Who: Penelope and Marcus What: 'Discussions'. When: Tuesday evening Where: The Falcon Office Rating: TBD, maybe some language Status: In Progress
Ever since Olivers little stunt on her front lawn on Sunday morning, Penny had been like a bear with a sore head. She'd been far from her more cheerful side and had even kept to the back office all throughout Monday, nursing the cup of coffee in the same way she was looking after her growing temper that was brewing. And now, the Prophet had printed an article which was only semi true announcing to the world that she - a serious political candidate who had very little actual experience had former Pro Quidditch players serenading her in a Muggle neighbourhood. Life was peachy.
Still, she was determined to continue her work with the stats for the Falcons, the guilt she'd felt assuaged since Roger was no longer speaking to her. Or Oliver for that matter. Men were arses, clearly and the bad mood she was in wasn't helped by the letter she'd received that morning. It wasn't the first threatening letter she'd gotten since announcing her candidacy but this one had managed to get under her skin with its threats not against her life, but of those she held dear. Penny was perfectly aware of what it was like to lose someone and she wouldn't put her family through that but nor would she withdraw her candidacy.
Annoyed at the whole situation and the turn of her thoughts, she cast a glance across the room to Marcus and simply because he seemed so engrossed in his work, glared at him. The papers she'd finished going through were flopped onto the desk beside her with a loud, audible thump. And just for good measure, she added a scowl. It wasn't fair; he looked thoroughly distracted by his work and she could barely concentrate on the numbers in front of her.