PRESENT RP: Those silly French. What will they think of next?
DATE/TIME: 8 September 2007, about 8:30 pm
CHARACTERS: Fred Weasley, Daphne Malfoy
PLACE: (The evening starts at) La Scala Restaurant, Saint-Tropez, France
RATING: PG-13
STATUS: Complete
Sitting in his best and most sedate robes (for him, anyway), Fred smiled, most charmingly, at his dinner date. As much as he would have loved to have worn another outrageous "zooty" he, for probably the first time in his life, erred on the side of caution in this quite posh wizarding restaurant on the French Riviera. A frolicsome Weasley twin he may be, but he was on rare occasion quite capable of going with status quo.
He just didn't like this little detail to get out. Bad for his reputation and all.
So far the evening had been splendid. Daphne was even more ravishing by the warm light of a single candle that illuminated their table as she tittered quietly at Fred's coy jokes. If he did say so himself, he was on the very top of his game tonight.
Lifting a spoonful of vichyssoise (a potato and leek soup served cold. Those silly French. What will they think of next?) to his lips, Fred used the act of sipping and swallowing as a sort of dramatic pause in his latest tale.
"And that, m'lady, is the surefire way to tell me and George apart," he devilishly remarked, after dotting his napkin to the corners of his mouth.
CHARACTERS: Fred Weasley, Daphne Malfoy
PLACE: (The evening starts at) La Scala Restaurant, Saint-Tropez, France
RATING: PG-13
STATUS: Complete
Sitting in his best and most sedate robes (for him, anyway), Fred smiled, most charmingly, at his dinner date. As much as he would have loved to have worn another outrageous "zooty" he, for probably the first time in his life, erred on the side of caution in this quite posh wizarding restaurant on the French Riviera. A frolicsome Weasley twin he may be, but he was on rare occasion quite capable of going with status quo.
He just didn't like this little detail to get out. Bad for his reputation and all.
So far the evening had been splendid. Daphne was even more ravishing by the warm light of a single candle that illuminated their table as she tittered quietly at Fred's coy jokes. If he did say so himself, he was on the very top of his game tonight.
Lifting a spoonful of vichyssoise (a potato and leek soup served cold. Those silly French. What will they think of next?) to his lips, Fred used the act of sipping and swallowing as a sort of dramatic pause in his latest tale.
"And that, m'lady, is the surefire way to tell me and George apart," he devilishly remarked, after dotting his napkin to the corners of his mouth.