𝔳𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔪𝔢 𝔦, 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖎

gentleman callers

The drawing room of the Lestrange Manor was by far the most impressive room throughout the ornate estate.

The ceilings were as high as the heavens, dyed a deep emerald shade with serpent-embossed vaults. There were onyx pillars dotted throughout the room, the same onyx shade as the grand fireplace. Above the large logs of wood hung an ornate silver mirror, in which the hundreds of lavish candlesticks could be seen. Vast windows framed by velvet curtains covered each wall, allowing the sun to glaze the forest leather lounges and bronze-entwined carpet.

Between the footrests and armchairs was a handsome mahogany coffee table. Any other day it would've held a china cup of tea, and maybe a magazine or two. However, by the dawn of an early July morning, it was laden with bouquets of flowers and gifts galore. In fact, the drawing room was positively drowning in them.

One of the side tables was teetering with a Goblin-made tableware set courtesy of Maverick Flint. Two shelves in the room were overflowing with jewelry boxes from both Atlas Parkinson and Callisto Rowle who had almost nearly gotten into a duel over the ideal emerald shade. Three buttoned pouffes had been covered by stacks of gift boxes containing perfumes, sweets, and dresses, all from Rowan Travers, Argo Yaxley, and Theseus Nott.

There was not a lack of gentleman callers, to say the least.

It wasn't even nine o'clock when a third of the pure-blood bachelors in Britain were crowding around the iron-wrought gates of Lestrange Manor. By midday, those approved of by Rodolphus and Rabastan were given the chance to charm Lyra, although none of them managed leave a lasting impression.

Still, she was reminded there were more to come when a house elf scuttled into the drawing room.

''A caller, sir,'' she squeaked. ''Eros Selwyn for Miss Lyra Selene.''

Eros was the eldest out of the four Selwyn sons, and he had the height to show for it. At a striking six foot five, he stalked into the room, passing by Lyra's older brothers as they took their leave.

''Good morning,'' he greeted. ''For you.''

She met his azure blue eyes as took the bundle of roses from him; they were a stark contrast to his dark skin, but not an unpleasant one. Like a true gentleman, he seated himself an appropriate distance from her and kept his gaze lowered.

''The flowers are lovely,'' she smiled.

He nodded appreciatively, gazing around the room in admiration. A few minutes of odd silence ensued, and just as she was about to ask him to leave for fear of boredom, he opened his mouth to speak again.

''The piano. Do you play?''

Lyra glanced over to where his gaze was directed at. In the corner of the drawing room was the colossal musical instrument. It had been in the family for generations, although you wouldn't have been able to tell with the untarnished glossy finish.

''Since I could barely speak,'' she told him. ''Do you?''

Eros shook his head. ''I find it to be more of a feminine past-time. Say, play a symphony for me?''

Lyra raised a perfectly plucked blow at the bold command, but nevertheless obliged. This time, as she walked the length from the lounge to the piano, his gaze wasn't lowered; quite the opposite, in fact, since she felt his eyes boring into her milky skin like a hot poker.

The second her elegant fingers left the black and white keys, Rabastan and Rodolphus were in the room, thanking the Selwyn boy for his time and bidding farewells.

He had barely crossed over the threshold when a different house elf appeared out of thin air by the fireplace.

''Another caller, madam. Hector Greengrass for Miss Lyra Selene.''

Hector was the sole heir to the Greengrass fortune, an attribute which both Lyra and Rodolphus greatly appreciated. He was well-built, if not a little stocky, and had fair hair and freckles.

''Good morning,'' he chirped. ''I have requested the gift be brought up straight to your sleeping chambers — a Goblin-made trunk.''

''Thank you. How . . . creative.''

She was slightly discerned by his choice of gift, but could overlook the minor flaw in exchange for a lifetime supply of Galleons all to herself. Like Eros, he seated himself at the other end of the chaise lounge, bobbing his knee up and down.

''I do the same,'' she noticed. ''In exams, especially.''

''I'm beyond relieved I no longer have to sit an exam for as long as I live,'' he chuckled. ''If you think OWLs are a pain, wait until your NEWTs.''

''I have not done my OWLs yet,'' she admitted, frowning. ''I am to start my fifth year after this summer.''

