(no subject)

[snitchnicker.livejournal.com]

James and Sirius, for today an accountant and a dentist, respectively, put the finishing touches on the Haunted Mansion (they had started the night before, and upon finding that in the morning their changes were still there, they had been quite pleased and finished up). Now that the room where the ceiling rose was magicked so that everyone would fit in it and still have plenty of space to move. On top of that, they had magically rewired the loudspeakers to the room, put up some spooky decorations, and even completed it with fake, scary looking ghosts (they had both been quite disappointed in the morning to discover that some of their ruder decorations, including hot, naked ghosts, were removed).

Then, James began to write the letters, and started some music.



Crowley,

We're throwing a party at the Haunted Mansion. Do you think you could provide refreshments? Feel free to come as well.

- James Potter and Sirius Black

Then, identical letters were sent out to everyone in the park.

Hey,

There will be a Halloween party at the Haunted Mansion in New Orlean's Square. Come around and have a great time. Also, if you have drinks or food that you want to bring to share, feel free.

- James Potter and Sirius Black

On the bottom of the paper, there's a witch flying on a broom, actually moving around on the paper.

Comments

[a-lonely-god.livejournal.com]

“Something like, yeah,” the Doctor answered. –in a tone of voice that said ‘no not at all, but that’s alright– He handed the gin and jrezi fruit juice to Sirius, and dug back into his pockets again. “Hang on… ha!’ He pulled out a six pack of Dark Island, a jug of strawberry banana juice, and the rosé, and it was now acutely obvious that all those things shouldn’t have fit into normal pockets.

“Oh, you know, here and there,” he said dismissively, trying to lean forward and get a better look at the wand while making it look like he wasn’t. The Master, meanwhile, had gone back to the scotch as soon as Sirius had mentioned Star Wars. The Doctor still couldn’t blame him –what did it mean, it was impossible, but Mickey was here and the Cheshire Cat and…– “Can’t hang around Earth for too long without picking these things up; you two are relatively famous, you know.”

[grimsirius.livejournal.com]

Sirius began tapping his wand against the bottles as the Doctor spoke, muttering incantations under his breath to ensure that the alcohol wouldn't run out.

"Famous among wizards," he said. "I didn't know anyone else had heard of us. And my reputation isn't so great." He smiled. "Unless you're from the future, I suppose? Maybe you've heard about my godson?"

[hear-the-drums.livejournal.com]

The Master promptly inhaled some of his scotch. He began coughing.

He muttered something between hacks that sounded suspiciously like, "The Boy Who Lived To Defeat Evil By Virtue Of His Strong Martyr Complex And His Need To Be Validated By Useless Dead People?" Only half of the words were likely discernible at all. He couldn't help it. Ridiculous, soppy ending - he'd burned the bloody thing. He would have had JKR publicly executed if she hadn't died in the first wave of population thinning.

[a-lonely-god.livejournal.com]

If the Doctor thumped the Master rather overly hard on the back, well, he was just trying to help. Really.

“Don’t listen to him,” he told Sirius, well, seriously. “Yes, we have heard of Harry, and he sounds like a truly remarkable boy.”

[grimsirius.livejournal.com]

Sirius wasn't sure exactly what part of what the Master had been saying he ought to be angry about, but he fixed him with an intense glare. However, the Doctor speaking pacified him somewhat; there was something about him that Sirius couldn't help liking.

"Damn right he is," he said. "I suppose I should be glad you've heard of him. I've been told he gets through everything all right, but it's always good to have it confirmed."

[a-lonely-god.livejournal.com]

“Oh yeah, better than all right. Boy was brilliant,” the Doctor couldn’t help himself from saying. Well, it wasn’t like Sirius was going to be around to influence the outcome anyway, and –listen to him, thinking about causality and paradoxes for fictional characters– without looking away from Sirius or losing his enthusiastic smile, he reached over and took the scotch back from the still sputtering Master.

[hear-the-drums.livejournal.com]

–you bloody sap, Shut Up, there's nothing brilliant about being selfless, people do it so they can avoid guilt, what's so amazing or honourable about that–

The scotch was gone. By the time the Master had realized it and managed to wrench it back from the other Time Lord, there was only a swig left. He cocked his head at –Rassilon's left eye, another bleeding dead person, or at least he could be (but he's not real), not going to ask– Sirius and held up the bottle. "You said something about a replenishing charm?"

It was remarkably polite of him, not adding anything else to that statement about heroes and mythology and predictability. Nevermind the fact that he and Doctor had finished a bottle of scotch in about five minutes and did not appear to be intoxicated.

[grimsirius.livejournal.com]

"Allow me," Sirius said, tapping the bottle with his wand and repeating the incantation from a few minutes ago. The bottle refilled itself.

Sirius had already been spoilered for quite a bit of his own life, or perhaps afterlife, so the Doctor probably couldn't do much harm at any rate.

"So how far in his future do you come from? Do you know anything else, how he's getting on?" He had to admit, he was curious. George had only been able to give him hazy details of the year following Voldemort's defeat.

((Haha, I so don't remember if the spell for that is ever given))

[a-lonely-god.livejournal.com]

“Oh, brilliantly, as far as I know,” the Doctor babbled. “Married, kids, you know. Brilliant…” he floundered.

[grimsirius.livejournal.com]

Sirius couldn't help but smile at that, even if his smile was a little bit sad. "I'm so glad. He deserves it."

[hear-the-drums.livejournal.com]

He still wasn't feeling the alcohol yet. –Damn Time Lord metabolism, weak alcohol from underdeveloped planets– But then the Doctor keeps going on, on about kids and marriage –like good old Harry was a friend of the family he used to visit with every so often– and Sirius is so genuinely happy and that's just enough -

"Oh, kindly shut up!" he snapped at the other Time Lord, waving the bottle at him irately. He turned to Sirius. "I'm sorry, he's trying ever so hard to be polite about it, but the bottom line is you're not a real person. You're as thin and lifeless as the paper your sad existence was written on, and I could care less about what happened to your hypothetical godson, since it was obvious how the whole thing was going to end from the beginning, what with him being Jesus, King Arthur, Frodo Baggins, Herakles and Mother Fucking Teresa combined!"

He turned frantically to the Doctor. "Tell me, do you think if I took his little wooden stick from him and shouted Avada Kedavra at the top of my lungs, everyone in here would perish in a flash of green light because I'm positively aching to try."

Back to Sirius. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going over to a dark corner to finish as many bottles of this as I can. I would prefer not to be disturbed." He walked (in a fairly straight line) over to such a corner, clutching the glass bottle like a safety blanket.

Slightly more drunk than he had estimated, then.

[a-lonely-god.livejournal.com]

The Doctor gaped at the Master’s retreating back. Then he turned to Sirius.

“I…” he started. “That is. Um. I’d… better go look after him.”

He followed the Master, swiping a large glass –probably intended for soft drinks, but suited to his intentions– from the table as he went. He was going to need it.

[grimsirius.livejournal.com]

Sirius was entirely unsure how to respond to being called not a real person, or even to Harry being referred to as 'Jesus, King Arthur, Frodo Baggins, Herakles and Mother Fucking Teresa combined' seeing as it was obviously intended as an insult, yet there was really no way to protest it. But he'd had a little too much alcohol to form a proper retort, and not enough to think 'no, you're thin and lifeless' was at all a good option. Before he'd come up with anything better, the Master had walked off and the Doctor after him.

"Er, maybe he's had enough," Sirius called after the Doctor, but wasn't particularly interested in monitoring the situation any further than that. He set out the bottles the Doctor had given him on the table, and then walked off to greet some more guests.