Productive.

[dracolicious]

So. We were summoned to the Ministry about the amazing disappearing Goyle. Thankfully, Potter had enough sway to keep us from the indignity of being dosed with Veritaserum, but I don't feel we were entirely believable with our story of Goyle dropping Oscar on our doorstep for a Boxing Day filled with fun and games, and then simply not bothering

Comments

[boywholives]

Hey, this was Bean's favourite stuffed toy. He named it wooblet, remember? Wooblet the lion...

[dracolicious]

Of course I remember, I had to buy half a dozen of them in case he lost the bloody thing. This one isn't the original, I'll have you know.

[boywholives]

We should have given it to Morty...

[dracolicious]

Lambchop has too much class to consort with stuffed lions.

[boywholives]

Even his Papa?

[dracolicious]

I haven't stuffed you yet, but the night is young.

[boywholives]

It rather ruins the effect with you sat there holding a stack of Emmy's old ruffled pants...

[dracolicious]

She always did look splendid in ruffles.

[boywholives]

So do you.

[dracolicious]

I don't believe my ruffled underthings would be appropriate in any of these piles. Call it a hunch.

[boywholives]

Your ruffled underthings aren't appropriate period. That's why they're so nice.

[dracolicious]

We haven't shopped for any sort of fancy underthings for quite a while. Why is that?

[boywholives]

That's typically your area of expertise, so...you tell me.

[dracolicious]

Have I got to do everything?

[boywholives]

That depends. What exactly are you doing here with all this stuff? I could give you a better answer.

[dracolicious]

Nothing, I said. Don't be nosy.