Comments | road_ahead: OWL: Pucker up.

rar_cormac in road_ahead

OWL: Pucker up.

Jan 27, 2008 13:00

Date: 27 August 1998
Characters: Cormac McLaggen, Rita Skeeter, Horace Slughorn
Location: Various
Status: Semi-Public
Summary: Cormac sends some owls.
Completion: InComplete

( Kisses applied directly to subject's posterior. )

rita skeeter, august 1998, cormac mclaggen, owl post, horace slughorn

Comments 3

rar_rita February 4 2008, 03:43:58 UTC

An owl arrived at Rita's window under Rita's window with a heavy burden attached to its leg. When it extended its leg, she untied both the letter and the package, leaving the other letter on the bird's leg. At the angle it was tied, all she could see was that it was addressed to a Professor.

When she read the owl, she couldn't help an amused little smile. Ah, Cormac McLaggen was rather smooth, wasn't he? Transparent, but smooth.

(He'd been that way when he was sixteen, but he hadn't remained smooth for long once she'd got her hands on him.)

Rita picked up her quill.

Mr McLaggen,

I would be only too happy to re-accquaint you with the goings-on in the wizarding world. A private table for two (as opposed to one of those ghastly public ones) sounds lovely. How does Tuesday sound?

Regards,

Rita Skeeter

Before sending the reply, Rita opened the heavy package. And frowned in confusion. What on earth was that? Some kind of sweet? For her? How bizarre. On the bottom of the note she added:

PS. Thankyou for the jar of... well, ( ... )

rar_cormac February 7 2008, 21:41:39 UTC

Cormac opened Rita's reply and felt his heart leap into his throat. "TWINKIE!" He roared.

She popped into his apartment. "Master Cormac is calling?" she said.

"Yes. That bloody stupid owl Hercules delivered the crystallized pineapple to Skeeter not Slughorn. Get another jar from Honeydukes and send it up to the castle right away!" Cormac fumed. Stupid bird. Twinkie nodded and apparated away with a crack.

( ... )

rar_rita February 8 2008, 17:24:36 UTC

Rita couldn't help a snort of laughter when she read the letter. Crystallised pineapple reminded him of wet, glistening skin? Oh, now he really was stretching.

She had to wait for the laughter to subside before her hand was steady enough to pen a reply.

Dear Cormac,

Next Friday sounds wonderful. Shall we say 1pm?

Rita