Chapter 717 - Mulciber Matchmaking Ⅱ (1/2)
Waiting at the floo hearth is the handsome figure of Mulciber Sr. despite his years. The still somewhat golden hair is elegantly pulled back showcasing attractive features that caused many a witch's hearts to flutter and yearn for the tender affections of the proud pureblood. Dressed immaculately, and set to impress, he coolly peers at his firstborn, who had been cast off for his existence as that of a squib.
Mulciber Sr. suppresses a sneer, but his lips still lightly curl with a bit of disdain. ”You are late,” he crisply remarked to his firstborn.
”We both know that I am not,” Peregrine matter-of-factly countered. ”In fact, I am early,” and gestured to the golden pocket watch that he had removed from his waistcoat. ”There are still five minutes left until the hour.”
Mulciber Sr. eyes flicker with some measure of approval, before turning to the floo hearth. ”I elected to floo considering your lack of MAGIC,” Mucliber Sr. said as though he had acted out of kindness rather than interest. ”You may proceed first,” he magnanimously gestured to the fireplace.
”Thank you for your consideration, Father,” Peregrine drily said, before stepping forth up the mantelpiece and removing sparkling dust, Floo Powder. Tossing the sparling power into the hearth, the flames begin to roar and rise turning green. ”Benedict Greengrass Manor,” he said, before stepping into the flames and whirling away. The sensation was akin to being flushed down the drain with countless twists and turns as voices and faces appear only to instantly vanish.
By the time, Peregrine emerged he had been to feel a bit faint as he emerged into the exquisitely styled manor. Taking a moment to steady himself, Peregrine pressed a hand to lean against the mantel for a moment, before taking a deep breath and stepping back. His father would appear any moment, and he could not afford any show of weakness before him.
Straightening up, Peregrine turned away and began to take in the sight before him. The great hall was elegantly furnished in tasteful colors ranging from greens to earthy tones. The Persian carpet had exquisite gold thread embroidery that of hawks in flight. A subtle hint to the Veela heritage that this Greengrass branch possessed.
A soft cough garners Peregrine's attention pulling his gaze towards an older house elf with salt-peppered eyebrows. The male house elves face is lined with some wrinkles and deep honey-colored eyes. The male house elf's ears are bat-like with a tiny golden earing at the tip of one ear as a fashion statement. The house elf wears a silk white house elf tunic, a dark blue coat with embroidered golden hawks on the back, and a pair of comfortable, but fine leather sandals.
Before Peregrine can speak, the hearth roars behind him with green flames as the figure of Mulciber Sr. confidently emerged from the flames. With a faint murmur, the soot disappears from his person as he fixes his calculating gaze upon the house elf. ”Elf, lead us,” he ordered as he stepped forward to be led by the house elf.
”Jarrey leads the way for the Mulciber father and son,” muttered the house elf with a proper bow before leading the way to the nearby parlor room where the Greengrass family awaits.
Peregrine follows closely after his father and the house elf as he studies the elegant home that had many decorations of golden hawks in flight and some French taste in décor. Not overly lavish, but tasteful in its décor with a hint of warmth. He did not have many memories of the Greengrass family, but he did recall meeting the beautiful, but elderly matriarch with hawk-like eyes in his childhood. There was something wild about her that did not resemble anything remotely akin to that of a witch, but then again, she was a Veela.