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marginaliana, who prompted me with "Bunter" and "storytelling." 200 words.
Come Again, That I May Cease to Mourn
When Bunter first sets eyes on Teddy Lupin, he momentarily thinks senility has overtaken his mind: Lord Peter has been dead for over thirty years, and none of his descendants have inherited the famous Wimsey hands. To see Teddy gesture with them as he tells a story about his "uncle" Draco, his hair blond and an odd smile on his lips -- it reminds Bunter of a thousand evenings at Tallboys, his lordship deftly weaving together strands of Donne and strains of Dowland with his own clever, fluent nonsense to entertain the children and enchant her ladyship.
Those had been magical years, in the Muggle sense of the word. Bunter had known he missed them, but seeing Teddy makes him realise how deeply he misses having a proper audience for his skills. As Teddy’s hands cast entrancing shadows on the walls -- here a rabbit, there a kneazle -- Bunter makes some inquiries.
When Teddy finally Floos home, Bunter's in the library, waiting. He immediately whisks the soot off of Teddy’s robes and hands him a mug of hot chocolate.
"Thank you," Teddy murmurs. "I see the stories about you are true."
"I look forward to verifying the ones about you," Bunter replies.
marginaliana, who prompted me with "Bunter" and "storytelling." 200 words.Come Again, That I May Cease to Mourn
When Bunter first sets eyes on Teddy Lupin, he momentarily thinks senility has overtaken his mind: Lord Peter has been dead for over thirty years, and none of his descendants have inherited the famous Wimsey hands. To see Teddy gesture with them as he tells a story about his "uncle" Draco, his hair blond and an odd smile on his lips -- it reminds Bunter of a thousand evenings at Tallboys, his lordship deftly weaving together strands of Donne and strains of Dowland with his own clever, fluent nonsense to entertain the children and enchant her ladyship.
Those had been magical years, in the Muggle sense of the word. Bunter had known he missed them, but seeing Teddy makes him realise how deeply he misses having a proper audience for his skills. As Teddy’s hands cast entrancing shadows on the walls -- here a rabbit, there a kneazle -- Bunter makes some inquiries.
When Teddy finally Floos home, Bunter's in the library, waiting. He immediately whisks the soot off of Teddy’s robes and hands him a mug of hot chocolate.
"Thank you," Teddy murmurs. "I see the stories about you are true."
"I look forward to verifying the ones about you," Bunter replies.