Dark Dissension

Invitations for the following (plus 1 guest)

Ms Hannah Abbott
Mr Jude Alderton
Mr Laetus Chambers
Ms Seren Fawcett
Mr Justin Finch-Fletchley
Mr Seamus Finnigan
Ms Daphne Greengrass
Ms Ainsley Innis
Mr Neville Longbottom
Ms Morag MacDougal
Mr Harry Potter
Ms Demelza Robins
Mr Zacharias Smith
Ms Nephthys Spinks
Mr Dean Thomas

( Invitations by express owl post )

Who: Demelza Robins & Harry Potter
What: Mel and Harry decide Scrimgeour is one sexy mofo. Guess which scenario we picked? (And modified, because Ruth is made of fail and already tagged.)
Where: London. Mainly Scrimgeour's place
When: 12th March, evening
Rating: PG-13ish for language
Status: Open; incomplete

Harry pushed the chips in his hand around a bit, fingers prodding the greasy, vinegar soaked chips and making them move about the newspaper clutched in his hand. The smell wafting off them was delicious and he rather wanted to shove the lot of them in his mouth. It was a pity his stomach was protesting eating anything else.

Eyeing them, he sighed and offered the newspaper over to Demelza. "You want them?" he asked before continuing where he'd left off, "Anyway, like I was saying, Scrimgeour is...well, he's not bad for an old bloke, really. I mean, he's nothing special or anything but it's not like he's really bloody ugly, is it? He's got all that...hair."

That was rather a lame compliment, he knew, but it was the first thing that had came to mind.

Who: Nora and open
Where: A chip shop on the pier
When: Saturday night
What: Nora goes out with Dan the Plumber at Harry's insistence. (No idea what happens from there - I simply thought it'd be an amusing open thread.)
Rating: PG-13 for swearing, most likely
Status: OPEN; in progress

"I said, of course, you can't bloody put your hand down my knickers." Nora was growing obviously irritated. "This is a chip shop - can't you read the sign? You can't very well rent it by the hour." She watched as Dan rolled his eye at her, then shoved another chip into his mouth. It was truly amazing how many he'd the capacity to shove in at one time. Perhaps you should have tried the tart cards, Nora told herself. At least when you pay someone, you might be able to expect them to behave.

With a sigh, she leaned against the table, her eyes looking out across the crowded room, begging someone- anyone - to spill hot coffee on her so that she'd have to jump up and go to the emergency. And be so horribly scarred she could never go out with the man again.

Or something of that nature, any road.