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]

...any good?

[dracolicious]

BUSY HERE, POTTER---

[boywholives]

I'll take that as a yes.

[dracolicious]

I suspect you've just spoiled me for all naked potatoes forevermore.

[boywholives]

I thought of making some for tomorrow's starters.

[dracolicious]

Starters, and everything else.

[boywholives]

Is the word 'excess' even in your vocabulary?

[dracolicious]

No.

[boywholives]

How silly of me to even ask.

Now come upstairs - we've got more than enough eggs for tomorrow.

[dracolicious]

If not, guess who's making a trip to the shops? Are the shops even open on Easter Sunday?

[boywholives]

Draco, we have plenty, now stop already. You smell like eggs...

[dracolicious]

. . . I haven't been down here hitting the fertility potion, if that's what you're getting at.

[boywholives]

I mean that you smell like a hen house...

C'mon, I'll draw you a bath.

[dracolicious]

I'd rather have a real one than a scribbly picture, if it's all the same to y0efjnvuerhnfjdkn9gneoj ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT!

[boywholives]

Try not to lay any eggs on the way up the stairs, you bloody chicken...

[dracolicious]

I do what I want.