little bird

[caoimhemoran]

it’s my party

Someone needed to explain to Caoimhe the logic of buying someone else gifts so near her own birthday. It didn’t make sense when this month, if we were being frank, was really supposed to be all about her. None of this buying things for other people nonsense! If she was being generous, the girl would allow for the Christmas trees to still be around. They smelled nice and looked very pretty when done up and decorated with baubles and tinsel and… green eyes finally tore themselves away from the tree in the middle of the Hogsmeade square. Bollocks and there she was being sucked back into the Christmas spirit by that damned tree. With a shake of her increasingly snowy head and a scowl at the comfortable smell of pine in the crisp air, she moved on across the salt strewn, slushy streets.

Okay, gifts, gifts… She stuck her gloved fingers into her softly lined pockets of her peacoat, going over her mental list. Half of her family was already taken care of, Aiden had his gift ordered and already packaged in her room, but there still were a few people she was woefully confused on what to get them. Kate was one of them (but then her anal sister was absolutely the hardest person to buy for and then promptly hated anything she didn’t deem high class enough for her refined, posh tastes), her mother was another, then there were people here at Hogwarts. Caoimhe stopped and stared at the welcoming window display at one of the shops, light spilling over her red-cheeked face as she watched at the little baubles zooming about inside the glass. The door to the shop opened with a tinkling bell and that change in light caused the reflection of someone passing behind her to momentarily be obvious on the glass. A grin formed.

Caoimhe turned, lips curled crookedly in amusement as she saw her friend (if the term friend could even be used with another girl… granted, Lucy was about as much of a girl as Caoimhe was) making her way in the smallish sort of crowd. “You know,”

[/color] She said loudly, falling in stride next to the much shorter girl, though far enough away that she couldn’t get attacked a hug without bracing herself first, “If you’ve waited this damned long to get me a gift, I’m not accepting it.”[/color]

tag: Miss Lucy Murphy

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[Lucy Murphy]

over and over again
i've been called
a walking oxymoron

This was her very last Christmas at Hogwarts. Odd. Lucy tightened her grip around her shopping bags and continued down slushy High Street. The holidays were fast approaching and the store-keepers of Hogsmeade made sure to make that obvious, with their ridiculous advertisements and enticing seasonal sales. Lucy appreciated Hogsmeade, and could remember her excitement about it as an eleven year old searching for the perfect present for all of her family and friends... but now that she was older, she had gotten used to essentially everything it had to offer. Being creative had become some sort of burden, but it was necessary, she reminded herself constantly. After perusing multiple catalogs she'd actually found a lot of presents for other people and ordered them, but now she just had a few loose ends to tie up.

She was going to go to Zonko's to get a little random something for Sirius, obviously; he was in need of some cheering up, and Zonko's regularly put new tricks and gags out, so she was sure she could find something adequate. She missed his smile. His other present was safe in her dorm, wrapped, with all the others. Going down her mental checklist, she remembered it was necessary for her to stop at Honeydukes. Necessary. For the last however many years, she and Olivia and May and Alice invested far too much money in buying one another candy for Christmas. This year would be no exception. She looked up as she passed Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, recalled Will had mentioned something about needing some new quills... she tilted her head back and forth, wondering if buying him yet another present would be overkill. Not that it mattered, though, because right then a gust of wind swept through Hogsmeade, and Lucy was very suddenly reminded of just how cold she was. Tightening her scarf around her neck, she pushed forward through the wind, making her way toward Madame Puddifoot's for a cup of tea. That sounded pleasant. A cup of tea. She only prayed she'd be able to tolerate the smell in that place... or, you know, the couples who chose to inhabit it with their goddamn public displays of affection. Gag.

