Date: January 3, 2006 Character: Ollivander and Rita Location: Ollivander's Wand Shop Status: Private Summary: It's been a long time since Ollivander has had to cope with a cold snap like this one. Completion: Incomplete
Voices seemed to call out to him from somewhere, and he thought there was someone singing out there, as well. Must be from the front room.
Ollivander pushed himself up and found that although he couldn't really focus his eyes, he still knew which way was the stove and which way was the shop. The tea kettle was whistling on the stove, and that singing and the voice... no was it a dream? Perhaps it was best not to take chances.
"I'll be right out," he said unconvincingly, calling toward the shop. After a few moments of confusion, he looked closer at the person whose hands were on his shoulders. "Aah, Rita, so good of you to stop by. Look, I need to go out there and help my customers, if you'd be so kind as to get the toast and tea?"
Somehow what he just said didn't make any sense at all. Perhaps it was the cold.
"It's freezing in here," he said, pulling the blanket closer around his shoulders. "I don't suppose you'd mind putting another log on, or stoking the stove for me?"
Merlin. He wasn't dead, but he was far from lucid. How many layers of clothing was he wearing?
Sweet Jesus. Did this man have no idea how to look after himself when he was ill?
"You haven't got any customers." She said it bluntly, hoping that it would get through. "And it's not cold in here, it's like an oven." She touched his forehead. "You're burning up." The last was softer, betraying the momentary fear she'd felt at seeing him slumped like that, but in the next moment she held out her hand to him, all matter-of-fact again. "Come. Leave the blanket. You need to be in bed, and you need to open a window and get these clothes off."
Coming from anyone else, Ollivander might have disregarded everything they said. However, when Rita Skeeter suggested getting his clothes off, it suggested something entirely different.
"Get... it's cold, though. So cold." Ollivander looked from the other room back into Rita's eyes, now able to focus a little. "Will you help me keep warm?" he asked in what he imagined would be something of a sultry voice. The fact that it just came out sounding a little pathetic was certainly none of his fault.
He did, however, stand and let the toast drop to the table. Reluctangly, he dropped the blanket over the chair and clutched his robes tighter around him as he let Rita lead him out of the kitchen and toward the stairs again.
"I've never been this cold before," he said meekly. "When do you suppose this horrible chill will pass?"
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Ollivander pushed himself up and found that although he couldn't really focus his eyes, he still knew which way was the stove and which way was the shop. The tea kettle was whistling on the stove, and that singing and the voice... no was it a dream? Perhaps it was best not to take chances.
"I'll be right out," he said unconvincingly, calling toward the shop. After a few moments of confusion, he looked closer at the person whose hands were on his shoulders. "Aah, Rita, so good of you to stop by. Look, I need to go out there and help my customers, if you'd be so kind as to get the toast and tea?"
Somehow what he just said didn't make any sense at all. Perhaps it was the cold.
"It's freezing in here," he said, pulling the blanket closer around his shoulders. "I don't suppose you'd mind putting another log on, or stoking the stove for me?"
Reply
Merlin. He wasn't dead, but he was far from lucid. How many layers of clothing was he wearing?
Sweet Jesus. Did this man have no idea how to look after himself when he was ill?
"You haven't got any customers." She said it bluntly, hoping that it would get through. "And it's not cold in here, it's like an oven." She touched his forehead. "You're burning up." The last was softer, betraying the momentary fear she'd felt at seeing him slumped like that, but in the next moment she held out her hand to him, all matter-of-fact again. "Come. Leave the blanket. You need to be in bed, and you need to open a window and get these clothes off."
Reply
"Get... it's cold, though. So cold." Ollivander looked from the other room back into Rita's eyes, now able to focus a little. "Will you help me keep warm?" he asked in what he imagined would be something of a sultry voice. The fact that it just came out sounding a little pathetic was certainly none of his fault.
He did, however, stand and let the toast drop to the table. Reluctangly, he dropped the blanket over the chair and clutched his robes tighter around him as he let Rita lead him out of the kitchen and toward the stairs again.
"I've never been this cold before," he said meekly. "When do you suppose this horrible chill will pass?"
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