In_memoriam: House Elves
Title: Tequila
Fandom: Harry Potter
Prompt: Beings - house elves
Characters: Charity Burbage, Poppy Pomfrey
Rating: PG
Word Count: 370
Summary: Charity can't stand the way house elves talk. Deathly Hallows SPOILERS. For
in_memoriam_7
“What’s made you so upset?” Poppy asked, her eyebrows raised to the sky. She’d known Charity since they sat together on the Hogwarts Express on the 1st September in their first year, and throughout fifteen years of solid friendship Charity had been angry twice. This made it three times.
“House elves,” Charity said.
“What did they do?” Poppy asked sympathetically. It annoyed her no end when the diminutive creatures did something silly like replace all the Skele-gro with blood potions for dehydrated vampires. House-elves didn’t make mistakes on purpose, but that didn’t make it any less annoying when they did.
“I’ve been trying to teach Eggy how to speak properly,” Charity grumbled. “It drives me insane hearing ‘yes Professor Miss, Eggi will make it right away’ or ‘Eggy is so sorry Professor Miss but the headmaster said us house-elves isn’t to serve haggis at breakfast -“
“Haggis?” Poppy had to ask. Charity threw her hands up in the air in exasperation.
“It was just an example!” she yelled frustratedly. “I wouldn’t eat that if the world needed to me to do it in order to survive! It’s disgusting!”
“Don’t let Minerva hear you say that,” Poppy said dryly. Charity laughed at the mental image of the Scottish witch’s face, but quickly returned to her rant.
“I’m just so sick of being called ‘Professor miss’ and the way they insist on speaking! I’m not a grammar nazi, but their speech is so bad it should be a crime!” Charity said crossly. “It should be known as treason against the English language and given a death penalty because then I’d be allowed to follow through on the murderous urges I get!”
Poppy extracted a small bottle from her voluminous mediwitch robe and pushed it into Charity’s hand.
“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t drink potions? If I remember correctly, Calming Potions contain bat wings and lacewing heads among many other delightful things,” Charity said sarcastically.
“It’s not a potion, it’s tequila. You obviously need a drink,” Poppy said. Charity looked at the bottle much more enthusiastically; Poppy produced another one from her pocket.
“One tequila… two tequilas… three tequilas…” they recited. Charity passed out.
“Floor,” Poppy finished.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Prompt: Beings - house elves
Characters: Charity Burbage, Poppy Pomfrey
Rating: PG
Word Count: 370
Summary: Charity can't stand the way house elves talk. Deathly Hallows SPOILERS. For
in_memoriam_7
“What’s made you so upset?” Poppy asked, her eyebrows raised to the sky. She’d known Charity since they sat together on the Hogwarts Express on the 1st September in their first year, and throughout fifteen years of solid friendship Charity had been angry twice. This made it three times.
“House elves,” Charity said.
“What did they do?” Poppy asked sympathetically. It annoyed her no end when the diminutive creatures did something silly like replace all the Skele-gro with blood potions for dehydrated vampires. House-elves didn’t make mistakes on purpose, but that didn’t make it any less annoying when they did.
“I’ve been trying to teach Eggy how to speak properly,” Charity grumbled. “It drives me insane hearing ‘yes Professor Miss, Eggi will make it right away’ or ‘Eggy is so sorry Professor Miss but the headmaster said us house-elves isn’t to serve haggis at breakfast -“
“Haggis?” Poppy had to ask. Charity threw her hands up in the air in exasperation.
“It was just an example!” she yelled frustratedly. “I wouldn’t eat that if the world needed to me to do it in order to survive! It’s disgusting!”
“Don’t let Minerva hear you say that,” Poppy said dryly. Charity laughed at the mental image of the Scottish witch’s face, but quickly returned to her rant.
“I’m just so sick of being called ‘Professor miss’ and the way they insist on speaking! I’m not a grammar nazi, but their speech is so bad it should be a crime!” Charity said crossly. “It should be known as treason against the English language and given a death penalty because then I’d be allowed to follow through on the murderous urges I get!”
Poppy extracted a small bottle from her voluminous mediwitch robe and pushed it into Charity’s hand.
“How many times do I have to tell you I don’t drink potions? If I remember correctly, Calming Potions contain bat wings and lacewing heads among many other delightful things,” Charity said sarcastically.
“It’s not a potion, it’s tequila. You obviously need a drink,” Poppy said. Charity looked at the bottle much more enthusiastically; Poppy produced another one from her pocket.
“One tequila… two tequilas… three tequilas…” they recited. Charity passed out.
“Floor,” Poppy finished.