Suddenly there was another body next to her speaking rather loudly, and Lucy nearly jumped a mile. "Merlin's saggy balls!" she exclaimed to herself before shooting Caoimhe a look. "I already have your gift," she said, smirking. It was a massive book covering the history of the Irish National Quidditch team. It probably weighed more than Caoimhe herself. And, you know, Lucy knew the chances of Caoimhe reading the whole thing cover-to-cover were slim to none - but it was the thought that counted, right?! Har, har, har. It would be good, though, if she ever needed to know random facts about the team, as there was a section, entitled Random Facts, that was 300 pages thick. Yes, Lucy smirked to herself, Caoimhe would love that. Hahaha. Hah. She nearly bought a much smaller, abridged version of the same name, but decided against it. The thought of presenting Caoimhe with a five-inch thick book and seeing her reaction to it would make Lucy's life, she knew it. She had also picked up a more practical gift as well - a peaches and cream scented candle. (Although Caoimhe had never directly informed Lucy she liked peaches, Lucy had seen her eat peaches rather often in the Great Hall. ...So. You know. That was some good detective work on her part. ...She could only pray that Caoimhe appreciated scented candles.) "And whether or not it is presently in these shopping bags, or on my list of things to get, or under my bed hardly matters, missy," she smirked before wrapping her arms around Caoimhe. Lucy knew Caoimhe didn't really like hugs. She gave her hugs anyway. Their friendship sort of befuddled Lucy, really; the first few times they interacted, Lucy had been expecting Caoimhe to snap at her, or avoid her, but she hadn't. She thought Caoimhe was interesting though... and it was no secret that Lucy sort of naturally gravitated towards redheads. Wendy. Lily. Felix. Caoimhe. It just sort of happened. Lucy still found herself a little anxious around her, just because they were quite different - although, on many levels, extremely similar - but somehow they got along pretty well. So well, in fact, she... she had actually been thinking about making Caoimhe a bridesmaid. It was just a matter of... you know. Telling her the important things that had happened in her life lately.

...Which was going to be fun because Caoimhe, surely, would be horrified.

...Whatever.

"Hey, so, um, I have... ...Caoimhe? I have something I need to tell you..."

[caoimhemoran]

it's my party

A loud snort promptly escaped the Irish girl (in a completely and utterly lady like manner, of course) in response to Lucy’s choice swear. “You know…”

[/color] Caoimhe crooned sweetly, always a bad sign, as she tilted her head down towards her much shorter friend, “If you really think about that classic, often used by drunk uncles at shitty parties, phrase, it’s actually quite fucking disgusting.”[/color] And this was why Lucy and Caoimhe got on as well as they did: the almost absolute lack of feminine delicacy in their daily habits. But the faux simper changed as soon as the Gryffindor girl mentioned a gift. “Do you, now?”[/color] Pale eyes flicked down to Lucy’s bags, eyebrow raised slightly as she attempted to spy any potential gift. But her friend knew her too well to let her get away with that. And what was the one way to get Caoimhe to stop nosing? Invading her personal space. Of course, she was the one who typically ignored all nods to socially accepted yet unspoken personal spacing laws, but with her target of the day… as in with men and men alone. But with women? With other girls? If she was elbowing their face to get the quaffle away, sure, consider her space invaded, but hugs? And teeheeing… fawning? Sweet Merlin no.

“Well if it’s near your bed, Gryffindor germs be damned, that’s another excuse for me to show up in your… undoubtedly charming common room.”[/color] Caoimhe said through a determinedly casual sneer (damned hugs). “Whispering sweet nothings in your ear while you sleep… trying to convince you to strip, or at least wear something a bit more tight fitting, damn you girl and your baggy clothes, and then after you’ve done that, show me where the gift is. I like this plan of mine!”[/color] The pair started had just started walking again (well, Lucy started moving slowly and Caoimhe waited a few seconds so she could take one stride to Lucy’s two) when Lucy, usually not hesitant in the slightest, spoke in a way that had the Slytherin girl raising an eyebrow in suspicion. “Hey, um, so… Luce?”[/color] Caoimhe mimicked in a bad imitation of Lucy’s voice, glancing at her friend amusedly but still in curiosity. “Let me guess… you’ve seen the error of your ways and are gonna start playing quidditch again instead of prancing around on the pitch like the adorable lunatic that you are? I still don't get why the hell you just up and quit... not that I'm complaining, your replacement is terrible.” She didn't say that with too much relish...

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