To be wicked does not insure prosperity

[dodropdead]

Who: Draco Malfoy, Isaiah Boswell, open for silliness
What: A new face for the Inn
Where: The Dew Drop Inn
When: Mid-afternoon, Saturday, June 10th, 2000
Status: Incomplete

Comments

[mister_draco]

Draco needed to get away from everything - people, The Leaky, all of it. If he did not he was likely to go bark raving mad. Everyone was getting on his last nerve and if one more person joked that it was his time of the month, he was going to hex them. If people were not such twits, there would not be such an issue. How was it his fault that half-wits surrounded him? Although, one suggestion someone gave had made him think. Maybe, he just needed to get drunk and shagged. Cut loose and be fancy free for once in his entire life. Not do the proper and expected thing

[dodropdead]

It wasn't really a desk, per se. It was an island in the kitchen that found itself heaped with mail and newspapers and crayon drawings and whatever trinkets got left behind each day by rushed and sloppy patrons. A fine watch, a hot pink quill that shivered when you looked at it, a fake beard, a wood carving of a house elf with a squashed face. Still, Isaiah leaned against it like a proud podium, eyes unseeing, pushing his finger through a jar of what could have been black sand until Draco spoke. That was when he jumped, staring at Draco in surprise for almost a full minute before, slowly, his hand had made its way to his chest to tug at his robe, the other scratching in his hair