Oct 19, 2006 03:18
There's a little poof of ... smoke? mist? ... and a tiny table appears on the bartop, with two tiny chairs to scale.
A smaller poof of reddish smoke appears in one of the chairs, resolving into a small figure we haven't seen in some time.
There is no corresponding poof of white cloud in the other chair.
Ralph blinks.
"...Sam?"
ralph the shoulder devil,
duo maxwell,
draco malfoy,
whistler
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Comments 69
He stares.
This guy has a very tiny pitchfork.
That's so cool.
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And grins a tiny smug grin.
"Hey."
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It's a real effort not to say 'where the hell'. But that's too much even for him.
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"Oh, that's not important," he says smoothly. "What matters is what I can do to help you now that I'm here."
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"Hey there, kid."
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Draco's eyes narrowed, "I'm 17. Not that young." Riiight.
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Ralph eyes him sidelong.
"Seventeen, huh?"
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The voice is coming from a few inches over the bartop, and it sounds a little like its owner has taken in a lungful of helium.
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