Post by Peyton James on Jul 30, 2015 12:04:51 GMT -6
Peyton entered the library though it's double doors. It was late in the evening and a few straggling bookworms could be seen in the back of the library pouring over books and writing feverishly on parchment. Peyton rolled his eyes, this was not his scene. He had received and owl that morning over breakfast and he was to meet his aunt here this evening. He looked to his left and saw a door inscribed with the words, "L. Reminesi, Office." He walked over to the door and knocked loudly. "Come in" came a muffled female voice from the other side of the door. He opened the door and closed it behind himself as soon as he was on the other side.
Leandra had been writing an incredibly important and private letter, upon seeing the young man who had entered her office she slipped the papers into a desk drawer and clasped her hands on the desk top. "How may I help you?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You summoned me, remember?" Peyton said angrily, taking the seat opposite the desk without being asked to. He slouched down so that he was more comfortable. He thought about putting his feet on her desk, but thought better. Best not disturb her temper further at the moment.
"Ah," Realization dawned on her face, "You must be Peyton, Octavius's son." She purred. So this was the poisonous fruit from a fling that her younger brother had had? He was definitely graced with the good looks of the Reminesi's. And from what research Leandra had done on him he had inherited a few of their traits as well. An affinity for quidditch and divination. She herself was the only metamorphagus in a couple generations.
"Don't. Don't call me his son." Peyton said through gritted teeth. His father was merely a sperm donor in his eyes. His mother, Delilah James was the only parent that he had really ever known. His Octavius had stopped in from time to time, as did his uncles - always showering him with expensive gifts an such. In fact, up until this year he had only ever been taught by private tutors paid for by the Riminesi's. Why his mother had EVER had anything to do with the family was beyond him, but he figured it has something to do with good looks an copious amounts of alcohol. She (Delilah) did remind him often to never anger his father or his family though she didn't exactly explain why. She just dropped hints here and there. But he got the idea that they were powerful, possibly dark, and somewhat of a mob-like family.
"Whether you like it or not, he is your father. Your middle name is his first for Merlin's sake! Though I see your mother decided to give you her surname. I'm most thankful for that one. Nobody should associate myself with you. I'm Leandra." Her voice was low, she didn't want any prying ears to hear her speaking with her nephew. She was acting on orders from Primo who had passed them through Dante, per usual. "Has anyone informed you of what your - our - family is capable of? What our history is?"
"No, they haven't. I've lived my life with my mother being showered in gifts though. So I have my own assumptions." He smirked.
"And they are?"
"Obviously rich. And since I've been told that half the family is hanging out in Azkaban for various crimes against others, I'm assuming they're dark wizards. With the wealth I'm wondering if they family isn't something like a mob.Perhaps even powerful, at least in Italy." He was sarcastic about the whole ordeal. He knew just enough, he thought. He wasn't sure he wanted to know more, but he knew that somehow he would have to know more. He was an 18 year old male...There was something bigger on the horizon than his own plans.
"Something like it, yes. I do believe you have guessed quite a bit from your limited interactions with the family." She gave him a cat-like smile. Leandra didn't take much pleasure in dealing with her nephew. She merely had to prepare him for what would be expected from him now that he was old enough. The same things that had been expected of her all her life. They were expected of her now even as she warred with herself about a certain member of the staff. "Anyway, I cannot give you much information, for now. I will tell you that will begin being summoned or owled for various...activities and in time you will understand and you will know your place. Unfortunately, you'll have no choice. You're apart of this family and you have to do you part or be prepared for the consequences."
Peyton let the words slowly sink in. This was not what he had signed up for or what he has bargained for. All because his mother couldn't keep her dress down? He would have to "play nice" or "play bad" as the case was? He cracked his knuckles, "Seriously? No effing choice at all?"
"No, none." Leandra's voice was even lower, perhaps betraying a little more emotion than she would have liked.
"Fine. Whatever. I suppose I'll be another of the family's stupid lapdogs. But I don't know if I buy into this whole pureblood mess even if it has been shoved down my throat my whole life." He spat.
Leandra understood the boy's anger far more than she could admit, but you couldn't choose who your family was. And hers was his - they were both trapped. "Pure is better, Peyton. And you'll do as you're told. Now, please leave. I have things to do. If you need to contact me - send an owl, but do so from town." She stood up and went directly to her door, opening it before he could even stand up. "I'll try to look through the library for those books, Mr. James. Check back with me in a few days. In the meantime you might continue your own search." She said a bit loudly, smiling.
