milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Removing the snow from atop the wooden picnic table had been easy enough and Scorpius, now with his robes properly charmed to repel water and insulated to protect him from the cold, is lying atop of it.

With an almost half-empty bottle of (pilfered-from-his-friend) Ogden's Old forgotten beside him, a fire curling in his belly, and an old, charred broom at his feet.

He had been working on a modified charm for the broom. It hadn't turned out as well as he would've liked, as evident by the charred (and still smoking) remains of bristles.

He's obviously not too bothered by the experiment gone wrong. Maybe the firewhiskey helped or maybe it's just one of those days. Peacefully perfect - or perfectly peaceful - and he can't be bothered to care.

He's just going to enjoy the oncoming night, gloved fingers curled loosely around the neck of the bottle.

[OOC: Back! Open until it scrolls.]

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"That makes sense,"

Since the magic is different, he can't see it to figure things out as he would with the Charter, but it sounds fascinating.

"There was an article in a Quidditch periodical I read recently about the inner workings of a broom and their charms. I wanted to try the modifica -"

He's interrupted by a high-pitched piercing ring from the broom.

"Do you still have it? I'd love to see how your charms work? That doesn't seem right."

"I've it in the dorm. I can leave it for you with Bar the next time, if I remember he says," Scorpius says, frowning and giving the broom a nudge with his foot.

The high-pitched whine descends to a soft hum before silencing completely.

"I think that was the anti-theft charm I'd put on it malfunctioning."

"I'll get it from Bar if I'm that curious. Its loud. Anything bothering you?"

Sam isn't good with people but Nick or Kait would say something since that's nice whiskey.

Scorpius shrugs. Nothing on the surface is bothering him and it'd take much Parker-provided poking before he realizes there is.

"No, just seemed like a nice night to have a drink. Would you like some more?"

He offers the bottle to Sameth again.

"Its nice,"

It is, the heat goes all the way down which is nice and Sam takes another swig.

"Ogden's Old Firewhiskey. That's what it's called."

Scorpius confirms this with some quick, narrow-eyed inspecting of the label.

"A reasonably priced brand."

"Good and warming. There's also a fire in the forge if you need it."

"Oh, I'm not that cold," Scorpius says, turning his peering gaze in the direction of the aforementioned forge with a frown. "My robes have been spelled. Are you?"

"My cloak's fine and I've been in there long enough, I'm not that cold. How have you spelled your robes?"

"Oh."

Scorpius sits up again, pulling off his gloves to show Sameth the inside hem of one sleeve.

"See, uhm, the clothiers - Some of them, anyway. They've put dormant spells in the threads for you that you can activate. It can be tricky if you try to do it yourself and it won't work on common threads, I don't think. Or maybe the spells are woven into the fabric itself, I don't really know.

"Anyway, so you can activate them so long as you know the proper incantations, which, generally, of course, they'd give you when you buy the robes. This one was done to keep you warm.

"A little too warm, sometimes," he adds, giving his collar a tug.

"That's a good idea,"

Sam looks at the bottle to see how much is left and wonders how much Scorpius has had already.

While half the bottle might nearly be gone, Scorpius hasn't had it all for himself. He's not absurdly drunk, anyway.

And he won't suffer much for what he has had. A good night's sleep and potion would cure him of any headache and nausea in the morning.

"What were you working on in the forge?"

"Not much. I'm between things so making some horseshoes and arrowheads along with some small repairs."

"How'd that one thing go? Sorry, I forgot what it was, but you were working on it when we met?"

His brow furrows as he tries to remember. It's probably not very important, seeing as it was ages ago, but he'd only remembered it just now.

"I think you were looking at locks?"

"A cabinet for Mia, I finished it a while ago. Are you done with school for the year?"

"Not quite," Scorpius grumps and then shrugs. "I've actually got Quidditch practice in the morning. The captain wants us on the pitch early."

He gives the bottle another glance.

"I probably shouldn't have anymore, remembering that."

"I can make some tea if that would help,"

He doesn't seem happy but Sam's not good with people.

"No, don't bother. The captain will be displeased, but I don't think he's ever happy with us, anyway. He's very..."

Scorpius furrow his brow, as if in imitation.

"...serious. Very, very serious about his Quidditch. I think he'll go on to play professionally, actually."

"Oh that sort. They win games but aren't always fun."

"Not always, no," Scorpius agrees with a laugh. "He has us running around on the ground. For a game that involves flying."

He shrugs, still grinning, rather goofy-like.

"But, he isn't that awful. I've learned some neat tricks from him."

"It never hurts to know how to run, keeps you on your toes. If you want another way to practice, I need to do some sparring,"

Since clearly using a sword will help just as much.

"Maybe it doesn't hurt to know, but that doesn't mean I want to be doing so at half five in the morning."

He raises an eyebrow.

"Sparring?"

"Swords, I try and practice but I've been sick so haven't for a while."