08.29.23 | open | diagon alley
weaselsking:
Ron watched him count with a grin. “I sometimes get to work, only to find that your mum has put a quill in each of my jacket pockets. It’s handy, though–if anyone needs one in the office, somehow I’m the one to come to.” As slightly ridiculous as Hermione’s quill habit might be, it was useful. They weren’t spending their savings on something frivolous, at least. Ron raised an eyebrow at Hugo. “I’m well aware of that, Hugh. And it’s one of the many things I love about her. It’s just easier for everyone involved if, most of the time, we just kind of… benignly ignore it.”
"But don't they have enough quills there or are they skimping out on that?" It was one of the things that he was proud of when it came to his parents... and one of the many pressures he felt weigh on his shoulders: the fact that both his parents were successes in their chosen fields. Inspirational? Yes. Overwhelming? Even more so. "I guess it's useful to have a quill on you all the time... you know, if someone randomly asks you to sign something for them." he teased, suppressing a grin. He did, however, openly grimace at the mention of love. The two did have their own version of cheesy and like a typical son, the display of affection was... well, it was. something. "She gets mad if she thinks you're not listening though, so it's really hard. You should teach me your ways since you've been with her longer than I have. Should I talk about the elves more or less?"
















