Down to business.

[dracolicious]

Once again, Potter has been tormenting me by keeping busy in the kitchen, crafting delicious and fragrant things I cannot pilfer. Since we'll be hosting a mass Easter egg hunt at Widdleton tomorrow morning and the extensive hunting and gathering shall end with starving ankle biters, the ends justify the means

Comments

[boywholives]

There you are...

[dracolicious]

You seem surprised. I've been down in this dungeon all day, Potter.

[boywholives]

Well come upstairs....you're done for the night. I say so.

[dracolicious]

Actually, I've still one more batch to go, thanks to you and your rampaging bits.

[boywholives]

...what do my bits have to do with this?

[dracolicious]

You're the one who shagged me so rotten that the eggs jumped to their deaths.

[boywholives]

Oh. That. Well, it was entirely your fault. I warned you about the wiggling.

[dracolicious]

It's called walking, Potter. I realize you don't witness me doing it very often, since you wait on me hand and foot---and rightly so, but. . . .

[boywholives]

Liar. You know exactly what you're doing.

[dracolicious]

Why don't you prove it?

[boywholives]

I did not even five hours ago.

[dracolicious]

Might as well be years ago, then.

[boywholives]

You'll live. Extinguish those flames.

[dracolicious]

I might not. I might perish from lack of being serviced in a timely fashion.

[boywholives]

What part of I'll draw you a bath do you not understand?

[dracolicious]

PERISH. LACK OF SERVICE. I DON'T RECKON I'LL MAKE IT UPSTAIRS.

Away from the eggs this time, Potter. This won't take long.