OPEN -- Diagon Alley
The sun had never seemed so bright. What was that even about, anyway?
Ron fumbled on the nightstand for his sunglasses, and slipped them on with an equal amount of grace. Better. It had been a hard night. After a long day of working The Burning Man case, Ron had suggested he and Harry head over to the Leaky Caulron to grab a few pints and blow off a bit of steam... which most definitely explained why he'd woken up in one of their rooms this morning. Who needed enemies when your best friends made bets that you couldn't take seven fire whiskey shots in a row?
"Fucking Potter," he groaned quietly, stretching underneath the covers. He kicked at the sheets, untangling his legs, "What time is it?"
"Ron, are you awake?"
He froze, half sitting up. The voice had come from the bathroom, and now that he had woken up, he could hear the shower running. "I was wondering when you'd get up, darling, it's nearly two o'clock! Ronny, lets get breakfast! I'll be out in a moment!" The mystery woman giggled.
Bloody Hell, he thought carefully slipping out of bed as to not make the floorboards creak. He found his clothes in a heap near the foot of the bed, grabbed his jeans, and pulled them on.
"Maybe we can grab something quick and you can take me to the Aurors office like you said last night?" She called from the bathroom, "it would be so exhilarating to hang around a real auror! I just can't.."
Ron rolled his eyes, tuning her out while putting his shirt on over his messy mop of red hair. No more whiskey.
He didn't even bother slipping on his other shoe before hopping out the door. With a door between them, he sighed in relief, dropping his trainer on the floor and shoving his foot into it. He skuffed through the hall and down the stairs, giving a little wave to Tom as he went slipped out into Diagon Alley. Ron decided that he'd about his apartment for awhile, still holding Harry responsible for his blackout. However, it would've been equally as irresponsible not to tell his fiend he'd survived the night. Ron pulled out his wand, silently summoning his patronus.
He bent down, eye level with the charmed image of the jack russel, and said, "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck yooooooooou, Harry Potter."
Then, he sent the whispy dog on its way.
Ron fumbled on the nightstand for his sunglasses, and slipped them on with an equal amount of grace. Better. It had been a hard night. After a long day of working The Burning Man case, Ron had suggested he and Harry head over to the Leaky Caulron to grab a few pints and blow off a bit of steam... which most definitely explained why he'd woken up in one of their rooms this morning. Who needed enemies when your best friends made bets that you couldn't take seven fire whiskey shots in a row?
"Fucking Potter," he groaned quietly, stretching underneath the covers. He kicked at the sheets, untangling his legs, "What time is it?"
"Ron, are you awake?"
He froze, half sitting up. The voice had come from the bathroom, and now that he had woken up, he could hear the shower running. "I was wondering when you'd get up, darling, it's nearly two o'clock! Ronny, lets get breakfast! I'll be out in a moment!" The mystery woman giggled.
Bloody Hell, he thought carefully slipping out of bed as to not make the floorboards creak. He found his clothes in a heap near the foot of the bed, grabbed his jeans, and pulled them on.
"Maybe we can grab something quick and you can take me to the Aurors office like you said last night?" She called from the bathroom, "it would be so exhilarating to hang around a real auror! I just can't.."
Ron rolled his eyes, tuning her out while putting his shirt on over his messy mop of red hair. No more whiskey.
He didn't even bother slipping on his other shoe before hopping out the door. With a door between them, he sighed in relief, dropping his trainer on the floor and shoving his foot into it. He skuffed through the hall and down the stairs, giving a little wave to Tom as he went slipped out into Diagon Alley. Ron decided that he'd about his apartment for awhile, still holding Harry responsible for his blackout. However, it would've been equally as irresponsible not to tell his fiend he'd survived the night. Ron pulled out his wand, silently summoning his patronus.
He bent down, eye level with the charmed image of the jack russel, and said, "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck yooooooooou, Harry Potter."
Then, he sent the whispy dog on its way.