Krause Residence
Manchester, England

The redheaded teenager wrinkled his nose at the state of his garb. There had to be a spell that prevented soot from accumulating on clothing, there just had to be. Unfortunately, in all his years of traveling via the Floo Network, Kirby Krause had not come across such a charm.

The Krause house was neither mansion nor manor. In fact, it was on the small side- practical, considering the only denizens were Felix, Kirby, and an Old English Sheepdog called Jackson. Nevertheless, it was always tidy and well-decorated. Pictures of both magic and muggle variety were displayed all around the house, and the decor favoured the colour blue.

Coming from his mother and stepfather’s home in London, Kirby had only appeared in his father’s fireplace about twenty minutes ago, and despite the soot, had been enveloped in one of his old man’s bear hugs. It was sort of an odd sight, as Mr. Krause was significantly shorter than his son, but it was still reciprocated in kind. The elder Krause eventually released his son, and as the boy began to climb the stairs to his room, he called out that the Klints, family friends of theirs, were slated to visit. Felix hadn’t specified which Klints, or when they would arrive, so Kirby was taking his time, meticulously brushing the soot away from his jeans.

His bedroom was clean, but the walls were covered with all sorts of art prints, clippings, and other various things the boy found interesting. It was so cluttered, one couldn’t rightly say what colour the room was painted, although it was very active. The models in stylistic photo shoots preened and posed, colours swirled around in an art print inspired by Van Gogh, and the Weird Sisters silently jammed on a concert poster, just to name a few things. And Kirby, finally convinced he had gotten all the dirt off himself, kicked off his shoes and flung himself onto his bed. From there, he pulled out his sketchbook, intending to idly doodle.

It'd been a while since Edmund had participated in the routine 'family friend visits', but graduation had created a gallon of free time. The second youngest Klint accompanied Rufus to Manchester, and again, graduation had allowed Edmund to take full advantage of apparition. This short, but enjoyable period of unemployment was sheer bliss; hanging with boys, taking it one day-at-a-time with Lou and finally being free of exam worry and stress.

The pair appeared with a popping noise in the paternal Krause kitchen, and everything immediately fell into place. The families had been friends for years (as long as Edmund could remember, anyway) without little distraction or upset, and it was easy to see why. For Merlin's sake, the eldest Klint child was named after Rufus's best friend! Two grown gentleman embraced boyishly, the sound of back slapping and bellows of laughter filling the room. Edmund followed suit. There was something very heart-warming about being around such close friends, the bond surpassing that of even some relatives.

"Great to see you, Felix," Edmund replied, leaning against the kitchen worktop. Rufus and Kirby's father immediately began exchanging questions surrounding the well-being of ones' spouse, and Edmund realised it was time to scoot. Despite his own bravado that almost matched the notorious Rufus Klint, it wasn't Edmund's place to be hanging around the elders. "The young'un upstairs, then?" he asked, pointing to the ceiling with a grin. His suspicions were confirmed with a simple nod of the head. Bounding upstairs in the familiar abode, it was like navigating a second home. Far different to the pristine, well-placed surroundings of his South Kensington townhouse (Helene Klint was quite the home-maker), something about the Manchester cottage was incredibly homely. Welcoming, to most, and thoroughly comfortable without overt feminine perfection.

Edmund wasn't the kind to knock on doors and respect (or even consider) one's privacy, so rushing into Kirby's bedroom was hardly a surprise. Sticking his head around the door, Edmund beamed from ear to ear. It'd been quite some time. "How's it going, kid?" His voice was excited yet calm all at once, a familiar tone that was well-spoken but not excessive in effulgence. He took a usual spot across from Kirby on his bed; not without a giving him a friendly ruffle of the hair. "Not seen you for ages! What you doing? Doodling in that book again?"

Oh Kirby, the creative, quiet type. How different the pair truly were.

Kirby had only scratched a couple lines onto the page when he heard a familiar voice call from his doorway. And when he looked up and felt a hand upon his head, there was no mistaking it- "Eddy," he stated simply, a light smile gracing his face. The older boy may have mussed his hair, but it was of no consequence, as Kirby's red locks were always mussed anyway.

Edmund Klint and Kirby Krause couldn't have been more different. Kirby's calm, mild, introverted nature was subverted in his longtime friend- a temperamental, brash, heartbreaking type. And yet, the two complemented each other well, and their shared wit made for some interesting repartee over the years. Admittedly, Eddy was better matched by Kirby's stepsister Alison, with her fiery spirit and playful nature. He made a note in his head for the umpteenth time to introduce the two, though he would inevitably forget, just as he always had.

He answered his friend, "Yeah, I was about to do some sketching, but I didn't get very far..." he trailed off, setting the book on his nightstand. "I'm doing well, just got in from London- but what about you? How's being a Hogwarts graduate treating you?" Graduate. The word made the redhead remember that this school year would be quite different without Eddy gracing the Ravenclaw common room with his bold presence, a fact that disappointed him slightly.

Kirby's calm reaction was expected - a welcome antidote to Edmund's boundless enthusiasm. The elder Ravenclaw leant against the opposite bedstead, knees hitched up and gripped by nimble, pianist fingers. He often pondered what Kirby really did in his free time except sketch random images. Was he popular at school? Any good at Quidditch? A real charmer like the Klints? Edmund guessed not, but Kirby had his own distinct charm. It was far more modest, bashful, and reassuringly ordinary. Nobody could argue with the fact he was a good kid. In truth, it'd be a difficult task trying to slate Kirby in any way.

"London, eh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow not too dissimilar to the expressions of their fathers. At eighteen, Edmund fell into typical lad mode all too easily. "Get up to anything good?" Conversation however, was unwittingly directed onto the more serious topic of graduation. He was a wizard now; another face in the sea of young adults. Hogwarts was a thing of the past. "Leaving has been pretty... eventful. Got back with Lou, been partying with the boys a bit, trying to get signed, all that business really."

Edmund took a deep breath; he'd forgotten just how action-packed his time since Hogwarts had been. Juggling a burgeoning Quidditch career, a serious girlfriend and a social life was pretty hectic for the average eighteen year old. "Good to be back at Hogwarts then? What's new with Ravenclaw? Whose on the team these days?"

Kirby listened carefully to Eddy describe his new young adult life, which sounded more difficult than his confident friend would let on. "Ah, you know, same 'wit beyond measure' business," the redhead reported, as he thought to "the team." Edmund had to have meant the quidditch team, which Kirby admittedly knew very little about. He just barely knew how the game worked, and that his lanky frame made high-speed broom flying exceedingly difficult.

Still, it was important to Eddy, so he offered, "I reckon Sasha or Peyton'll go for captain this year. None of the younger years look too promising, to be honest." Ravenclaw must have been the most difficult house to gather a quidditch team for, what with all the bookworms and unathletic eccentrics. Thinking back to London, he remembered something exciting that had happened to him- something that wouldn't make him look so boring.

"When I was in London last week, I went to a club. You know that Spellpunk place, in Diagon Alley? It was kind of... insane."