(Untitled)

[victoryschild]

Sneak sneak sneak. Sneak sneak sneak

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[followfootsteps]

That girl looks very familiar.

Teddy is not sure where from. But he's sitting right by the tree, so she's headed straight for him.

His reaction is one of complete expressionlessness.

[victoryschild]

Victoire ignores him right up until the point where she remembers that she can't actually read very much and can only just about spell her own name.

"What does that say?" she asks, thrusting a neatly wrapped present ('To Peeta, From Father Christmas') at him.

[followfootsteps]

"Er."

Teddy's not much good with children.

He can read, though!

"'To Peeta, From Father Christmas'."

[victoryschild]

She makes a frustrated tutting noise and inelegantly shoves the present back under the tree.

"I can't find it!"

[a1enzo]

Whatever else is under the tree, there is definitely a teenage sprite discovering that no matter how pleased you are with your new tent, there is no effective way to inspect it without actually assembling it, something not best done in a barroom. An attempted compromise appears to involve half-burying himself in waterproof nylon.

[victoryschild]

Well. It's not her present but it is a mystery. Victoire pokes at the waterproof nylon covered lump.

[a1enzo]

There is a moment of light flailing, and then the fabric comes away from a slightly sheepish-looking green head.

[victoryschild]

"What are you doing?" she asks, hands on her hips as she does the best impression of Molly Weasley a four year old can do.