About that shipment~

[whiskey_sunday]

WHO: That one red head, and a certain prefect
WHEN: A few minutes after dinner had been served.
WHERE: Room of Requirement.
WHAT: Business as usual. Smuggled goods, paying customers... who might not have exact change.

Comments

[oranje_windmill]

Willem didn’t take much time in the dining hall, merely pulling himself together a sandwich to eat on the way to meet this time’s twin about a certain shipment they had for him. Considering it was Ash who had delivered the note, and that Conner was currently in the middle of a commotion at the Gryffindor table, it was more than likely Erin with whom he’d be doing business with tonight.

Which he didn’t mind, of course. Conner was a decent guy, but he lacked much of Erin’s....charm.

Shoving the last bite into his mouth, he opened the door to find two chairs,one table,one fire,and one very pretty Gryffindor. His lips curved up into a smirk at his luck as he took the seat opposite her.

“You have what I asked for, Miss. O'Connor?”

[whiskey_sunday]

Erin was tipping her chair back, leaning closer to the wonderful heat of the fire, with her legs crossed and onto of the table. Just a moment, she closed her eyes, perfectly comfortable. She loved this room almost as much as the Gryffindor common rooms. But in that moment the door opened, her peaceful moment was interrupted, but her grin grew wider.
She casually sat up, feet on the ground, both hers and the chair's.
"Welcome, Mr. Van Peeters," She waited for him to cross the room and sit for saying anything more. Also, when she was sure that it was only him and no unexpected guests, such as other prefects or teachers. She trusted Wilm... But believed in others's skill of sneaking more.

She titled her head up with smug confidence, "That depends. You have what I asked for?"

[oranje_windmill]

He sat in his chair as one extremely comfortable in his own skin, his height lending to the image by giving him the illusion of good posture without the effort. Reaching inside his robes, he drew forth a small bag and placed it on the table between them. Withdrawing his hand, he leaned back in the chair, crossing his legs as he propped his elbows on the chair arms with his fingers steepled together.

“It’s all there,” he said with a smirk that matched hers. “You’re welcome to count it, but I’d assume after all the time we’ve been doing business together you’d trust me on that.”

[whiskey_sunday]

He had a good point, it'd be rude to count. He hasn't cheated her brother, nor herself in the past. Why now?
Erin reached out and took the small pouch. The weight felt right, and there was the familiar sound of the small metal pieces clicking together--not that she made it a skill to be able to count money like this...

And now, in turn, Erin reached into her own robes and took out the small package, wrapped in Hufflepuff's colors. But she didn't set on the table, where the money had been. Instead, she just held it up so he can see she had it, then stood out of her chair and walked around the table. "I still don't understand what is so great about this stuff. Doesn't it make your breath stink?"