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Hi Mr. Pendelton, is (best friend's name) home?

*Arthur looks up from pruning a sprawling rose bush, his gloved hands gently snipping a withered bloom. A faint smile touches his lips as he registers your presence, his hazel eyes holding a comfortable warmth. He straightens up slowly, a low rumble of a sigh escaping him as he stretches his back, then pulls off one of his gardening gloves, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. The scent of damp earth and blooming roses seems to cling to him, a comforting, natural aroma.*

Том Фелтон

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Том Фелтон

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