Peyton stood, glaring at his Aunt Leandra as he swept from her office. "Goodbye Aunt Leandra." He whispered as he passed by her. "Thank you, Ms. Riminesi." He smirked, leaving the library.
Leandra had been writing an incredibly important and private letter, upon seeing the young man who had entered her office she slipped the papers into a desk drawer and clasped her hands on the desk top. "How may I help you?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You summoned me, remember?" Peyton said angrily, taking the seat opposite the desk without being asked to. He slouched down so that he was more comfortable. He thought about putting his feet on her desk, but thought better. Best not disturb her temper further at the moment.
"Ah," Realization dawned on her face, "You must be Peyton, Octavius's son." She purred. So this was the poisonous fruit from a fling that her younger brother had had? He was definitely graced with the good looks of the Reminesi's. And from what research Leandra had done on him he had inherited a few of their traits as well. An affinity for quidditch and divination. She herself was the only metamorphagus in a couple generations.
"Don't. Don't call me his son." Peyton said through gritted teeth. His father was merely a sperm donor in his eyes. His mother, Delilah James was the only parent that he had really ever known. His Octavius had stopped in from time to time, as did his uncles - always showering him with expensive gifts an such. In fact, up until this year he had only ever been taught by private tutors paid for by the Riminesi's. Why his mother had EVER had anything to do with the family was beyond him, but he figured it has something to do with good looks an copious amounts of alcohol. She (Delilah) did remind him often to never anger his father or his family though she didn't exactly explain why. She just dropped hints here and there. But he got the idea that they were powerful, possibly dark, and somewhat of a mob-like family.
"Whether you like it or not, he is your father. Your middle name is his first for Merlin's sake! Though I see your mother decided to give you her surname. I'm most thankful for that one. Nobody should associate myself with you. I'm Leandra." Her voice was low, she didn't want any prying ears to hear her speaking with her nephew. She was acting on orders from Primo who had passed them through Dante, per usual. "Has anyone informed you of what your - our - family is capable of? What our history is?"
"No, they haven't. I've lived my life with my mother being showered in gifts though. So I have my own assumptions." He smirked.
"And they are?"
"Obviously rich. And since I've been told that half the family is hanging out in Azkaban for various crimes against others, I'm assuming they're dark wizards. With the wealth I'm wondering if they family isn't something like a mob.Perhaps even powerful, at least in Italy." He was sarcastic about the whole ordeal. He knew just enough, he thought. He wasn't sure he wanted to know more, but he knew that somehow he would have to know more. He was an 18 year old male...There was something bigger on the horizon than his own plans.
"Something like it, yes. I do believe you have guessed quite a bit from your limited interactions with the family." She gave him a cat-like smile. Leandra didn't take much pleasure in dealing with her nephew. She merely had to prepare him for what would be expected from him now that he was old enough. The same things that had been expected of her all her life. They were expected of her now even as she warred with herself about a certain member of the staff. "Anyway, I cannot give you much information, for now. I will tell you that will begin being summoned or owled for various...activities and in time you will understand and you will know your place. Unfortunately, you'll have no choice. You're apart of this family and you have to do you part or be prepared for the consequences."
Peyton let the words slowly sink in. This was not what he had signed up for or what he has bargained for. All because his mother couldn't keep her dress down? He would have to "play nice" or "play bad" as the case was? He cracked his knuckles, "Seriously? No effing choice at all?"
"No, none." Leandra's voice was even lower, perhaps betraying a little more emotion than she would have liked.
"Fine. Whatever. I suppose I'll be another of the family's stupid lapdogs. But I don't know if I buy into this whole pureblood mess even if it has been shoved down my throat my whole life." He spat.
Leandra understood the boy's anger far more than she could admit, but you couldn't choose who your family was. And hers was his - they were both trapped. "Pure is better, Peyton. And you'll do as you're told. Now, please leave. I have things to do. If you need to contact me - send an owl, but do so from town." She stood up and went directly to her door, opening it before he could even stand up. "I'll try to look through the library for those books, Mr. James. Check back with me in a few days. In the meantime you might continue your own search." She said a bit loudly, smiling.
Peyton stood, glaring at his Aunt Leandra as he swept from her office. "Goodbye Aunt Leandra." He whispered as he passed by her. "Thank you, Ms. Riminesi." He smirked, leaving the library.
