Theodore wasn’t sure why Lestrange’s indifference, or this - the perching up here smoking cigarettes - was aggravating him so intensely, but it was. He wouldn’t care if Cassius Lestrange did this on his own time, on his family’s own grounds - obviously, Theo wouldn’t have any business to - but leaving the practice to fizzle out on the sour note it had, skulking off here by himself now was his problem, because it was the Cannons’ problem. And the last thing he needed was for the Cannons to implode before his eyes.
Not that Theo had ever asked to have these problems, but.
He sniffed and leant against a wooden beam with the seeker in view. “So what’s your problem?” He asked more fairly, with less bite. “Is there something or just -” he shrugged his shoulders and threw a hand up in an abstract wave, “- bad day?”
Not that Theo had ever asked to have these problems, but.
He sniffed and leant against a wooden beam with the seeker in view. “So what’s your problem?” He asked more fairly, with less bite. “Is there something or just -” he shrugged his shoulders and threw a hand up in an abstract wave, “- bad day?”
