Fridges are cool!

Anna had lured Ward down to the mostly abandoned field with promises of finally starting a collection of tea cups to match not only her sweaters, but her dresses and skirts as well. She knew how important it was to him, and nodded seriously as he spoke to her about the importance of texture and colour co-ordination. She didn’t tell him that not many people wore plaster clothing, so his first point was moot. She needed an actual person for her latest idea, and he was perfect. Honestly, she might have resorted to begging. Maybe. But he didn’t last longer than five minutes before agreeing. She may have used some sort of puppy dog eyes. Maybe.

“Hold still!” Anna growled, pinning more of Ward’s hair back to his skull. “If you keep moving I’m going to have to start all over again, and you’ve already been here for three hours!” She stood back, admiring her work. He was stuck, though even she wasn’t sure which spell she cast to make it happen, to a tree a few hundred yards from Hagrid’s Hut, face painted brown to match the trunk. She paced around him, one hand stroking her chin, the other holding her wand frighteningly. Her eyes lit up suddenly, a brilliant idea surfacing at the look on his face. “Maybe I could- no, wait, here.”

"Sorry! Holding still! I'm holding still!" Did holding still mean not talking? He clamped his mouth shut, just in case, and his cheeks puffed out and for a moment, his face started to go red beneath the brown paint as he held his breath. When she stepped back, he exhaled in a  great whooosh of breath. He wriggled around, attempting to move but she lifted her wand and he would have been lying if he didn't go paler and swallow. Okay, so maybe William could sit with them at lunch. "What, what, I'm sorry!" She ran off, did she run off because he moved? Or because the black of his shoes didn't match the brown of his face? Looking down, he couldn't blame her. It looked horrendous together.

Whine, whine, whine.