Who: The Browns + Smiths + friends!
What: Harper and Lavender come home, time for steaks! Annnnnnnd some other stuff.
Where: Brown's house!
When: Monday afternoon/evening.

Harper loved being home. He loved his wife and especially his daughter. It was kind of sad she slept so much, but Psyke and Harper had hardly set her down since they'd been home. Harper was kind of tired and napping with the baby on his chest when he heard people rustling about and hushed talking. Opening an eye he inspected the people coming in and gave a quirk of a smile as Lavender started squirming a little.

He sat up and held her carefully, getting out of the recliner gingerly. Grinning broadly he passed her over to Malcolm and clapped him on the shoulder with a wink to Psyke. "Fairy godfather, eh? You should change her princess diapers good sir. Wash your hands first and after, Imma go cook me some steak."

Malcolm hated being sick. He really hated it, but he tried to get through it without whinging too much. But there was always a point where Malcolm felt like melting into his bed and turning into a puddle of primordial ooze, composed mostly of germs and snot. He'd reached that point last night, had pulled himself into bed and curled up there, waiting for it to be over, except for getting up for the loo and sending an owl about a half hour ago to Jamie, begging for intervention in the form of entertainment and orange juice. He wasn't sure if he could drink orange juice, but it never failed to make him feel better after a bit, so he hoped that Jamie brought a lot.

He hated looking sick, so he managed to haul himself into the shower before Jamie showed up. He was just coming out of the bathroom in his underwear, drying his hair with a towel when Jamie arrived. Malcolm gave Jamie a pitiful look, but smiled. "You came!" he said with his hoarse voice, and ended up having a slight coughing fit. "I hope you brought a germ suit," he said before slouching back to his bedroom and crawling back under the covers, leaving his wet towel at the end of the bed. "I feel like shite. Better, clean shite, but still shite nonetheless."

Her nose pressed up against the window as she watched her parents make their way down the pavement. Miranda jumped off the window seat and attempted to silently make it around the room, slipping her feet into slippers, slinging her dress robes over her shoulders, and tying her hair up so that it wasn't the bird's nest mess it had been in for the last two weeks. One thing her mother had forgotten to tend to, but Miranda could definitely forgive her for that.

She opened the door to her room and looked up and down the hall before quickly stepping out and shutting it quietly behind her. Miranda had been banished to her room, with a little bell to ring and everything for someone to come and help, but she was definitely going out of her mind (and hadn't rung the bell once, her father had checked her temperature at least a dozen times, thinking it was an indicator she was sick again). Now, though, she'd heard voices, and she knew that all of her brothers were over---the hospital wasn't the same, she hadn't been with the three of them together since...well, okay, since Easter, but that was still a long time, for Miranda.

Hurrying down the hall on her tiptoes, Miranda turned the knob to Jamie's room and poked her head in, smiling lightly at the sight of her three brothers, the older two hovering over Murrie--Jamie (she really didn't know what to call him, these days) who looked--ugh, sick.

"Hiiii," she let out softly, entering. Ugh, her voice was such crap, sore and scratchy from not talking for...wow. A really long time. One positive thing for people?

Characters: Malcolm Brown and Jamie Dodderidge
Setting: The Leaky Cauldron, Sunday afternoon.
Summary: They're spies.
Rating/Status: PG / Finished log.
( he'd much rather speculate that maybe he was just an oddball who liked eating by himself )

Characters: Malcolm Brown and Jamie Dodderidge
Setting: The Leaky Cauldron, Saturday afternoon.
Summary: Malcolm’s a bit hungry for some Jamie :X
Rating/Status: PG / Finished log.
(  And while he doubted he'd get fired for taking a break to have a chat, he really couldn't take a break just then )