(no subject)
When not busy with the cottage (and, more recently, snogging Albus Potter), Scorpius has been working on his broom. The repairs (and the snogging, for those wondering) have been going rather well and he's nearly restored the broom to its former glory.
And there haven't been any more incidents.
Until now.
When the broom, set on the table in front of him, suddenly bursts into flames.
"Oh!"
Scorpius jumps out of his chair, his eyebrows nearly singed, and douses the fire with a quickly cast spell. He's fast enough to save the table but not the broom.
There's only a neat pile of ash left that Scorpius pokes at, the broom having been completely incinerated.
" - Shite."
He starts laughing.
And there haven't been any more incidents.
Until now.
When the broom, set on the table in front of him, suddenly bursts into flames.
"Oh!"
Scorpius jumps out of his chair, his eyebrows nearly singed, and douses the fire with a quickly cast spell. He's fast enough to save the table but not the broom.
There's only a neat pile of ash left that Scorpius pokes at, the broom having been completely incinerated.
" - Shite."
He starts laughing.