James Potter vs. Laundry
So far as James could surmise, this place was only half bad. There was sun, sand, and scantily clad women running about. In fact, James had yet to see one unattractive bird. Keeping his eyes forward was too difficult a task, and hey, he wasn't married yet and he most certainly wasn't blind.
However, fit birds didn't exactly appreciate blokes who smelled like...well, whatever it was James had smelled like before taking a shower. The clothing box gave him absolutely nothing besides shirts printed with giant flowers. One the tags said "100% Polyester Hawaiian shirt". Most were bright pink and yellow and while James was very secure in his manhood, he wasn't about to wear something that made him look like he'd stepped out of some retired banker's queer wet dream.
The sunburn that still blazed across his shoulders, back and face told him that he did need a shirt and that said shirt was going to have to be the one he already had. So, it was in front of this washing machine contraption...thing, that he stood with a towel around his waist and his fingers buried in his hair. There was this box that claimed to be laundry detergent, with instructions on it for use. He stared at the instructions, murmuring them to himself, then lowered the box to look at the knobs on the machine. There were all these cycles, but the only thing that James had figured out so far was to point one of the knobs to a light load since it was just his clothes.
This was the other thing that was the other (bad) half of the island, besides Lily not being there - no magic. No easy laundry, just a stupid machine that James thought, if it could, would stick out its tongue and taunt him. He already hated it, but if he could get Lily Evans to fall in love with him, he could certainly conquer some clothes washing machine.
However, fit birds didn't exactly appreciate blokes who smelled like...well, whatever it was James had smelled like before taking a shower. The clothing box gave him absolutely nothing besides shirts printed with giant flowers. One the tags said "100% Polyester Hawaiian shirt". Most were bright pink and yellow and while James was very secure in his manhood, he wasn't about to wear something that made him look like he'd stepped out of some retired banker's queer wet dream.
The sunburn that still blazed across his shoulders, back and face told him that he did need a shirt and that said shirt was going to have to be the one he already had. So, it was in front of this washing machine contraption...thing, that he stood with a towel around his waist and his fingers buried in his hair. There was this box that claimed to be laundry detergent, with instructions on it for use. He stared at the instructions, murmuring them to himself, then lowered the box to look at the knobs on the machine. There were all these cycles, but the only thing that James had figured out so far was to point one of the knobs to a light load since it was just his clothes.
This was the other thing that was the other (bad) half of the island, besides Lily not being there - no magic. No easy laundry, just a stupid machine that James thought, if it could, would stick out its tongue and taunt him. He already hated it, but if he could get Lily Evans to fall in love with him, he could certainly conquer some clothes washing machine.