clumsy_auror | (no subject)

(no subject)

Distractions are a positive thing.

Books are somewhat helpful, but her attention keeps wandering; the television or music are even less effective. Doing something with her hands is a definite improvement, so Nymphadora's sitting on the couch with a scrap of fabric, a spool of thread, a needle, and her wand in her hand. She's practicing the sewing spells Molly taught her.

As a concession to Bernard's nerves, there's a blanket tucked around her legs, and a cup of tea on the table in front of her.

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'Dora reaches for her tea, and nearly knocks poor Beatrice to the floor. "Oh! Beatric! I didn't see you there, love, sorry about that. How've you been?"

With the appropriate amount of care, Nymphadora sets the doll beside her on the couch, tucking the blanket around her wee legs.

Beatrice informs Sunny's Mummy that she's been very good, but could use a new jacket. A sparkly one.

Everyone could use a sparkly jacket.

"Where's Sunny?" queries Nymphadora, turning to the doll, her tone entirely conversational. "I haven't seen her in a little while."

Well, duh, Dora.

*SHIFTY EYES* goes Beatrice.

Possibly, Dora is informed, Sunny ran away to Tijuana.

Hopefully she will not return with a tattoo like Bernard's!

"Hmm, 's too bad." She sighs, somewhat dramatically. "Was hoping she'd tell me a story. I'm feeling a bit under the weather, you see, and Sunny's stories always make me feel better."

Hmmm.

What sort of a story, Beatrice would like to know?

A sad shrug. "Ah well, I guess there's nothing for it, since she's not around. Alas."

Well.

If Dora really wanted, Beatrice could help her find Sunny, maybe.

It might take some effort, but, you know. It could be Worth It.

Something like this seems to dawn on Nymphadora.

"Beatrice, you haven't seen her lately, have you?"

*SHIFTY EYES* goes Beatrice.

Maaaaaybe.

She can't remember.

Cookies might remind her.

Cookies are often good for that.

Nymphadora happens to be munching on one right now, and holding a plate of them in her hand, as she gazes solemnly down at Beatrice.

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