(no subject)

[leplusbeau]

Somewhere in London, there is a doorknob jiggling.

From inside the empty flat, two voices can be heard outside the door. 'Shouldn't we wait--'...'Why?'

Fleur throws the door open. "Really. If agentz are going to show a flat, they should be on time. You british can be very silly sometimez. In Paris, the landlady givez you a key and popz in every two mintuez saying 'you move in next week, yes?' Very simple system."

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[thecoolone]

He gives it the once-over: they're on the top storey; the entry hall has a skylight in its domed ceiling which is so very lovely. It leads into a sitting room or parlour or living area, whatever one wants to call it, in a cream colour; the sunlight streams in. A good-sized balcony sits off the room and it's large and it wraps round to another room: the bedroom at the end of the hall. Again, it's light and bright, a combination of whites and creams. The old windows are very tall; a french door leads out to the balcony overlooking a courtyard.

There is room for flower boxes.

The second bedroom is smaller but no less full of light and there's only one bath but it's large enough for a full tub and shower and double sink, which should do very nicely. In fact, the bedrooms are separated by that bath, which seems sensible enough.

Back down the hall into the kitchen and dining area and those, too, are spacious and airy and bright. The appliances are old enough to be charming but not to be falling apart and really, all the place needs is furnishings and a small touch of magic on a few repair spots.

The housing agent is significantly silent but Bill knows she's watching them, hawklike, for any reaction.

The smell of fresh-baked bread wafts up into the open windows. Bill glances at the agent, then moves off to a corner affording a small bit of privacy with Fleur.

"I like this place. What do you think?"

[leplusbeau]

Dreamy, "Can we buy the building?"

She latches onto Bill. "If you do not put a large amount of gold in that woman'z hand right now, I will be forced to divorce you and have a very wicked affair with you for the rest of our livez. Doitdoitdoitdoit!"

[thecoolone]

"No, we can't buy the building... but we don't need it."

His voice lowers. "We can have our very wicked affair without a divorce, my very beautiful wife."

He turns to the agent. "All right. We'll take it. Call in and reserve it for us. You'll want how many months' rent for deposit?"

I love Gringott's; they've got a grand exchange rate from gold to pound sterling. He looks round the living room area again, grateful for every curse-breaking job he's had, every residual Galleon he's earned. "Back to your office, then, to sign papers?"

He hopes he's sounding knowledgeable enough. He's never done this before. But he turns to Fleur, casual in the entirety. "Oh, love: you can pick the sofa."

The agent looks thrilled. "Yes, back to the office; I'll drive unless you want to take your car and meet me there... no? My car, then. The owner will be thrilled. I knew we were holding onto this place for just the right couple; it suits you so well."

Blah, blah, blah. Before they leave, Bill casts a surreptitious little spell: one of protection, one of safekeeping, one delineating personal space. Now, should anyone else try to show the flat, they'll mysteriously be unable to do so. They'll forget what they intended to do, or remember another appointment, or...

And it will also protect the flat from vandalism.

It's theirs.