What the spell is going on here!
Who: a atrumcanis and a alwaysforhim!
When: backdated to Saturday, June 11th
Where: the super secret firehouse
Summary: Merlin can't Apparate, Merlin can't Aapparate, Merlin cannot Apparate! He only can walk and he cannot Apparate, not even if he's reading a How-To-Apparate Book! ...but, well, Sirius won't really brag, as it's Merlin ohmygod. This is gonna be all magical books and magical learnings and magical hyjinks and Magical Good Times!
Sirius shoved aside the empty plate, pushing it behind his trunk. It would be better to put it in the sink, but he'd wasted far too much time, and Merlin was definitely going to arrive at any moment. He knew the password, he would be able to find the firehouse without trouble--and Sirius didn't want to be caught unawares.
Which sounded stupid, as this wasn't some date--this was just another boy, just another wizard. Though not just another wizard, and he couldn't help but to mentally correct that point. It was impossible to forget that this was Merlin, the Merlin--he'd been around for ages now, so some of the tendency toward a star-struck reaction had faded--and yet vestiges of it were still present, ready to spring up at the worst moment. He got to practice magic with Merlin. That was something to be proud of, no matter the age or the time or the skill.
And anyway, after years at Hogwarts--after spending his whole life surrounded by wizards and witches, most of them somewhere around his own age--well, it was weirdly refreshing to be back in that again. Not that he wanted to be selective. Not that he minded--sometimes, the company of Siren's Port was better than the collective company of most of the wizards of Sirius' acquaintance. Though that was to be expected, given certain affiliations. His face tightened momentarily, but he shrugged it off and picked up his half-empty drink, taking a quick swallow.
The corner of the room was occupied by the magic books that he'd cobbled together from various bookshops all around the city. They were mostly legitimate, and Sirius spared them a fond smile. Remus would have liked those books. He would have carried on and on about their worth, and probably would have thrown in comments about the bindings and the craftsmanship and on and on and on, in his own quiet way. Sharing them with Merlin seemed the right thing to do. And Remus would be impressed that Sirius had given Merlin a book, he thought, grinning a little and raising his glass in a silent toast.
He settled back, taking another sip, and listening for Merlin at the door.
When: backdated to Saturday, June 11th
Where: the super secret firehouse
Summary: Merlin can't Apparate, Merlin can't Aapparate, Merlin cannot Apparate! He only can walk and he cannot Apparate, not even if he's reading a How-To-Apparate Book! ...but, well, Sirius won't really brag, as it's Merlin ohmygod. This is gonna be all magical books and magical learnings and magical hyjinks and Magical Good Times!
Sirius shoved aside the empty plate, pushing it behind his trunk. It would be better to put it in the sink, but he'd wasted far too much time, and Merlin was definitely going to arrive at any moment. He knew the password, he would be able to find the firehouse without trouble--and Sirius didn't want to be caught unawares.
Which sounded stupid, as this wasn't some date--this was just another boy, just another wizard. Though not just another wizard, and he couldn't help but to mentally correct that point. It was impossible to forget that this was Merlin, the Merlin--he'd been around for ages now, so some of the tendency toward a star-struck reaction had faded--and yet vestiges of it were still present, ready to spring up at the worst moment. He got to practice magic with Merlin. That was something to be proud of, no matter the age or the time or the skill.
And anyway, after years at Hogwarts--after spending his whole life surrounded by wizards and witches, most of them somewhere around his own age--well, it was weirdly refreshing to be back in that again. Not that he wanted to be selective. Not that he minded--sometimes, the company of Siren's Port was better than the collective company of most of the wizards of Sirius' acquaintance. Though that was to be expected, given certain affiliations. His face tightened momentarily, but he shrugged it off and picked up his half-empty drink, taking a quick swallow.
The corner of the room was occupied by the magic books that he'd cobbled together from various bookshops all around the city. They were mostly legitimate, and Sirius spared them a fond smile. Remus would have liked those books. He would have carried on and on about their worth, and probably would have thrown in comments about the bindings and the craftsmanship and on and on and on, in his own quiet way. Sharing them with Merlin seemed the right thing to do. And Remus would be impressed that Sirius had given Merlin a book, he thought, grinning a little and raising his glass in a silent toast.
He settled back, taking another sip, and listening for Merlin at the door.