Welcome Home

[Tristan Drage]

Cramming the last of his cookie in his mouth, Tristan brushed the crumbs from his hands on his jeans. The doorknob turned with a flick of his wand. "Here you are." The windows overlooked a backyard wrapped in winter, sunlight piercing frigid glass and spilling over a desk and a decent sized bed. A Falmouth Falcons poster was stuck fast to the wall, a moving picture of the '92 team dominating the field. He smirked as one of the team's beaters whacked a Cannon player in the face. He'd forgotten he had that poster until he met Sumner, and had made a return trip to his father's home to dig it out of some old boxes. "Feel free to do with it as you please; I'm not an expert at decorating by any means. It's all yours," Tristan said, grinning madly.

 

[Sumner Drage]

Sumner followed Tristan to the room. "Wow. This is-" he trailed off, sticking his hands in his pockets as he turned, mouth slightly open, taking it all in. He walked over to the poster and chuckled. "Ha! Right in his stupid face. You should've seen our last match, dad." Unconsciously the word just slipped out, as if he'd always known him and he had always been his father. The room being set up with him in mind and the awesome quidditch poster had set him at ease. "Cool. I like how it is."

He looked at his dad and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Look, thanks for inviting me here." He was going to say more but stopped. He didn't want to lay such a heavy trip on his dad. Sumner would figure out what to do later; he wouldn't spoil the holiday with his messed up situation.

 

[Tristan Drage]

Tristan could only grin at Sumner. How could he ever have doubted this kid was his son? The similarities between them were nothing but spooky. "Yeah, that guy had a good run. Too bad he's retired now; he was one of the best beaters the Falcons have ever seen. Best in the league, if I may say," he started.

Scratching at his chin, he said, "No problem, Sumner. Your home is my home. It's the least I can do." He'd missed out on a good deal of his son's life, and did not want to miss out on any more. "How did your last game go? You won, of course?" The last time he'd met with Sumner, he'd been told that Ravenclaw had dominated all of the games last year. He couldn't really expect anything less this time around.

 

[Sumner Drage]

Sumner felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, his chest felt lighter. He nodded, smiling easily with the older man. "Our last match?" Sumner went into a detailed play by play, his voice and face animated as he recalled bludgers and goals. He told him how bludger after bludger had barraged him, breaking his wrist, his ribs, damn near cracking his skull. Then about how he'd been benched and sheepishly he told his dad how he'd cussed out the ref.

"We lost the match, to Hufflepuff," he said the name in disgust. "But the game play was awesome." He picked up an old battered baseball and tossing it lightly from hand to hand, looked out the window. "You should've seen Lily. She's the best captain out there. The way she flies-," he trailed off, something passing over his face, unknowingly showing his father exactly how he felt for the older Ravenclaw.

 

[Tristan Drage]

"You swore at the ref?" Tristan laughed, his voice booming as he listened to Sumner recount the game. "M'boy, you're a true Falcon indeed. Just be careful what you say about this Kiriakis bloke's mother; you don't want to get kicked off the team for the rest of the season!" The older man had seen this happen to many a good Quidditch player during his school years. He'd been lucky not to be removed from the team entirely.

The taller of the two snorted. "Well, you can't win every game I suppose. Keep up the good play; Huff n' Schnuff isn't going to win the championship." Tristan's attention wandered out the window to the snowflakes taking their sweet time and back to his son. "Be careful with the Quidditch players. They're the most vicious of all." He smiled, knowing that Sumner was a smart boy and would be able to handle whatever was thrown at him.

 

[Sumner Drage]

Sumner joined in the laughter, happy his dad shared something so monumental in his life. He nodded his head. "Yeah I know. I don't want to be kicked off." It'd ruin his life, he thought, especially seeing as how he wanted to go pro. He thought of Lily. Maybe he could talk to Tristan about it. He'd never had that, growing up. Another guy to listen to him, to give him maybe some advice, a new perspective on something. "Listen, dad, can I talk to you? It's about this girl-," he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.

 

[Tristan Drage]

Tristan nodded. "Of course. What about this girl?" He yanked the chair from the desk, turning it about and seating himself in one smooth movement. It was strange, having a teenage son. Despite the jokes he was able to crack and the lewd comments that flew off his tongue, he knew a serious conversation when he heard one. He gave Sumner his full attention. He reminded himself that while he could be a friend, the young man was still his kid.

 

[Sumner Drage]

Sumner cracked a small smile, grateful for his dad's willingness to listen to him. This was new territory for him, he'd never had an older male figure to talk to about his problems. He should be wary about this new place, about his new family, but they put him at ease. He hadn't met any of them yet that he didn't like or would come to trust. Tossing the ball up, he slowly paced back and forth. "You see, I like her. A lot. But we're friends and should only remain friends." Confusion was clear upon his face and in his voice. "We've been fooling around though. Around the castle. I uh," he laughed rather weakly, wondering how his dad would react to what he'd say, "I got caught with her in my room." He snorted, tossing the ball high as he recounted the now funny tale to his dad, with the headmistress coming in and busting them red handed.

"She's got me so confused! I like her but we both told each other we're just friends...who fool around. I'm scared that if we do, uh, well, ya know, that we won't be friends anymore."

 

[Tristan Drage]

Tristan had anticipated this to be a short discussion; he was very wrong. Not that he didn't enjoy it. Despite the tone of the discussion, he felt he was really bonding with his son. After seventeen years of not knowing Sumner, giving advice on a rather sensitive subject was the least he could do. He was reminded that he was a father, and that he had responsibilities to his children. He could never give Sumner back the time they had lost. While he might not be able to completely make amends with his son, he was glad they had found each other at the right place and right time.