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Draco (draco_dormiens_) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Draco's eyes narrowed, wondering if he was being mocked. He looked familiar?

He bristled all the more at being corrected on his attempt at correction, pursing his lips. "My mistake," Draco said stiffly. "Perhaps I couldn't read your handwriting." He went to cross his arms, then changed his mind and shoved his hands into the pockets of his robes, the whole movement very awkward. "You should probably not put much stead in people who go by names that contain three zeds in a row," he added. "They sound dubious."

Draco's own curiosity was beginning to get the better of him. This- boy? - was oddly charming. His cheerfulness was warming the needy little part of Draco's soul that he refused to acknowledge. He was his own personal dementor sometimes. His expression softened. "It's going to be an apothecary. The supplies are due over the weekend." Draco looked around the bare walls of the front of the shop. "I may well be more successful mongering shelves, though." He pursed his lips again, though this time he was just slightly more thoughtful than before. "How would one go about mongering a wish? Selling wishes sound suspiciously like concocting love potions and handing out pieces of rock for luck." He touched his fingers to the counter beside him and then drew back, as though surprised at his own attempts at conversing with this-

"Draco," he said. "My name. Draco."