Spellbound

This week has been fucking exhausting. He'd been consuling all week and dealing with a threat over in Norway. Somebody trying to brew mind control potions, again. Why couldn't everybody just get along and stop fussing? He's finally back home, in England, heading up the wizarding council while they go over worldwide news, and he gets an invite - no, it isn't that. It's more of a demand, from King Pendragon.

He's a bit tired, really, and didn't feel like dealing with it. "Not now, thank you. Politely decline, for me?" He told the runner. "Send him some magical candy."

He just wanted to go home and finish his book, thank you. He didn't ask for these powers, but if he took a holiday the world would flip out. People held him in high regard for some reason - he wasn't that wise, or old. He was just a young man trying to do right. Yet somehow the King was demanding his presence.