RP: Picnic, Party, Pig?
Date: 27 August 1998
Characters: Bill and Fleur Weasley and EVERYONE (please add tag as you arrive)
Location: Shell Cottage
Status: Primarily Public
Summary: The picnic has arrived.
Completion: InComplete
If Bill had know that it would take all day to roast a pig, he'd have conscripted some help after the Quidditch match yesterday to dig the pit. As it was, the day was off to a less than pleasant start, when he'd moved to sleepily cuddle with Fleur on waking only to find she was already up, starting the food preparations. And instead of being game for a morning shag, she pointed out to the backyard, informing him that they had to start on the pit now, and that he should make himself useful. She promised she'd make it up to him, but that did little to ease his petulance.
So, with some toast thrust at him, he was pushed outside to begin digging out the trench for the pig roast. And as much as he was looking forward to all the meat his wolfish tendencies could stand, part of him was sulking at being put off. He went to the spot designated, on the northeast corner of their yard, away from the gardens, and tugged off his shirt, beginning to dig. An hour later, he stopped, surveying the trench with a critical eye. He'd softened the dirt magically, making it easier to dig, and had used a support charm to keep the sides from caving in. Spells aside, he was too used to digging, thanks to Mum and Fleur to not feel like a cheater doing it any other way.
He moved to do a second, more shallow trench for extra cooking space, finishing and moving to transfigure some supports for whatever kind of roasting Fleur wanted to do. He built the fire in the deeper pit, having been informed that they needed about a foot of coals. He'd consulted Flitwick on a good burning charm, and in no time, he'd gotten the fire going such that they'd have enough coals in about a half an hour, instead of 4 hours.
After checking in with Fleur, Bill moved to the beach and began levitating rocks up to line the roasting pit. He was sweaty, hungry, and not a little dirty. When he got enough to line the on top of the fire, now ready to take the roast, he leveled it out, laying down pea gravel before putting the rocks in. Transfiguring an old pot into a wire sheet for the pig to sit on, he set the pig into the pit, supervised by Fleur, and covered it in a transfigured cover. bottom, he took off to the beach to clean off, before climbing back to the house to get a the pig to set it to roast. He really wanted a kip and something to drink, but there was a few more things Fleur wanted him to do before company arrived. He'd brought several cases of butterbeer home on Friday, and would mix up some punch closer to their guests arrival.
After getting a sandwich to eat, Bill eyed Fleur working on the potato salad he'd asked for, and when she turned to see him watching her, it was all over. A short time later, both of them were sweatyy, disheveled, and he'd never be able to look at the kitchen table without his ears going red. He dragged her upstairs to clean up, both of them a bit nervous at being caught out. They had cut it awfully close. He tugged on a snug tank top and a pair of cut off denims, and went down to continue setup. He wanted to reinforce the charms on the railing he'd put in earlier that week for the path down to the beach. He grabbed some more of the extra wood and transfigured a serving table, in addition to the other tables they'd created the day before. Those, in addition to the pile of blankets, would hopefully suit all the company they'd invited. The Fidelius was down, so folks would be able to apparate right in whenever they pleased.
Characters: Bill and Fleur Weasley and EVERYONE (please add tag as you arrive)
Location: Shell Cottage
Status: Primarily Public
Summary: The picnic has arrived.
Completion: InComplete
If Bill had know that it would take all day to roast a pig, he'd have conscripted some help after the Quidditch match yesterday to dig the pit. As it was, the day was off to a less than pleasant start, when he'd moved to sleepily cuddle with Fleur on waking only to find she was already up, starting the food preparations. And instead of being game for a morning shag, she pointed out to the backyard, informing him that they had to start on the pit now, and that he should make himself useful. She promised she'd make it up to him, but that did little to ease his petulance.
So, with some toast thrust at him, he was pushed outside to begin digging out the trench for the pig roast. And as much as he was looking forward to all the meat his wolfish tendencies could stand, part of him was sulking at being put off. He went to the spot designated, on the northeast corner of their yard, away from the gardens, and tugged off his shirt, beginning to dig. An hour later, he stopped, surveying the trench with a critical eye. He'd softened the dirt magically, making it easier to dig, and had used a support charm to keep the sides from caving in. Spells aside, he was too used to digging, thanks to Mum and Fleur to not feel like a cheater doing it any other way.
He moved to do a second, more shallow trench for extra cooking space, finishing and moving to transfigure some supports for whatever kind of roasting Fleur wanted to do. He built the fire in the deeper pit, having been informed that they needed about a foot of coals. He'd consulted Flitwick on a good burning charm, and in no time, he'd gotten the fire going such that they'd have enough coals in about a half an hour, instead of 4 hours.
After checking in with Fleur, Bill moved to the beach and began levitating rocks up to line the roasting pit. He was sweaty, hungry, and not a little dirty. When he got enough to line the on top of the fire, now ready to take the roast, he leveled it out, laying down pea gravel before putting the rocks in. Transfiguring an old pot into a wire sheet for the pig to sit on, he set the pig into the pit, supervised by Fleur, and covered it in a transfigured cover. bottom, he took off to the beach to clean off, before climbing back to the house to get a the pig to set it to roast. He really wanted a kip and something to drink, but there was a few more things Fleur wanted him to do before company arrived. He'd brought several cases of butterbeer home on Friday, and would mix up some punch closer to their guests arrival.
After getting a sandwich to eat, Bill eyed Fleur working on the potato salad he'd asked for, and when she turned to see him watching her, it was all over. A short time later, both of them were sweatyy, disheveled, and he'd never be able to look at the kitchen table without his ears going red. He dragged her upstairs to clean up, both of them a bit nervous at being caught out. They had cut it awfully close. He tugged on a snug tank top and a pair of cut off denims, and went down to continue setup. He wanted to reinforce the charms on the railing he'd put in earlier that week for the path down to the beach. He grabbed some more of the extra wood and transfigured a serving table, in addition to the other tables they'd created the day before. Those, in addition to the pile of blankets, would hopefully suit all the company they'd invited. The Fidelius was down, so folks would be able to apparate right in whenever they pleased.