RP: Possession is 9/10s of the law.
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger (with Crookshanks, Osiris, Lucifer, Fleck, and Cookoo all kibbitzing.)
Location: Granger-Malfoy flat of shouting and boxes
Date: 16 May 2000
Status/Warning: Private/Language (It's Malfoy doing manual labor, what sort of language would you expect?)
Summary: Moving day
Completion: Complete
Draco drooped over the back of the sofa - dramatically.
Overdramatically.
Melodramatically, even he would admit to that.
He drooped over the back of the sofa, hung limp with his face buried in one of the multiplying pillows, and he groaned. Nothing happened except for Osiris' tail smacking him in the ear, and Draco raised his head to glare at the study door. He groaned louder.
Nothing.
He wasn't a patient man at the best of times, and after spending a day helping Hermione - well, getting in her way and getting slapped on the hand for daring to touch what apparently was an extremely delicate set of instruments - his patience was nearing its end. Draco gave one more pathetic groan, then made a face and shouted.
"I could be dying out here, you know! I keep telling you, you have to wait until after the wedding to inherit my money, so the least you could do is take care of my health until then!" He wriggled on the sofa and rolled over the back of it to thump into the cushions with a huff. His pocketwatch and charm stabbed him in the side and he jerked it free. The eyes on the charm reminded him that Hermione had one as well and knew perfectly well that he wasn't dying. She was probably going to hit him again, he determined. Possibly he should take off running right then.
He decided to have a cigarette instead. More moving could wait.
Location: Granger-Malfoy flat of shouting and boxes
Date: 16 May 2000
Status/Warning: Private/Language (It's Malfoy doing manual labor, what sort of language would you expect?)
Summary: Moving day
Completion: Complete
Draco drooped over the back of the sofa - dramatically.
Overdramatically.
Melodramatically, even he would admit to that.
He drooped over the back of the sofa, hung limp with his face buried in one of the multiplying pillows, and he groaned. Nothing happened except for Osiris' tail smacking him in the ear, and Draco raised his head to glare at the study door. He groaned louder.
Nothing.
He wasn't a patient man at the best of times, and after spending a day helping Hermione - well, getting in her way and getting slapped on the hand for daring to touch what apparently was an extremely delicate set of instruments - his patience was nearing its end. Draco gave one more pathetic groan, then made a face and shouted.
"I could be dying out here, you know! I keep telling you, you have to wait until after the wedding to inherit my money, so the least you could do is take care of my health until then!" He wriggled on the sofa and rolled over the back of it to thump into the cushions with a huff. His pocketwatch and charm stabbed him in the side and he jerked it free. The eyes on the charm reminded him that Hermione had one as well and knew perfectly well that he wasn't dying. She was probably going to hit him again, he determined. Possibly he should take off running right then.
He decided to have a cigarette instead. More moving could wait.