Sine from Above {George Weasley}

Chapter 1; The Invitation

It was another typical day of summer break at home in Wiltshire. My mother was preparing supper in the kitchen along with the assistance of our house-elf, Rabdey, as we were awaiting the return of my father from work at the Ministry.

I lounged by the fire, responding to my friend's letters from the recent weeks. The majority of my friends were spending their summer months on lavish vacations, places such as Paris, Vienna, and Punta Mita. Such privileged downtime was one of the many perks of a wealthy family, which Slytherin house was overflowing with.

Just as I was sealing my return letter to Daphne Greengrass the hearth of our fireplace began to illuminate green and rumble, signaling my father was returning home. With a gust of wind and smoke of ash, my father came dropping in, waving his hands in front of his face and coughing during the landing.

"Ugh, I despise the Floo Network, they need to find a more cleanly way for us to pop in and out," he complains, as he steps out of the chimney, dusting his suit off.

My mother points the carving knife in her hand in my father's general direction as he shudders, "you really should stop complaining dear, you mustn't forget that some folks flush themselves in."

"Oh yes, how could I have forgotten that damned way in," he removes his overcoat and hands it to me, I pat it off even more and hang it on the nearby clothes rack.

"What's for supper love, I am famished. Amos Diggory had a wretched smelling lunch today that made me lose my appetite in an instant, so I haven't eaten since breakfast in the sunroom this morning."

"Pot roast is being prepared sir, with sides of stew and dumplings," replied Rabdey, "would sir like his pre-supper drink?"

"Yes Rabdey, thank you, and Melanie will have hers as well," my father gestures to me to return to my original seat on the chaise.

Rabdey handed my mother the last slab of roast to cut and scurried over to the bar cart in the corner of our kitchen. He selected two crystal glasses and a bottle of Elderflower wine, looking back at me to see how many cubes of ice I wanted in mine. I held up three fingers and he nodded, delicately placing three of them in the glass that would be mine. My father always made fun of me for putting ice in all of my beverages but I wasn't much of a drinker and needed most of my glasses watered down.

"Have you heard from a Mr. Langdon by chance with all of those?" my father inquired, noticing the pieces of half-read parchment I had strewn everywhere.

"His family owl just dropped something off for me this morning, I haven't gotten around to opening it yet," I gestured to the parcel that I had placed at the foot of the chaise, "I was going to respond to his last. I haven't heard from the little shite in almost a month and a half so I figured he can sweat a response out for a bit."

My father let out a quick chuckle as Rabdey came around with our drinks, he took his wine from the small elf's outreached hand and winked, "ah, I see I taught you well, never cater to a man, even the most gentlemanly, as you deserve the most urgent of attention."

I grasped my frosty glass and took a slow sip, "with the Quidditch World Cup fast approaching I assume it's an invite to attend with his family." I glance up over the rim of my drink, observing my father's reaction.

He meets my gaze with a slight pondering expression, "and I would assume you are correct. Why don't you spare the boy a week's worth of waiting for a reply and see what's inside?"

Following his suggestion, Rabdey handed me the package from my best friend. The gift box was painted red and gold, a peculiar choice seeing as how those were Gryffindor colors. I swiftly untied the string holding it together and held up what lay inside, a gift that I can only assume his wonderous mother made just for me. A shiny and completely covered in sparkles, Bulgarian National Quidditch Team, Viktor Krum jersey.