Shades of Silver and Black

Chapter 83 | season's greeting, hope you're well

Then, she spun on her bare feet and exited the balcony and her room, stepping onto the array of woollen rugs that had been matted on the hallways and intending to witness the theatrics that would no doubt unfold herself.

As she strolled down the long hallway, Lyra spotted Charlus in the distance, stepping out of his private study. She quickened her pace to catch up to him.

His face was flushed and he looked disconcerted and groggy, still dressed in the baby blue robes and casual attire he had been wearing last night. His already unruly hair was now matted, sticking up at all angles while shadows hung from his eyes and creases were present on his forehead.

"Good morning, Uncle Charlus," Lyra greeted pleasantly when she was beside him, cocking her head to one side and grinning.

Charlus yawned loudly, holding up a finger to shush her before using a palm to cover his mouth. The lack of pureblood propriety, which had been drilled into him as a child so much that it became natural, spoke volumes of the exhaustion that slowly seeped into the lines on his face. Charlus shook his head and blinked a few times, sniffing his nose. It was then that he acknowledged her existence. "Oh, hi Lyra. Had breakfast yet?"

"I'm on my way now," she replied, adding, "Brushed your teeth yet?"

"I'm on my way now," Charlus echoed, sniffling again and proceeded to chortle until he dissolved into a coughing fit. Lyra laughed at his words before taking to observing his tired demeanour.

Lyra knew her godmother had placed a bed in Charlus' study to encourage him to take frequent naps between work and she was also aware of how he had barricaded himself in his study soon after dinner. The question left her mouth before she could stop it. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

"If Dorea asks, I did." Was Charlus' response before a yawn escaped his mouth.

"Tough day preparing for the Wizengamot?" Lyra asked him knowingly. After all, the sessions were scheduled to resume on the second day of January, which was only four days away.

"With idiots disguising themselves as politicians, what else can it be?" Charlus grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes while sniffing his nose again.

There were two bills due to be introduced on the day it opened, one from the light and the other from the neutral tier of the Wizengamot, the latter of which Charlus was currently sacrificing his sleep and time for to polish the bill and make it as loophole-free as he could.

No longer obligated to keep up with the messes of the Wizengamot, Lyra had mostly tuned out the discussion at dinner the previous night when Charlus had expressed his frustrations regarding the bills to the rest of the occupants at the dinner table, but she gathered that it was connected to setting up magical orphanages due to the skyrocketing amount of parentless children or parents who were mistreating their children, the numbers increasing thanks to the war.

"Ah," Lyra intoned sympathetically before hugging him. "Good luck."

Charlus lightly shivered. "Thank you, I'll need it."

"You need to apply some skin potions, by the way," Lyra said when she stepped back. "Your skin is really rough. As is James and Sirius."

"Winter does do that," Charlus reminded, chuckling as he pulled the collar of his robes closer and slipped his hands into its pockets. "It'll pass. Me having rough skin is no biggie."

"I'll be sure to convey your response to Aunt Dorea."

"Then again, having smooth skin is very important," Charlus hastily spoke with a sombre note in his tone. "I'll ask Fleamont to create some sort of potion which will give permanently smooth skin instantly."