(no subject)
Date/Time: 'LGBtH', Wednesday, November 11th, 1 p.m.
Location: Quidditch Pitch
Open To: Absolutely Anyone!
Currently involving: Laurence
Ahh, it was nice. The past few weeks had been so taxing that Laurie had barely had time to really put much effort into the Pitch. He'd told Dumbledore that he was going to spruce it up for the new season, and after the fall of You-Know-Who, things were finally looking up.
He'd gone down early, sometime around six a.m., and had been out there ever since.
Laurie was one to rely on his Muggle blood when it came to hard work. No, he wouldn't wave his wand and fix everything. He would put elbow grease into it, because it made the end result that much more satisfying.
He was halfway up the Slytherin stands, a large paintbrush between his teeth as he gripped the ropes he'd fixed on a levy system to pull him up. He grunted, readjusted, then pulled the brush out to paint the next section of worn, peeling wood. Brilliant forest green strokes covered the faded green, and it was looking fantastic.
Of the nine sets of stands, two were red, two were yellow, two were blue, and one and a half were green. He only had the rest of the Slytherin stands, followed by the head stands where the professors and important visitors sat. He hadn't decided on a colour for those yet, but had contemplated purple. It reminded him of the Wizengamot, which made sense. Royalty, higher-ups, all that jazz.
What time was it, anyway?
Location: Quidditch Pitch
Open To: Absolutely Anyone!
Currently involving: Laurence
Ahh, it was nice. The past few weeks had been so taxing that Laurie had barely had time to really put much effort into the Pitch. He'd told Dumbledore that he was going to spruce it up for the new season, and after the fall of You-Know-Who, things were finally looking up.
He'd gone down early, sometime around six a.m., and had been out there ever since.
Laurie was one to rely on his Muggle blood when it came to hard work. No, he wouldn't wave his wand and fix everything. He would put elbow grease into it, because it made the end result that much more satisfying.
He was halfway up the Slytherin stands, a large paintbrush between his teeth as he gripped the ropes he'd fixed on a levy system to pull him up. He grunted, readjusted, then pulled the brush out to paint the next section of worn, peeling wood. Brilliant forest green strokes covered the faded green, and it was looking fantastic.
Of the nine sets of stands, two were red, two were yellow, two were blue, and one and a half were green. He only had the rest of the Slytherin stands, followed by the head stands where the professors and important visitors sat. He hadn't decided on a colour for those yet, but had contemplated purple. It reminded him of the Wizengamot, which made sense. Royalty, higher-ups, all that jazz.
What time was it, anyway?