The Last Station

Did everyone have a nice weekend? I had a great weekend. Really, just the best. You might say it was twice as great as any other weekend I ever had. You should all be super pumped for tonight's match against my former team, The Harpies! We have been in a kind of slump lately (myself most especially) but I have a really good vibe about tonight. I am definitely on the top of my game, I can feel it. Go Hydras!!

Warded to Harry
Stop freaking out. I know you are. Stop it.

Warded to Pansy Parkinson
You and I, we're not friends. I doubt we will ever be friends. But I swear, if you hurt Hermione with what you two have going on, you will find me at your door with a hex on my breath that you will never forget. If it is an elaborate joke, if you plan on embarrassing her in any way or blackmailing her with this information, I'll punch you square in your tits and you won't get up for days.

...if it is the case that this is something real, for fuck's sake, don't be a prick about it. Don't be charge in there like a hippogriff in a cauldron shop, she's going to need some time to adjust to everything. I'm not saying she's fragile or anything of the sort, Hermione is someone who analyzes everything, and if she doesn't understand it, she will need time to process it. Do we understand each other?

Who: Romilda and Lisa
What: dinner and more
Where: Lisa's flat
When: Tuesday evening
Rating: NSFW
Status: ongoing complete!

Dressed in a low-cut black top and a skirt, Lisa greeted Romilda at the door to her flat with a kiss on her cheek before stepping aside to invite her in. Romilda had been on her mind since Sunday morning, and she'd spent all day looking forward to this evening. Preparing dinner for someone who cooked for a living ought to have been more intimidating than it was, but Lisa knew the limits of her talents in the kitchen and planned accordingly. For the main dish, she'd gone with pasta in a lemon-cream sauce, with hazelnut blondies for dessert.

"Hungry?" she asked, taking Romilda's coat. "Or can I get you a drink?"

Who: Open
What: Harpies at Hydras
When: Tonight at 7pm
Where: Bertie Botts Stadium
Rating: ?
Status: Ongoing

( Harpies at Hydras )

Hypothetically, say a bloke's mate was trying to set him up on a date the same night he was supposed to have a wild night of shagging with two extremely attractive and amazing witches... what should that bloke do?

[Warded to Sebastien]
scrawled in his journal just after the Hydras' match ends

You're coming over after this, yeah? Doesn't matter how late you finish there -- I'd like to see you.

Owl to Serena Capper

Hi Serena,

I've set up a dinner for you and Cormac McLaggen at Table Fifty-Two (52 Wellington Street, London) this Friday evening, February 7th at 7:00 pm. The attire is semi-formal, and your meal will be taken care of. The reservation is under Roger Davies.

Thanks,
Roger


Owl to Cormac McLaggen

Hi Cormac,

I've set up a dinner for you and Serena Capper at Table Fifty-Two (52 Wellington Street, London) this Friday evening, February 7th at 7:00 pm. The attire is semi-formal, and your meal will be taken care of. The reservation is under Roger Davies.

Thanks,
Roger

Who: Gwen, Tracey and Open (the more the merrier)
What: Tuesday evening Drinks
When: Tuesday evening
Where: Hogs Head
Rating: Low
Status: Ongoing

( It was weird living in a small village. )

Who: Fera and Open to all (It's time to celebrate folks!)
What: A round for everyone!
When: Tuesday Febuary 4th, 9:30ish pm?
Where: The Three Broomsticks
Rating: SFW... I'm assuming.
Status: Ongoing




The absolute exhilaration from winning a Quidditch match was something that Fera would never tire of. She was positively animalistic with the adrenaline pumping through her veins and there was no way she could go home just yet.

Her flying had been spot on, her well aimed bludgers had taken out two of the opposing Harpies and she wasn't entirely sure one of them would ever look quite the same. Not to mention the poor girl she had smashed into to create an opening for Ginny… that broomstick would never fly again.

So, trying to dispel some of her feral energy she had run a couple laps around the pitch before hitting the showers and making her way through Hogsmeade.

Small hands stuffed into her coat pockets, long hair loose and dancing in the wind, she darted into the pub and swore. “Bleeding bollocks but it’s cold out there…” If there was one thing she could be a slight pansy with, it was the cold.

She prowled up to the bar and lifted a brow as she leaned in. “Drinks are on me tonight… for everyone.” That said she dropped a rather large sack of galleons atop the varnished wood.

As she removed her jacket, revealing the rather stylish clothing beneath, she asked for several shots of firewhiskey for herself. Giving a satisfied little growl as the first one burned it's way down her throat.

( To Andrew Kirke )

( To Alicia Spinnet )

( To Emma Dobbs )