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Jul. 1st, 2006 09:41 amPeck, peck, peck.
That's funny, thinks Nymphadora's subconscious. I wasn't dreaming about chickens a moment ago, was I? And yet there they are, pecking their way across her parents' library, right across the game of Exploding Snap she and Dad are playing. Stupid chickens.
Peck, peck, peck.
Her father doesn't seem put out by the presence of the chickens. Doesn't seem to notice them at all, really. Hunh. That's odd, surely.
Then one pecks her on the hand. "Ow!" she cries, irritated, and suddenly she jerks herself awake.
Peck, peck, peck. Peckpeckpeckpeckpeck.
Nymphadora blinks, confused, and rubbing at the spot where, judging from the sulky look on his face, Hiss just nipped her hand. He doesn't seem to like the pecking, either. But where--
PECKPECKPECKPECK.
Ah. Front door.
She slips out of bed quickly, padding down the hall, almost jogging by the time she reaches the door. It's not even dawn, yet.
When 'Dora sees Dumbledore's owl, the bottom drops out of her stomach.
The contents of the note aren't exactly surprising.
Tonight, then.
Grimly, Nymphadora walks back down the hall, and for a moment she just stands and looks at the collective assembled in her bed.
Bernard is snoring gently, one arm curled around Sunny, who is currently half-talking in her sleep, very quietly, as she sometimes does when she dreams. Hiss has hopped onto 'Dora's pillow, looking to make himself comfy for the long haul, she suspects. Ellie is spawled out on the foot of the bed, having evidently decided to join the party at some point.
Well. First things first.
Very carefully, she moves Bernard's arm, and picks Sunny up.
Sunny doesn't need to hear what she's about to tell her husband.
The witch moves toward the door.
That's funny, thinks Nymphadora's subconscious. I wasn't dreaming about chickens a moment ago, was I? And yet there they are, pecking their way across her parents' library, right across the game of Exploding Snap she and Dad are playing. Stupid chickens.
Peck, peck, peck.
Her father doesn't seem put out by the presence of the chickens. Doesn't seem to notice them at all, really. Hunh. That's odd, surely.
Then one pecks her on the hand. "Ow!" she cries, irritated, and suddenly she jerks herself awake.
Peck, peck, peck. Peckpeckpeckpeckpeck.
Nymphadora blinks, confused, and rubbing at the spot where, judging from the sulky look on his face, Hiss just nipped her hand. He doesn't seem to like the pecking, either. But where--
PECKPECKPECKPECK.
Ah. Front door.
She slips out of bed quickly, padding down the hall, almost jogging by the time she reaches the door. It's not even dawn, yet.
When 'Dora sees Dumbledore's owl, the bottom drops out of her stomach.
The contents of the note aren't exactly surprising.
Tonight, then.
Grimly, Nymphadora walks back down the hall, and for a moment she just stands and looks at the collective assembled in her bed.
Bernard is snoring gently, one arm curled around Sunny, who is currently half-talking in her sleep, very quietly, as she sometimes does when she dreams. Hiss has hopped onto 'Dora's pillow, looking to make himself comfy for the long haul, she suspects. Ellie is spawled out on the foot of the bed, having evidently decided to join the party at some point.
Well. First things first.
Very carefully, she moves Bernard's arm, and picks Sunny up.
Sunny doesn't need to hear what she's about to tell her husband.
The witch moves toward the door.
