harry potter (bl_harry) wrote in bloodlines_rp, @ 2009-07-30 04:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | harry potter, hermione granger, loc: ministry of magic, sept 2002, type: rp |
Date & Time: Thursday September 30 | afternoon
Post Type: RP
Status: Open: Private
Character(s): Harry Potter and Hermione Granger
Location: The Ministry
Summary: Harry brings Hermione coffee because they haven't really spoken lately.
True to his word, Harry had been attempting to catch up on sleep the past few nights by nearly depleting his stock of Dreamless Sleep potion. He'd started needing more of it than he used to for it to work, and it was beginning to trouble him. He had enough on his plate without a potions dependence. Still, as much as he was accustomed to sleeping little, there was only so much he could stand all at once. As much as he disliked having to rely on anything to get by, he saw little harm if he kept his use in the short-term. What point it stopped being short-term, he wasn't sure, and wasn't comfortable thinking about.
The thing was, he had too many other things on his mind to get too anxious about the potions. The most recent addition to his multiplying number of concerns was a few changes he had noticed. Harry had bid a very relieved farewell to finding new and strange things going on with his body when puberty had ended, and he was not particularly pleased. The first sign had been his eyes no longer seeming to need the aid of glasses, at least not for (it seemed) rather unpredictable periods of time. Then, just this morning, his trouser legs had been much too short - which for some short men may have been a cause of much rejoicing, but Harry just found it troublesome. He'd performed a few simple spells to lengthen them, and found from magical measurements that he now stood three inches taller than usual.
Harry had set this alarming issue aside, knowing no other way to deal with it at present and having an awful lot of work waiting for him at the office. He dodged people all day, trying to appear shorter by slouching much more than usual, and remained mostly at his desk, perusing stacks of files for evidence. He took such diligent notes that he was certain Hermione would be proud of him, but soon he was tired and frustrated because nothing that turned up was seeming of any use at all, and as he sat there gripping his quill and gritting his teeth and thinking about how frustrated he was, his inkwell spontaneously exploded.
He sat there dripping in ink and shock for a full ten seconds before he even considered moving. When people started peering over at him from their desks and over dividers, he waved a hand and them and flushed and muttered something about an accident and soon they were all back to work, though he was sure he saw someone collecting on a bet.
Right. Time for coffee.
Harry rarely took breaks, but it rather seemed like he needed one and for once he was too frazzled to argue with his good sense. In fact, he was so amenable to the idea of a break that he found himself wandering to another floor, two coffees in hand, to a friend far away from the spilled ink and fruitless files of the DMLE. Well, as far away as you could really get in the Ministry.
He was still covered in ink when he arrived at Hermione's desk and, with a strained smile, offered her a coffee. "Hi," he said.