sea breeze of change

[selfmade_crouch]

Barty was feeling intensely miffed. Regulus was gone. He'd had plans for rubbing certain things in Regulus's face and or making Severus Snape a cuckold. Well, consider those plans canceled. Albus was enough of a puzzle, or if not a puzzle then at least a man of such depth, that he had something to do most days

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[manwithstyle]

Despite the lack of magic, there were certain habits that were hard to break. For one Albus Dumbledore, such habits included the uncanny ability to seemingly appear out of nowhere. It was, in fact, an ability he chose to demonstrate at precisely that very moment, suddenly, or, rather, what appeared to be suddenly, walking alongside Bartemius.

"I find myself questioning your choice of trousers," he announced cheerfully.

[selfmade_crouch]

"I find myself questioning your future politics," Barty returned dryly and without a hitch, raising an eyebrow and looking sideways at the greatest wizard of all time, almost.

"But I don't swoop out of nowhere and harass you about them, do I."

[manwithstyle]

"Now, now, I should think this hardly qualifies as harassment," replied Albus, staring at the trousers quite intently, as though they were an interesting puzzle. "Merely an opinion. And, as you undoubtedly know, I question my future politics as well."

[selfmade_crouch]

"Then you must assume I have my own lingering doubts about my trousers," Barty said, smirking, then outright grinning at the other man.

"I've got a bottle of firewhiskey in my pants. Not that I'm not also happy to see you."

[poison_pearl]

From my seat on the sand I shade my eyes at the approach of another paser-by, and find myself suppressing an incredulous look at the trousers he has chosen.

But then, why suppress it. "The height of fashion, are they?" I call, draining the amusement I feel from my voice and storing it up in my head, instead, leaving only mild curiousity in the words.

[selfmade_crouch]

Barty barked a laugh, and looked down as he stopped.

"No. Probably the lowest depth of it, in fact. Bloody convenient though, with no magic at hand." He lifted an unmistakably appraising eyebrow, looking her over.

"Are you comfortable in that?"

[poison_pearl]

I cast a careless look down at myself. "As a matter of fact, I am; more comfortable than I would be in the kerchiefs some on this island pass off as clothing," I say, setting my book to the side.

[selfmade_crouch]

"You should meet Albus Dumbledore," Barty told her dryly. "Your sartorial tastes would run a bloody ground of each other."

[bitchofthejulii]

This sunscreen lotion was a marvellous thing Atia was convinced of it. Yet she still did not want to brave the direct sun, wishing she had someone to build her a shelter of Palm fronds, or to perhaps simply hold one above her for shade.

"You, boy!" she called out to the man passing by where she stood near a nest of blankets and cushions she had set up in the sand. "Assist me. Please." She added the last grudgingly, and stiffly."

[selfmade_crouch]

Barty stopped, eyes widening, and he looked over with some incredulity to the imperious woman.

"...How?" he asked doubtfully and with a vaguely aristocratic curl of lip.

[bitchofthejulii]

"I wish for some shade," It seemed simple enough. Would these people never understand? Atia tried to remember what she had been told over and over since arriving her, forcing sweetness into her tone, as if she were trying to win someone to her side. "It would be a comfortable place to lounge, and I do not wished to be burnt."

[selfmade_crouch]

"So the gist," Barty said, strolling over, "just to be clear, is I would stand there in the traditional role of a slave or cabana boy and hold a large palm frond over you as you relaxed and did nothing." He cocked his head slightly to one side.

"What, pray tell, would the reward for this be? For as much as I surely would not wish you burnt, I don't much fancy it either."