Hector raised an eyebrow, but stayed silent on the matter of his age. Either he wasn't expecting her to be so young, or was hoping this to be the case — Lyra couldn't tell with some men these days.

After a pleasant conversation about his budding career in the Ministry of Magic and haberdashery, the Greengrass man took his leave. He was nice enough, the brunette decided, but she felt he would get very boring very quickly.

An hour passed and Rabastan and Rodolphus were nowhere to be found when another house elf came into the room, slightly out of breath.

''The last caller of the day, madam. Regulus Black for Miss Lyra Selene.''

Surely, the dim creature had to be mistaken. Regulus Black, younger than her Regulus Black, was one of the gentleman callers?

''Lyra Selene,'' he greeted, holding a small crate in his hands. ''Good afternoon.''

''Regulus,'' she nodded. A small smile adorned her rosy lips as she attempted to conceal her surprise. ''Lyra is just fine.''

''Forgive me, force of habit from my mother.''

''You are forgiven. Say, have you seen my brothers by any chance?''

''Yes, Rodolphus and Rabastan were at the gates when I came in. Abraxas Malfoy was loitering around the estate, demanding to speak with you — they had to jinx him to leave.''

''Abraxas Malfoy,'' she laughed. ''Whatever could he want with me?''

''I have not the faintest idea,'' Regulus frowned, although he could take a good guess; there were many nasty rumours about the Malfoy patriarch, most of which held some weight of truth to them. ''For you.''

He thrust forward the crate he held. Lyra slowly took it from him, cautiously setting it down on the cushion of a free armchair. It gave a small wobble before the latch clicked open and out stumbled a tiny little thing.

It had a long snout which shone in the afternoon sunlight, and a thick coat of black, fluffy fur.

A Niffler.

Regulus gauged her reaction nervously; a pet was a gamble to gift to a lady, especially one like Lyra. To his surprise, she reached out a hand hesitantly, allowing the creature to sniff her scent. Once she was deemed acceptable, it let out a delighted giggle-like squeak, nuzzling against the palm of her hand and pawing at the glamorous stones encrusting her fingers.

''I must say, I did not expect an odder gift than a trunk, but you outdid yourself,'' she congratulated, scooping the Niffler into her arms. ''I like it.''

''I'm glad you do,'' he breathed a sigh of relief; Walburga nearly had his head for the suggestion, but Orion fought his corner. ''Do you have a name in mind?''

''I have an extensive list for children, but none for Nifflers,'' she laughed, thinking for a moment. ''How about . . . Pistachio?''

''I'd think Pistachio to be an excellent name for a little one,'' Regulus joked. ''Wouldn't you agree?''

Lyra shook her head good-naturedly. Although she had never spoken to Regulus before, she hadn't expected conversation to flow so easily with him. They had been in the same friend group at school for years, but as her and Alecto were the only girls, she either kept to herself or spoke to the redhead.

''My children will be named after the stars, I would imagine. I do like the sound of anything astrological.''

''So will mine. It's a tradition in my family. Sirius is a star in the constellation Canis Major, and Bellatrix is a star in the constellation of Orion.''

''And Regulus is the name of a star in the Leo constellation,'' she hummed. ''It must be true, then; our pure-blood parents do have a fixation with foreign languages and the sky.''

''They must do. My mother demanded Dumbledore allowed me to come home most weekends during my first two years at Hogwarts to continue my Greek studies — its how I know Selene translates to the moon.''

''I do not even think Rabastan and Rodolphus are aware of the fact, despite their own Greek studies,'' Lyra admitted, allowing Pistachio to climb onto her shoulder.

As if their names had been jinxed, Rabastan and Rodolphus waltzed through the double doors that led into the drawing room. They didn't look surprised to see Regulus and Lyra getting on so well; in fact, the two exchanged a smirk that went unnoticed.

''Regulus, Orion is here for you. He is waiting in the foyer, best to not keep him waiting,'' Rabastan announced, before frowning once he noticed the pet playing with a coil of his sisters hair. ''Lyra, what is that?''

''A Niffler,'' she told her brother matter-of-factly, curtsying gracefully to Regulus as he left and waiting until he was out of earshot to speak. ''One that I will not allow you to practice your Unforgivables on, Rabastan.''