| Ramora
Join Date: Sep 2007 Location: Merlin Foresaken PST
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Mordred 
Mordred slightly raised both of his brows at the boy. “Merlin…you chew like a goat.” He smirked and shook his head. If the boy was Ethan—his younger cousin, he would already have lectured him about manners…and chewing gum. People often use it to mask their being coward, based on his observation as he accompanied his father these past two years. Both of his parents are accomplished aurors, and Mordred knew that he was about to follow the same path as his parents. That course shifted though, after his mother’s death. Aldrich Mordaunt did not want his only son to tread the dangerous path. Albeit his son’s protests, he stood firm with his decision and forced Mordred to study something else. The son, understanding his own father’s grief bowed down and studied dragons, instead. It offered the same action and adventure he craved, and decided to pursue that career further.
But, wait. What did he say? His father’s name? Mordred blinked, and shifted his weight from his left foot to his right. “This is really, really weird.” There can be no way that this kid is a Mordaunt. His father won’t mind, but his late mother would be appalled. The way this child carries himself around is nowhere near how Mordred was raised. His father, uncles and grandfather all shared the highest form of upbringing…except for one uncle, though Aldred never showed his wild side whenever his father was around. “…do I know him? Because I’m a Mordaunt.” Mordred tilted his head further examining the child and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
He shifted his stare from the child…to the woman who called out the kid’s name. “Cutty Mordaunt. That…doesn’t ring a bell. At all.” He examined the woman this time, all stressed and worked up over the boy’s mess. “A rascal, I see. I wonder if he’s adopted.” Because there was no way Mordred will make a mess and shame his own mother in front of anyone.
Mordred stepped up and helped the woman as she started picking up Cutty’s belongings. “He didn’t do anything, ma’am.” He said and glanced over to where Cutty was sitting. Mordred then saw the ends of the boy’s winter scarf that was caught in his closed and most probably over-stuffed trunk that he was sitting on. Silver and green. “A Slytherin.” He murmured and looked at the boy. “Well…that’s saying something…” He was…worried.
Oh, oh thank Merlin! Soheir's thoughts were of relief as she realized Cutty had not destroyed this man's property or any some such thing. A good thing, since the agreed-upon amount of galleons Adonis Mordaunt was meant to have sent at the beginning of the month hadn't yet arrived. It was still the beginning of the month and they would've had time, but she hated spending money before she had it and her job at the travel agency wasn't enough. She needed a better one, but what's a hoodwinker to do?
They seemed to have been discussing names from the man's comment. And the man was apparently a wizard and familiar enough with the houses that he could spot the silver and green of her old house.
" Probably not." Cutty began working out the wad of bubblegum. " He's not from around here." But to be honest, Cutty wasn't extremely familiar with the Mordaunts beyond his father, one aunt who had married, and his grandparents. For all he knew they could've migrated many years ago from Great Britain (and in fact, they did). If this man was called Mordaunt, then perhaps there was no invisible friend. The boy noted that the man called Mordaunt didn't seem to be acknowledging anyone else since the initiation of their conversation. Probably, he had been talking to himself...OUTLOUD! Cutty hid his smirk with his bubblegum chewing because he was a rat fink.
Soheir had begun to try and stuff the loose piece of the scarf into the luggage but it was a lot trickier to do without the use of magic. Finally, she gave up and in her gradual regaining of her cool she realized what else the man had said. "Trust me, I've often thought he might have been a changeling. No, unfortunately, he's mine." She wasn't blind to his mischievousness, but she never could solve it and that was a little embarrassing. "His father is from Canada, but I'm not sure, he might be English. That is interesting, however. I don't meet that many Mordaunts."
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