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[orestes_bride]

I was in a strange mood last week. It was like the things around me refused their Platonic cloaks and achieved definition only through a network of connections, face value continually yielding to context and history. I suppose that's how I see the world in general but the heightened awareness was unusual. Too much apparating and portkeying over

Comments

[pottersfield]

Platonic cloaks? Is that something a person actually wears?

And sure, I can come by for dinner. Can't speak for Ginny, of course.

[orestes_bride]

Residual strangeness, what can I say. Though I'm sure someone, somewhere has tried to make a go of it - possibly in silver lamé.

It'd be nice to see the two of you together but I'll be happy either way. I'm rather pleased with my kitchen at the moment.

[pottersfield]

Gold lamé is more to my liking.

You're pleased with your kitchen? You do know that's a very Molly thing to say, somehow. Is it heaped with food?

[orestes_bride]

I think I'll make you the Platonic ideal of a cloak in gold lamé, then. Your birthday is coming up after all.

Molly is a far better cook than I'll ever be. And at the moment it's heaped with decorative greenery, so I'm not just being modest.

[runsinthefamily]

I'm game if Harry is. And I'm sure Harry's game.

What is a platonic cloak, anyway?

[orestes_bride]

Good! Be here by seven if you can, then.

And I don't know. It's just a weird image that kept gnawing at me, a physical trace of friction between the fact that there is no ultimate truth to the universe, and the practical necessity of belief in contingent truths so that we can go about our day-to-day lives without going mad along the way.

I think I'll make Harry's cloak reversible.

[runsinthefamily]

Shall do.

I think Harry would look absolutely spiffing in a reversible cloak. What do you say, Harry?

[pottersfield]

What's going to be on the reverse side?