fill: Pants Parkinson and the Morning After, pg, 1/3curiouslyficApril 22 2012, 21:45:09 UTC
Pansy slips out of bed and promises herself she won’t even look at the mess from last night yet, she’ll just tunnel-vision her way to the kitchen for a cuppa to properly wake herself up first. It’s a small thing but it’s a choice she gets to make and honestly, who needs to start the day inventorying the breakage before the Reparos start?
Not her.
George is still sleeping when she leaves, sprawled across the bed in a position that looks awkward enough to reassure her he’s out cold. As well he should be, she thinks, because maybe he won’t remember what he’s been up to but she does and honestly, her Earless has earned his rest.
She gets as far as the door to the living room before her tunnel-vision plan fails, though she counts it as a victory that what catches her attention is Draco, wild-haired and glassy-eyed, sitting like a wreck of humanity on her couch and staring at nothing. It’s no trouble at all to see he’s had a good night, too, red blotches on his neck darkening nicely into marks and clothes in the disarray that can only
( ... )
Re: fill: Pants Parkinson and the Morning After, pg, 2/3curiouslyficApril 22 2012, 21:46:17 UTC
Draco turns a bit stubborn then, digs in his heels. “Not sure, actually. It’s…Not one I recognized, at any rate.” His eyebrow hikes a little, the attitude she expects of him
( ... )
Re: fill: Pants Parkinson and the Morning After, pg, 3/3curiouslyficApril 22 2012, 21:46:57 UTC
Draco prevaricates for a moment, bright-eyed and comfortably mischievous, but it’s clear as day he wants to tell her.
So he does, and she listens, and they’re well into it when the sounds start up in the living room, the Floo rushing to life because they’ve left it ungrated so people could get home last night without splinching or passing out on the Knight Bus. She’d worry about it but she can hear George puttering about out there, talking to someone and sounding happy, and since that’s all that matters, her Earless being happy with himself and life this morning, she’s not much fussed about the details.
Then George is strolling into the kitchen, one of his brothers just behind him, and Pansy doesn’t realize how much she’s been worried about things being right with Draco until she sees how Charlie looks this morning, every bit as bright-eyed and mauled.
“Someone want to tell me why I found this lurking about my Floo this morning?” George asks, tipping his head back at Charlie, who flushes and poorly hides his uncertainty. He’s
( ... )
Not her.
George is still sleeping when she leaves, sprawled across the bed in a position that looks awkward enough to reassure her he’s out cold. As well he should be, she thinks, because maybe he won’t remember what he’s been up to but she does and honestly, her Earless has earned his rest.
She gets as far as the door to the living room before her tunnel-vision plan fails, though she counts it as a victory that what catches her attention is Draco, wild-haired and glassy-eyed, sitting like a wreck of humanity on her couch and staring at nothing. It’s no trouble at all to see he’s had a good night, too, red blotches on his neck darkening nicely into marks and clothes in the disarray that can only ( ... )
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So he does, and she listens, and they’re well into it when the sounds start up in the living room, the Floo rushing to life because they’ve left it ungrated so people could get home last night without splinching or passing out on the Knight Bus. She’d worry about it but she can hear George puttering about out there, talking to someone and sounding happy, and since that’s all that matters, her Earless being happy with himself and life this morning, she’s not much fussed about the details.
Then George is strolling into the kitchen, one of his brothers just behind him, and Pansy doesn’t realize how much she’s been worried about things being right with Draco until she sees how Charlie looks this morning, every bit as bright-eyed and mauled.
“Someone want to tell me why I found this lurking about my Floo this morning?” George asks, tipping his head back at Charlie, who flushes and poorly hides his uncertainty. He’s ( ... )
Reply
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