Mad World Mods (madworldmods) wrote in madworldrp, @ 2007-10-22 20:39:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | christine buchanan, kingsley shacklebolt |
Kingsley Shacklebolt and Christine Buchanan
LJ-SEC: (ORIGINALLY POSTED BY king_unshackled)
who → Kingsley Shacklebolt and Christine Buchanan
what → Ever-so-innocently sending an owl. Chance meeting. Hilarity!
when → Monday Evening
where → The Owlry
status → Incomplete
Kingsley hastily signed the letter, folding it up in a hurried manner. What could he say? His mum liked him to write at least once a week so she could make sure he was doing alright. He hadn't written to her over the weekend so he expected it was better late than never. He gestured for one of the school owls to fly down, and a rather handsome tawny owl landed on his shoulder. It stuck out his leg and he tied the letter to it.
"Well, off you go," he said, and the owl flew off his shoulder and out the window.
As much as Mrs. Buchanan disliked having owls fly into their pristine home, over the years she had become accustomed to it as a necessary evil if she were to hear from her lovely daughter throughout the school year. As she and her daughter were considerably close, months without contact between the two was an absurd idea. Which is why Christine currently was headed up toward the owlery with a thick envelope in hand.
She was obviously not the only one with such an idea, Christine noted as she entered the room. "Hello," she said airily to Kingsley. She motioned for a bird to come relieve her of her letter, but none came. She tried once more, to no avail.
"Honestly," she said under her breath. It wasn't as if she were asking them to carry off a bick or something heavy.
"Uh, hello," Kingsley said to Christine, raising an eyebrow. He laughed a little when he noticed that an owl hadn't come to her. "You should consider investing in your own, they're much more cooperative," he told her.
Kingsley noticed that Christine was extremely tall. Almost as tall as he was. She was wearing heels though, he knew this, because he knew she was no way that near his height. He shook his head. What were the point of heels that high?
"Thank you for that gem of advice," Christine replied politely. "I shall certainly keep that in mind."
There was no way that she would buy her own personal owl. They were smelly and dirty. In fact she could hardly stand the stench of this room and wrinkled up her nose as an owl finally flew down to her level. "Thank you," she told the owl as she attached the letter to it. "Mrs. Margaret Buchanan if you would be so kind."
Christine watched as the bird started to fly off and smiled. As she brought her hand up to push back her hair behind her ear, Christine noticed a white dropping on her red leather coat. "Oh my god," she breathed. It was incredible. First they refused to help her, and now they were ruining her clothing! "Nooooo..."
Kingsley stifled a laugh behind his hand. "That tends to happen with the school owls," he said, his voice shaking with suppressed laughter. "Another reason why it's better to have your own," he added. "But it comes off really easily. Scourgify is the spell. If you were curious," he said turning towards the door.
"But I'd watch where you step in those heels or they'll be covered in it too, and probably bits of dead mice," he added over his shoulder.
Excuse me, Christine wanted to turn around and ask. Despite the fact that Kingsley was taller, she was indeed older. Everything he knew, she knew, and then some. So who was he to be patronizing her in such a manner?
"Not on Italian leather it's not," Christine called out. "Magic of that nature will alter the material. And one does not want to alter a garmet of this quality."
Christine looked down at her shoes. It was amazing that they were not covered in excrements and dead mice already. But she wasn't about to take her chance on a return walk. "Well then. I guess you'll have to carry me."
"Carry you?" he asked, blinking. He stopped in his tracks. "Why would I even want to do that?" he asked, turning to look at her. "I'm sure you can make it to the door without getting shite on your shoe," he said. "I've managed," he added.
Kingsley sincerely hoped she was joking. Because if she wasn't he'd be forced to toss her over his shoulder and she would whine because of something. Prissy girls were just a bit more annoying than normal girls.
"Because you insulted me," Christine replied. "And I am deeply hurt." A look of sadness appeared on her face as she placed a hand on her heart.
"It would be the least you could do to make it up to me," she sniffled.
"How exactly did I insult you?" he asked calmly, not at all amused or convinced by her theatrics. Kingsley wasn't one for nonsense. "I don't recall insulting you at all."
If Christine weren't intent on not getting her shoes dirtied, she would have step forward to politely challenge his remark. Instead she pulled herself up higher and looked him straight in the eye.
"I was deeply insulted by your insinuation that my intelligence is lacking," she explained patiently. Then softly, and with intense sadness she continued, "I'm not just a pretty face."
She was possibly a nut. Kingsley rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you're a very intelligent pretty face," he said mockingly. He crossed his arms over his chest. It seemed like it was a standstill.
"If you're so terrified to walk to the door, you could always clear the path. You know. With magic, since you're a witch and all," he added, again making an effort not to laugh.
Lo, behold how he was continuing to mock her! Christine flinched as a bird dropping flew in front of her, landing a little close to comfort. She needed to leave now.
Did chivalry not exist in this world? Did solidarity disappear? Was it too much to ask that Kingsley carry her a few feet so she was out of this owlry? In Christine's mind, it was not.
"What a wonderful idea," Christine exclaimed. She reached for her wand, but finding it to be absent she said. "Oh silly me. I left my wand in the Common Room. I had assumed that on such a short trip, and magic being forbidden in the corridoors I would have no use for it. I decided to leave it in my dormitory, where it would be safe."
Feeling it unnecessary to address the fact that he had once again insulted her intelligence, Christine devised a new plan of action. "Could you help me," she asked, taking the sweet and innocent approach. "Please?"
"I had no idea people left their wands away from themselves like that," Kingsley said. "I tend to keep mine on me at all times, I suppose that's an Auror tendency though," he added, rolling his eyes.
It seemed rather pathetic to him that this girl was so high maintenance that she couldn't walk ten steps to the door because there may possibly be a bit of dried bird dung on the floor. God forbid it get on her shoes because it certainly wouldn't come out with water, right?
"How might I be able to assist you then?" he asked her, raising an eyebrow.
"Well it was meant to be a short trip," Chrstine explained. "I hadn't expected to have a large delay in returning to my dormitory."
Was he actually offering to help her? "Well since you offered, I would be oblidged to accept if you were to offer to carry me to safety."
"Is it really that terrifying to have to dodge a little bird feces?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You'd keep your dignity if you just walked. You do like having dignity don't you?"
He was right. Merde. And there was nothing Christine could do about it. She had originally come up with the idea because he was being an insufferable insulting know-it-all.
"Would you then please assist me by clearing a path so that I may maneuver myself out of this dilemna," Christine asked. "