[Alfred's holding his cat while peeking out at the courtyard, seated against a stone divider wall between some pillars. He's quiet and keeping to himself, moreso than normal, and looks far less cheerful than usual. His robes are loose-fitting, like he's not quite grown into them, and that's not far from the mark; he's thinner than usual.

His cat meows loudly, squirming in his grip and slipping away. Alfred lets him, only for the cat to sit a foot away from him and stare at him oddly, like he knows something's wrong with his owner.]

Come on, Tony. I'm not in the mood to play. Be good.





(OoC: For this event, Alfred's father was killed in an "accident" during the First Wizarding War, a few years back, and its given him a somber personality, since he doesn't feel it was an accident and that his family was targeted for harboring a muggle-born. He's also very work-oriented and practices magic a great deal.)