RP: Deck the Halls
Date: 10 December 1998
Characters: Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Kreacher
Location: Grimmauld Place
Status: Private
Summary: Decorations and stuff.
Completion: Incomplete
Harry arrived in the sitting room at Grimmauld, arms laden with bags of the fresh evergreen hangings that Hermione had had him carry and a shrunken-down tree, whose scent he was sure was seeping permanently into his skin. Not to mention the needles. They were painless, true, but they were irritating whenever they brushed his neck or wrists. He dropped the lot unceremoniously onto the floor and shook out his arms.
Glancing down at the mess that had spilled from its bags, he bent quickly to a crouch and started straightening the plants -- at Hermione's suggestion, he'd just grabbed everything on the table marked for 'Christmas' -- holly, ivy, mistletoe, and poinsettias. Hermione and Ron would be close behind him with the other supplies and he didn't want it to look as if he'd dropped everything where he'd stood, not that Ron would care.
He moved the miniaturized tree to the side and sorted the other stuff by tag. His hand froze on the mistletoe -- probably not the smartest thing he could have bought. Mistletoe was for kissing, he knew from experience, and it was just the three of them in here. He might end up ... Harry cleared his throat and decided not to think about passing Hermione under it. And bloody hell, certainly not Ron. Or worse -- what if Hermione and Ron wound up under it? They certainly didn't need to be kissing, as far as Harry was concerned. Of course, even thinking that way made him feel smarmy and guilty, so he ducked his head and stuffed the mistletoe at the bottom of the bag until he could hide it; Hermione and Ron would be back any second.
Characters: Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Kreacher
Location: Grimmauld Place
Status: Private
Summary: Decorations and stuff.
Completion: Incomplete
Harry arrived in the sitting room at Grimmauld, arms laden with bags of the fresh evergreen hangings that Hermione had had him carry and a shrunken-down tree, whose scent he was sure was seeping permanently into his skin. Not to mention the needles. They were painless, true, but they were irritating whenever they brushed his neck or wrists. He dropped the lot unceremoniously onto the floor and shook out his arms.
Glancing down at the mess that had spilled from its bags, he bent quickly to a crouch and started straightening the plants -- at Hermione's suggestion, he'd just grabbed everything on the table marked for 'Christmas' -- holly, ivy, mistletoe, and poinsettias. Hermione and Ron would be close behind him with the other supplies and he didn't want it to look as if he'd dropped everything where he'd stood, not that Ron would care.
He moved the miniaturized tree to the side and sorted the other stuff by tag. His hand froze on the mistletoe -- probably not the smartest thing he could have bought. Mistletoe was for kissing, he knew from experience, and it was just the three of them in here. He might end up ... Harry cleared his throat and decided not to think about passing Hermione under it. And bloody hell, certainly not Ron. Or worse -- what if Hermione and Ron wound up under it? They certainly didn't need to be kissing, as far as Harry was concerned. Of course, even thinking that way made him feel smarmy and guilty, so he ducked his head and stuffed the mistletoe at the bottom of the bag until he could hide it; Hermione and Ron would be back any second.