boy who on his best days was covered with many forms of grime and muck, working on earning more battle scars to compare with his friend every day.

 

[Sumner Drage]

Sumner's lips twisted into a cruel grin. "Then challenge it is," he murmured, his eyes sweeping over the boy. "Midnight. Summer House." His dark eyes warned of retribution if Avery didn't show. He flicked his wrist, checked the time on his watch. "Not long now. Well," he passed his brother, ruffled his hair, knowing full well how Avery hated it, "nice knowing you little bro. Maybe the next one they make will have a chance." His laughter echoed in the room long after he left.

 

[Avery Reine]

Avery flinched from his brother's touch. He stuck his tongue out at his back, his small nose wrinkling in disgust. He hated his brother.

 

[Sumner Drage]

Christmas day started bright and early at Windamere. Sumner was busy liberally spreading jam on his toast while his brother Avery sulked into his weetabix. A smirk spread across his face. "Come come brother dear," he mocked after Avery sent him another withering glare, "I'll be out of your hair within a week. Then you'll have mummy and daddy," he sneered,"all to your dear little self." He felt a twinge of guilt as twin dots of color rose on the boys face. Quickly smothering it, he finished his meal and got up, shoving his chair into the table with unnecessary force.

Hands shoved firmly into jean pockets he left to wander around the arbor outside. It was cold, the ground barren and frozen, not a drop of snow in sight. He would miss being home yet at the same time he craved his freedom from his family. The dark, cold halls of Hogwarts filled him with a sense of purpose, of pride even. His head tucked down, hair falling forward to cover his forehead, he lost himself within thoughts of the Hogwarts in New Zealand he would be transferring to this term.

Sumner's mouth tightened. He had wanted to stay in Scotland and finish out his fourth year there. His father, Demitrius, had something else to say about that. As a muggle politician he'd had to work double the time to cover the tracks of his wizard son's secret school. Which meant now instead of seeing him at the odd family tea time, now he was at work 24/7. The trouble was that secrets could be found out. Aurors had obliviated the nosy new secretary but not before the damage had been done and the orders for his father's transfer were complete and handed out. It had forced them to live out the year in New Zealand while father did business here in the cabinet. Holidays and the odd weekend would see them at Windamere. His eyes were bitter. He'd already forged himself something of a good thing at school. Rarely bothered, a steady spot as beater on the Quidditch team, excellent marks.

His head turned sharply, met his father's through the second story window. He glared viciously before hunching his shoulders against the sharp, cold wind.