Date: July 22, 2000
Time: Eh- 1:00pmish
Location: Quality Quidditch Supplies
Character(s) Involved: Tonks, Charlie, Clive & open to any.
Status: Incomplete
Rating: PG if we can help it. ~.^
(
It was a sure deal that Charlie would not put up much of a fight to accompany Tonks to the Quiddich store. )
“Excuse you!” She called back to them just before the door closed, as Tonks stepped around Charlie to stare at the runners. And then Tonks went to grumble at Charlie about rude-mannered, blind children, when she noticed people trying to enter now, and were being blocked. Quickly Tonks put a hand to Charlie’s arm and tried to pull him further inward. “Is it always like this?” She inquired to her friend in bewilderment. “Think someone was here signing autographs or something.”
Then she noticed Charlie’s blank expression, one that would speak of sleepless nights and a lot of booze, if Tonks didn’t know any better. But Charlie did seek his bed out for a few hours at a time, and he wasn’t as drunk as a skunk on a lot of occasions, so this mood he was in was now almost considered ‘normal.’ Tonks attempted to lure him out of it.
“If you’ve ever thought about trading in that old stick of yours, now’d be the time… so then you can gloat and brag about how you’ve finally bettered me.” Her own comment made her giggle.
“D’you know they allow you to try out the newest one? Smales said so to me one time… I caught him advertising in journal awhile back. You should try it out,” She coaxed, while her hands filtered through a box of printed posters.
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"...come to Quality Quidditch Supplies," he started to murmur for the umpteenth time today. It came out mechanically, and Clive suddenly wished he'd had a voice recorder to speak out these same words instead having his mouth do all of the work. "Clive Smales, at your service. Reckon you're here to enter the contest, right? Forms right here." He held one out in each hand. "Quills to your left. If you've any questions about the contest or any of our merchandise please let me know. " His smile was more weary than accomodating but he was having a rather rough time of it.
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But before he was able to space out too much, a man's voice called his attention back to reality. Charlie looked over as an employee (strangely familiar, at that) directed them to quills and parchment. A contest?
"What?"
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“Thanks, Mr. Smales.” Tonks said with a large grin. “Nice to finally get in here to meet you.” Discreetly, as she stared at Clive, she put one form into Charlie’s hand.
“I was just talking to Charlie about you.” She motioned to Charlie as she said his name. “He’s got a rickety old Cleansweep in need of replacing.” Her own words made her snicker.
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