(no subject)

[clumsy_auror]

A fire crackles merrily in the hearth, sending the smell of fall and warmth and home throughout the cozy study.

Bernard sits at his desk, his long fingers fluidly sketching a new design, and Nymphadora is stretched out on the sofa, her nose in a book.

Comments

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

His hair's sticking up in every direction, and his voice is more than a little distracted when he pauses to ask the occasional question.

"...So, is there any way to defuse the bombarda spell after it's been cast?"

[clumsy_auror]

"Sure," she replies, without looking up from her book. "But the charm is specific to the person who cast it -- there's a sort of a keyword that's used in the spell, too, to protect it. So you have to know the keyword to defuse."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"Shit," he mutters, scratching out a notation, then full-on erasing a section and starting over.

[clumsy_auror]

"Sorry." Glancing over at him, Nymphadora bites her thumbnail reflectively. "Could always try a different spell. Reducto's pretty explosive."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"No," he answers. "Not the problem." More scribbling. "Was thinking to defuse the other side before they hit, mix the charm with the hexes and jinxes. Hurt 'em and disarm 'em at once."

[clumsy_auror]

"Ah."

Nymphadora rests her book facing down and open on her belly.

Looks kinda like a tent pitched on a hill, really.

"Well. If you used a shielding charm, it would make a sort of a wall to at least slow down the effect of Bombarda. I reckon you could mix that with some offensive spells. Build a moat and pour hot oil over the battlements all at once, so to speak."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

He scratches his head, thinking and staring at the design.

It matters where in the structure of the bomb the spells are placed. They've come a long way from eleven months ago. When these blow, they are highly specific.

"Should really talk to Allbright about using some of these, you know."

[clumsy_auror]

"Already have."

She picks up her book again.

"He's working on some notes for me to bring home to you."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"Groovy," he breathes, starting to draw again.

[clumsy_auror]

Smiling, she begins reading again, her leg lolling a little off the sofa, toes brushing the carpet.

After a little while, "D'you wanna try and do a big family thing on Christmas? Or just we three? Or somewhere in-between?"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Distractedly, "Does it fall on a weekend?"

[clumsy_auror]

A thoughtful frown. "I think 's a Sunday, yeah."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"Then we should at least invite the angel and Crowley, yeah?"

[clumsy_auror]

"Yeah." She smiles softly. "I never know if they'd rather have those sorts of days for themselves. But I want them to know they're welcome."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"Okay." He glances up. "Did you want to ask your parents, or...?"

[clumsy_auror]

"Well, that's what I was wondering. I mean, I'd like to have something with everyone, the angel and Crowley and your parents and mine and we three, but I also want some time for just the three of us, too. Since it's our first holiday together."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

He finally looks up, and puts his pencil down.

"Um."

He rubs an eye, then sighs. He had pencil on his hand. Now it's on his eye. He pulls out his handkerchief and rubs at his eye.

"I guess they'd just take rooms in the bar?"

[clumsy_auror]

"Well, I mean." Her brow furrows slightly. He seems so frustrated. "They could do that, sure, though I was maybe thinking more along the lines of a just-us thing Christmas Eve, and everyone on Christmas Day, or vice-versa... are you okay?"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"Huh?" He blinks. The pencil's not all gone.

"Yeah, I just got pencil on my eyelid and now I look like I got into a scuffle with some ruffians."

[clumsy_auror]

She snickers.

"C'mere. I'll get it off."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

He stands and walks around the desk, kneeling next to her and handing her his handkerchief.

[clumsy_auror]

Nymphadora does the unthinkable.

She licks the handkerchief.

And then very carefully wipes the pencil smudge off.

"There we are, then."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard's had her saliva on pretty much every inch of him, so it's not like he minds.

Still, he snickers.

"Oh, so you're gonna be one of those moms."

[clumsy_auror]

Her nose lifts into the air.

"Is there any other kind?"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"Just as long as you don't do that to them in public, you'll be scot free." He's trying not to laugh too hard at her.

"I can see it now. 'Now, Anthony, darling, hold still, you have a bit of trifle on your chin!'"

As always, his English accent is frighteningly good. Comes of hearing one day in, day out.