Aug. 8th, 2006

clumsy_auror: (pumpkin pickles [black])
They'd left on the morning train from London, slipping beneath the Channel and through the northern French countryside as the afternoon wore on. It's nearly suppertime when the train arrives at Saint Malo, and it takes another hour or so for them to settle into their rented townhouse.

Nymphadora's dressed for dinner, and wanders through the house, peering into the odd little cupboards and leaded glass dormer windows. Her heels clack softly on the worn hardwood floor, and the sound echoes throughout the airy rooms.

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clumsy_auror

October 2007

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