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When he opens the door, she's standing with her back to him, wearing African prints over torn denim, her hair scooped up from the nape of her neck in the heat of the night, her wrists loaded with bracelets. She has a tattoo at the base of her neck, now. She's stifling a yawn with the back of her hand. -
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:comes out of greenhouse four, wiping her hands on her skirt, her bag slung across her chest, hair braided back from her face:
:talking to Connor:
I bet it's something atrocious for dinner...I just have that feeling in my water...:grins: -
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Len hadn't been sure what she looked like, turned this way and that in front of the mirror in a sweep of olive silk. Moira had sat concentrating, curling individual strands of her hair with a mouth full of pins. She'd been sure she looked a mess until she saw the look in Ted's eyes when he saw her ( Read more... ) -
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She sips water in front of the crowded hall and when she puts the glass down, her hand is shaking slightly. She's not sure how she got talked into this circus, anyway. Oh, yes, twenty three years old and just published her first book. vanity ( Read more... ) -
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She came wandering down into the common room, wearing rugby shirt over one of Ted's t-shirts, several inches of bare shin between breeches and sock feet. She had her hair mostly pinned up, her glasses on the end of the nose. She walked over to the couch, prodded Ted with her toe.
"Room for a little one, Tonks?" -
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Yawning, she flipped through her History of Magic textbook for the third time that lunch, settling on the Chapter on the origns of the Unforgivable curses as she ate crisps without looking.