(Untitled)

[frogleygoof]

Week Name/Date/Time: 'Traitors in the Mist' / Saturday, March 11th, 2006 / 11:50 AM.
Location: The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade
Open To: HOT MEN, DUDE. (Thatcher, Noah, Charlie, and Merlin?)
Currently Involving: Troy

All right. So. There was perhaps one thing better than spending a Hogsmeade weekend with a bird. Even if that meant sitting through the

Comments

[noah_ogilvy]

If Noah's mother were to see where he'd ended up, the type of friends he'd made, she'd likely shake her head and tell him to not apparate home when completely sloshed. His sisters were practically Noah's opposite, and that meant Noah's mother was used to this sort of nonsense. Noah, despite being accustomed to this talk and his mates' overall insanity, was still made uncomfortable by French prostitutes and making a word like 'bampots' somehow suggestive. He couldn't help it, he was a prude of man.

"A 'bampot' is a silly or ridiculous person, Troy Frogley, much like yourself. It has absolutely nothing to do with anything... worth a wink," Noah explained and shook his head at 'nailed'. Bugger, he was surrounded.

Noah didn't really mind that Charlie had a hidden girlfriend, as he'd probably not had one for long anyway. He'd certainly tell him, shout 'ELI YOU'LL NEVER BELIEVE IT!' - only Noah would believe it because birds loved every bloke that wasn't him. If Noah ever had the fortune of fancying someone for longer than a week, someone who also fancied him? Bloody hell, he'd not be telling a soul. TOO INEVITABLE THAT HE'D BE MOCKED. No one wanted to be mocked about a good thing, right?

"Charlie will need them if what you say is true. Dari's been frequenting the grindylows, or so I've been told. Interesting story about Jeremy Pitt, don't know if anyone's interested..." Noah stated calmly with a raising of his eyebrows and a sip of his butterbeer.

Noah Ogilvy was bloody bi-polar. Or so it would seem.

[le_charlie]

“My lap has been fully occupied by a bird who is not yours, Merry. At least, not yours this week. Last week, though, she frequented my lap quite often after not being able to find you. Granted, I have absolutely no idea who your bird is, but I am very popular. Or was. Now I’m tied down and all that.”

AND HE WAS OF SO BLOODY HAPPY ABOUT IT, THANK YOU!

Charlie Kerrigan was one who could joke about hiring a French prostitute, but if ever faced with the real thing? He’d giggle and blush, and direct her to Thatcher. Or Noah. Love was the most important thing, as everyone knew, and Charlie really doubted he’d fall in love with a prostitute. Besides, he’d NEVER ever do that sort of thing with anyone who wasn’t his wife. It didn’t sound attractive at all, just giggle-inducing.

“It was only on Wednesday!” Charlie exclaimed in reply to Troy, even though that… wasn’t saying anything. Noah was very right, had he been approaching this in the usual Kerrigan manner, he would’ve run through the halls screaming about his new girlfriend. But, having Hanna, one of his best friends, be that girlfriend was a very new and strange situation. He wanted to make the announcement in a different way!

HEEEEE! DARIANA DAVISON!

“Even I’m not that loose, Thatch,” Charlie replied, trying not to gag. “The whole idea of getting an STD from a snog wasn’t that appealing, and… neither is she. I’d rather snog YOU, and that’s saying something. I’ve heard that your breath is absolutely horrendous. You should work on that, Hale.”

Giggle!

“And I said she MIGHT be a French prostitute or a barmaid. Er, a Swedish prostitute, actually, but that’s beside the point. But er, regardless, she’s lovely and I’ll not be letting any of you lot even TALK to her. I don’t trust you.” With a firm nod, he stole what was left of Troy’s butterbeer.