*closed to: @unapologeticallydean *setting: weasley wizarding wheezes, diagon alley
“Been a minute since Diagon Alley’s seen your pretty face, eh, Deaners?” It’s a standard greeting delivered in a less-than-standard way, with the speaker in question hollering to the visitor below from a place high above nearly everything else in the store as he balances precariously on the top rung of a narrow, wooden ladder. In the closing hour of the shop — famously, the most agonizingly sluggish part of his working day — George had taken to restocking the tallest shelves in the Muggle way, if only for the fact that doing so was as good a method as any other ( if not better, and likely less self-destructive ) to combat the creeping boredom he felt while waiting for someone, anyone, to come peeking in and once again fill the shop with the sound of laughter.
All too eager for company, he peers down at his childhood friend, body leaned back at a considerably dangerous angle in feckless display of a scene practically ripped from their youth. “Actually, you’re way better looking from this high up!” George jests, obviously squinting to get a good look at the other before he gives up altogether and resorts to the inevitable: a quick slide down the side of the ladder and a surprisingly sturdy landing. His face scrunches up in comically over-drawn study of Dean’s face ( though a part of him secretly searches for anything new of note — scar or hickey or otherwise ) before relaxing into a grin as he acquiesces, “Nope, I just got to feel like the tall one, for once.” A thick hand comes to clap his friend’s shoulder, and he asks, the promise of mischief not far off the horizon now, “Did you drop by to try something new?”