Characters: Draco Malfoy, open
Location: Slug and Jiggers Apothecary
Date: 23 March 2000
Status: Public
Summary: Draco's at work and none too pleased by that.
Completion: Complete.
(
Stumble out of bed and tumble to the kitchen//pour myself a cup of ambition )
He scraped the ick off his hands and into a large stone bowl before he added a thin and orangish liquid. "Does a number on them sometimes. Supposed to be wearing gloves, according to all the Dear God You'll Hurt Yourself literature and lessons, but it's pointless to me. Sometimes just have to get in and feel what I'm doing. I've got this olive oil salve that I put on if I've really messed mine up."
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And she would. She'd promised herself that, even if it meant making Percy a very fickle fan.
A somewhat sly look. "But Malfoy, isn't it worth saving your hands?"
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He glanced at Cho, eyebrow raised. "Isn't what worth saving my hands?"
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She made a face, grinning. "You were the one bothering me about mine. Little precautions, etc. Shouldn't you be more careful, if you're going to be a doctor?"
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"Ah," he said, glancing at his hands, wrist-deep in the bowl and musing up a handful of small, stubby berries. "Well, it's not like I'm handling anything corrosive with bare hands. I'm not an idiot. It's mostly just getting dry skin from time to time. Granger's not complained, though, so I think the salves I use work well."
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She giggled at the mention of Granger, and shook her head. "You'll have old man hands before you're thirty, and your girlfriend will either be appalled or highly curious."
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"She's always highly curious," he muttered, dumping the bowlful of ingredients into the cauldron and checking the flame. "It's her natural state of being. Don't mind so much, I suppose. It's encouraging to see how much she wants to know about being a witch. If I didn't already know her background, I'd never guess it, these days."
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Funny, funny.
But what he said next -- encouraging and all that, she clammed up somewhat. Cho had never been very comfortable about blood status. It intrigued her how much stock people put into it, though she'd never really bought into the idea herself. Unfortunately, there'd been enough issue with it during the past few years that most of the time she'd really... Really rather not talk about being a halfblood. As a child, Cho had mostly assumed that that sort of thing was reserved for her family in China: putting up a fuss about things a person couldn't help, much less their chemistry. Going to Hogwarts had changed that preconception very rapidly.
"We always thought the hat was a cheat, for keeping her from Ravenclaw."
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Would she have liked Hermione more in school if she'd been a Slytherin? True, everyone'd always thought her a misplaced claw, but if she'd actually been in Ravenclaw there would have been horrible spats.
She wrinkled her nose at Hufflepuff. "Oh dear. Yellow wouldn't be her color, I shouldn't think." And that was it, honestly. She had no place in saying it would've been a waste -- that implied that everyone else in it was, too.
(Then again: as far as Cho was really concerned, there'd only ever been one great Hufflepuff. Sorry, Cedric, but the line did end with you.)
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He didn't apologize, though. There was only one long-held opinion he'd changed his mind about in the recent years, and the proof of that was the girlfriend he couldn't ever stop smiling about. His stance on Hufflepuffs was a harmless lark, in comparison.
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So she grinned instead. "They got the short end there, too. Black and yellow! Horrendous."
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Cho was remembering Cedric's friends: they'd all welcomed her well enough, and sometimes had been her only source of comfort ... Afterward.
"But that's just it. They're mostly nice, and that's really all you can say." She giggled, shaking her head. "Ah well. Shouldn't be too mean."
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