"Toothpaste boogers!" Fauna let out a chuckle. "Me? That's... Dax. 'Cause it can't be me," she claimed innocence, crossing her arms.

He didn't have to apologize for his brother. She really didn't mind, especially when she could blame anything gross, rude, or icky on the more rowdy twin, and Dion would usually accept it at face value. Not that she did it often. But it was handy!

"He's not too bad," she reassured him, then smiled at the mention of Bernie.

When Dion vanished into the pantry, Fauna stared after him. Make a well. She couldn't just... not try it. He'd come back up and think she was hopeless.

So Fauna picked up the pitcher of ingredients that would go into the flour, and drew her wand, waving it in a slow circle. A little well formed at the bottom of the bowl, then grew larger. Fauna was about to pour the other ingredients in when suddenly, one of the portraits spoke.

"Are you sure that's correct-"

"Ah!" Fauna jumped, her hand jerked, and the flour mix splattered. Cursing, she set down the pitcher, and started wiping at the front of the apron, her face, and hair. At the sound of footsteps on the stairs, she shot Dion a guilty look.

"Sorry. I kinda made a... tidal wave instead."

Fauna turned her head and frowned at the portrait. This house! No privacy at all!

Dion took a half-step back at the state of the kitchen - Fauna covered in flour, the floor with flour all over it, flour on the table...and what sounded for all the world like a portrait that was snickering in amusement. Somewhere in his head a voice piped up: This was Fauna. Leaving her with something spill-able was asking for it!

Fauna's words were a boom in the silence and Dion stared at her silently, his face blank. Then, slowly, his mouth curled up and his eyes narrowed and...he lost it.

His laughter wasn't entirely what you'd expect - not too loud, but warm and rather joyous. He leaned against the doorjamb with his shoulders and stomach shaking, hand coming up to cover his mouth and then his forehead in a vain attempt to hide the fact he was laughing. His attempts to muffle his laughter just made him start snorting, which made it worse.

"What did you even-" He was trying to say something and failing, sliding down the door frame.

Fauna's face flushed. It was the way he laughed, too! She didn't think she'd ever heard him sound so amused. Opening her mouth, she put her hands on her hips-

And tried not to smile when he started to slide to the floor.

"Hey. Heeeeey," Fauna stood over him, flour drifting off of her whenever she moved.

"Dion," she knelt next to him.

"Stay still. You have..." Her eyebrows drew together in concern, and she tilted her head from one side to the other, as if trying to decide how best to remove the threat.

Slowly, she reached up with her hand, and tapped him on the nose, leaving a flour smudge.

"There! Not so funny now, is-"

The worn soles of her slippers made her feet slide out from under her and she landed, ever so predictably, on her bum. Having already been close to the ground, it was luckily a very short fall. Fauna blinked in surprise. Then she glanced at him and laughed.

Saturday morning.

Yes, this was the luxury. Waking up in one's own bed in one's shared home with other like minded individuals. Even looking back on the short span off time that Grace had been in this situation, it was hard to imagine that she may have considered her post Hogwarts days in any other fashion.

Grace had fallen into some sort of routine during her time at the Radford House and try as she might, some of it included traditions from her own home life. One thing she had missed while being at Hogwarts for many years was her mother's weekend breakfasts. It was something she tried to re-create, even if it was only for herself, on a regular basis.

At least that was the plan as long as someone -- or a few someones -- didn't beat her to it.

As soon as her eyes snapped open on this particular Saturday morning, Grace realized that others had beaten her to the kitchen. The sound of laughter and the smell of partially cooked food wafted to her nostrils and she became curious as to the status of breakfast.

Still groggy, she slipped a robe on over her flannel PJ set and headed downstairs.

She stepped just inside the kitchen door before she stopped dead in her tracks and stared at the mess. Her dark eyes flitted from housemate to housemate before she sputtered, "What are you guys doing to poor Madame Radford's kitchen?"

She ventured a little further into the room and peered into nearby bowl full of ingredients to try and discern what they were trying to make. "Don't you know that she gets upset when you don't use it properly?"

Even though Grace registered her own scolding tone in her head and how ridiculous it sounded, she couldn't stop herself from adding, "You're going to clean this all up, right?"

It wasn't exactly a dignified scene - Dion with a smear of flour on his nose, Fauna covered with flour and fallen on her bum, the both of them shaking with unsupressed giggles by the pantry door. The kitchen was a mess and the portrait was tut-tutting and being completely ignored. The sun was shining through the windows and starting to really light up the place, and Dion couldn't be enjoying himself more. It was good, sometimes, to just relax and let it all out.

"What are you guys doing to poor Madame Radford's kitchen?"

The change in Dion's demeanor was also audible; he snapped, and went from slouched against to the door to bolt upright in one smooth move. He forgot about the four on his nose in his haste to not look like a complete bell-end. Or like Dax - which was pretty much the same thing.

"Of course, Grace. We just had a slight mishap," he said in his usual cool, professional tone. He extended a hand to Fauna to help her up. They could clean up and still have breakfast properly prepared, of course.

Fauna was caught up in a fit of giggles, and took much more time to recover than Dion when Grace scolded them. The stern look on her friend's face made her stop laughing for a second. Then she started again. No wonder no one took Fauna seriously when she wandered around in PJ's and a bathrobe - when Grace Miss Former Prefect did it, it had no effect either!

"Sorry," she wheezed, taking Dion's hand to stand up. He had been giggling too, she could have sworn!

"The portrait kind of..." she gestured at Madam Radford's portrait. "Nevermind." Made her do it! That was what she'd been about to say.

"Do you want to help, Grace? Not clean up, but help cook?" Fauna ran a hand through her hair, which only made it look messier. She looked around the kitchen like it was some kind of strange crime scene they'd been instructed to inspect.

Grace saw the impact that her scolding had on her roommates and she flushed with slight embarrassment. Wasn't the point of living on their own was having no one to answer to? No rules? Freedom from all that seemed to bind them when they were at Hogwarts and back in their own homes? So why was she being such a stick in the mud now?

Seeing how repentant they were, she sighed and waved off their apologies or reassurances that they would clean things up. "It's okay. I'm sorry for being....." she let her voice trail off. At the offer to help and then seeing Fauna make more of a mess of herself with a floured hand through her dark hair, she grinned. "And I can help. Clean and cook if you need it."

Then she got a better look at the damage they had done and let out a slow whistle before she told them, "Or maybe just to be here to sooth Madame Radford and let her know that you're not going to burn the place down....or redecorate with eggshells....or something like that."