The fire was lit in Alastor’s room. Letting out a warm aura around the room. Every so often you hear the wood cracking as it disintegrates. Alastor has the radio on the background, it quiet but loud enough to hear what song is playing

Alastor picks up the glass of whiskey next to him, the condensation droplets going down the glass. He holds the glass spinning the whiskey around in small circles making the ice clash together and against the glass making a small chime. He lets out a relaxed huff bring the drink to his lips taking a small swig of the strong liquor

His eyes move to you when placing his glass down. You had your nose in one of his books from his collection. He grins slightly taking the condensation from his glass and flicks the water at you. Your shocked face makes him chuckle lowly

How are you finding the book my dear? He asked, leaning his head back in his chair