 *randomly tagged* | Norbert(a) | The Wandmaker (tm)
Had Adam a better grasp of English, he might have taken insult at the ‘wow neally” sounding shout before his lunch tray clattered to the ground, splashing his shoes with stew. His roll – well, it rolled off into the darkness. At least his unopened carton of milk was still intact…right?
But the warm stew soaking his leather monks and his limited grasp of English was the least of his problems. Because there was pudding dripping off the tip of his nose, staining his button down, and starting trickling down his pants. His mother seriously must have been cursed with something when pregnant. It was the only thing he could think of to explain his terrible luck.
A string of unsavory German sentences flew out of his mouth before he was able to sop himself and take a breath. All he had wanted to do was eat lunch – without any of his crazy department mate around. He stood there arms out, one holding his raspberry wood wand and other his white and red support cane as pudding dribbled down his face.
”Vhere…. exactly are zhey?” he asked trying very hard not to start firing jinxes off around the room. ”Und if vou could be as specific as pozible?” Pause. ”Vith your vords. Bitte.”
He really should have just gone out to the park, he told himself as he took a deep breath and muttered the cleaning charm and pointing his wand at the places he could feel pudding and stew.
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