milliways_bar | (no subject)

It's unusual, really, to see the star much of anywhere on her own.

But she's there all the same - curled up in one of the armchairs near the fire with her legs over the armrest and a long white jacket slung over her lap. There's a neat slice on the side of one coatsleeve and a larger hole in the shoulder - and the fine, white string she's attempting to wrangle has stubbornly wound its way down her arm and doesn't seem particularly inclined to cooperate with any amount of frustrated glaring.

She's terrible at this. (Which, truthfully, is most of the motivation for not attempting it upstairs - where certain people could wake up and see.)

She's terrible at it, but that doesn't seem to make her particularly inclined to give up. She continues on, frowning stubbornly, curses soft and mumbled against bleeding fingers and messily tended material.

Interruption would be a blessing. Unless you happen to be a very angry sewing needle offended by the sort of language your tiny, prickly child might be picking up, mind you.

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"All right!"

"I will hide in my cabin."

She arcs an eyebrow.

"Bravely."

He snorts out a laugh, nearly choking on his current candy of choice.

"It's okay - I won't tell anyone."

"You better not," she narrows her eyes in a mock-threat. "I know pirates."

She pops something rather chocolaty into her mouth innocently.

"I'll know them too, if I come and catch lightning," he says smugly, sticking his tongue out.

His expression becomes a grin.

She narrows her eyes into a rather unimpressive glare - purposefully, given her usual glaring standards are more than impressive.

"Ah, but they were my pirates first."

Arguing is refreshing.

"So? I can still take them. They'll like me better because I'll be out there helping them!"

Oh, you are a crafty child, James Potter.

"Snatching pirates?" the grin spreads slowly across her face. "I rather like your style."

James grins, laughing quite happily.

He is rather pleased with himself, really, and makes it known.

"Thank you!"

"You're most welcome."

The shimmering is a bit more apparent, possibly the brightest that it has been in days. (It's not worried nor fretting - just genuinely pleased.

"I do not buy candies for just any boys."

"Well, I'm very glad to have met you then, Yvaine, because my mum and dad would never let me have this much of it."

He grabs the plate of cauldron cakes and picks one up, taking a bite.

"Well," she leans forward, whispering conspiratorially. "We will just have to keep this our secret, yes?"

She picks up another something-or-other with a shrug.

"I'm pretty sure that I'd get in trouble too."

"It's a deal," he says, mouth half-full with baked goodness.

"Who would you get in trouble with?"

She snatches a napkin off of the cart and offers it out to him - there's a bit of chocolate ... well, everywhere.

"The boy," she rolls her eyes, but the grin is a bit helpless. "Inappropriate language, too many sweets, not sharing the too many sweets with him."

Oh - well, James is not known as a particularly tidy eater. He takes the napkin gratefully and begins to wipe at his mouth sheepishly.

"Ah. It does sound like you'd get into loads of trouble, then." He laughs. "Your secret's safe with me."

It's just as well, really. She's not easily offended.

"I'll just have to bring some of the leftovers up for him later," she replies. "Is there anything particularly tasty?"

"Um..."

He picks out several items - some cauldron cakes (his favourite), pumpkin pasties, chocolate frogs, and a package of Fizzing Whizbees.

"These are good. All of it is, really, but those are some of my favourites."

She lets him pile them on her lap, packages neatly arranged atop of the rather abandoned coat. (She'll worry about that later.)

"And you have no saved me from any lecturing," she laughs brightly. "I am sincerely in your debt."

James grins.

"You can always return the favour later," he says mischievously, and not without a laugh.

"I very well could," she nods solemnly, eyes impishly bright. "Should the opportunity arise."

She's had plenty of practice with escaping the wrath of parents.

He pulls a couple of treats into his pockets, then straightens.

"Well, I should probably go and find someone who might know magic," he explains. "I'm trying to throw a party for my big brother, you see, and we need a heating spell."

"I do hope that your mission is successful," she grins. "And thank you kindly for your fine company, sir."

She tilts her chin and takes back up her needle and string determinedly - she'll try again. Briefly.

"I'm sure that I will be seeing you."

"Oh, you will! I'm Bound here, so I'm pretty much always here, anyway."

Is that him making a face? Possibly.

Okay, yes. Yes, it is.

"Now that is a royal pain."

She wrinkles her nose distastefully.

"If I ask Tristran nicely, I will see what we can do about getting you somewhere other than here -" she's fairly certain it would work out - he's magical anyhow. "It does get boring after too terribly long in a row."

"Really?" He blinks. "Wow, that would be cool! You mean go to your world, and all that?"

There is distinct beaming.

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an_evening_star - 2007-10-23 12:43 (UTC) - Expand

notthatpotter - 2007-10-23 15:47 (UTC) - Expand