Like a Good Cup of Tea (Luna- and Trelawney-centric, G)
A ficlet for cyaneus, who requested something funny about Luna, and suggested Divination class as a setting. I've never written either of these characters before. I didn't think I'd ever have reason to, honestly, but this was really fun. :)
Title: Like a Good Cup of Tea
Characters: Sibyll Trelawney, Luna Lovegood (accidental implication of Trelawney/Aberforth's Goat)
Rating: G
Summary: At first Sibyll thought Luna would be like a good cup of tea...
Word Count: ~400
On the first day of class, Sibyll Trelawney had been convinced she’d found a new protégé, better even than the Brown and Patil girls. Luna Lovegood was obviously steeping in the Beyond already, and as with a cup of good tea, Sibyll would have only to add a little milk and sugar before she was perfect.
Except that by the second day of class, it was obvious that Luna’s oddness was not nearly so charming as Sibyll had anticipated.
“Let us begin with Miss Lovegood,” she said, gliding towards the table where Luna sat, interestedly examining her teacup from every angle. Any other student might have been flattered to be addressed by name so early in the term, but Luna didn’t even look up. Sibyll gazed over her shoulder into the mass of loose tea congealing at the bottom of the cup, outlining death omens, bad luck, probable injury, in the muck. “Tell us what you see there,” she whispered, as Luna cocked her head once more, a flying radish earring narrowly missing Sibyll’s glasses.
“A Crumple-Horned Snorkack,” replied Luna promptly. The class tittered, but she ignored them as she continued. “Probably a juvenile, given the way the horns go straight out here and here.” She pointed to two little blobs of tea. “Their horns don’t crumple until they reach maturity.”
Sibyll was taken aback. “That’s not right. But what about the cross here, my dear?” she asked a bit desperately. “Don’t you see it? There, plain as day.” Which wasn’t true, but the other children were whispering behind her, all attention gone from their teacups. “That means terrible trials ahead for you.”
“That’s its tail,” said Luna bluntly. Sibyll floated on to the next table, privately deciding that Luna Lovegood was nothing like a good cup of tea at all. If anything, she was cooking sherry: easy enough going down, until you wake up next to a strange goat at the Hog’s Head, wondering where your hat is. She was grateful when the Weasley girl, obviously bored and sleepy, made up something out of the book, and Sibyll got to correct her with utmost authority: “That is not a broomstick for flying, child, that is a shovel, and it means you will toil away at an impossible task, which may one day end your life.” There. She felt better already.
~fin~
I heart feedback almost as much as I heart cyaneus. :)
Title: Like a Good Cup of Tea
Characters: Sibyll Trelawney, Luna Lovegood (accidental implication of Trelawney/Aberforth's Goat)
Rating: G
Summary: At first Sibyll thought Luna would be like a good cup of tea...
Word Count: ~400
On the first day of class, Sibyll Trelawney had been convinced she’d found a new protégé, better even than the Brown and Patil girls. Luna Lovegood was obviously steeping in the Beyond already, and as with a cup of good tea, Sibyll would have only to add a little milk and sugar before she was perfect.
Except that by the second day of class, it was obvious that Luna’s oddness was not nearly so charming as Sibyll had anticipated.
“Let us begin with Miss Lovegood,” she said, gliding towards the table where Luna sat, interestedly examining her teacup from every angle. Any other student might have been flattered to be addressed by name so early in the term, but Luna didn’t even look up. Sibyll gazed over her shoulder into the mass of loose tea congealing at the bottom of the cup, outlining death omens, bad luck, probable injury, in the muck. “Tell us what you see there,” she whispered, as Luna cocked her head once more, a flying radish earring narrowly missing Sibyll’s glasses.
“A Crumple-Horned Snorkack,” replied Luna promptly. The class tittered, but she ignored them as she continued. “Probably a juvenile, given the way the horns go straight out here and here.” She pointed to two little blobs of tea. “Their horns don’t crumple until they reach maturity.”
Sibyll was taken aback. “That’s not right. But what about the cross here, my dear?” she asked a bit desperately. “Don’t you see it? There, plain as day.” Which wasn’t true, but the other children were whispering behind her, all attention gone from their teacups. “That means terrible trials ahead for you.”
“That’s its tail,” said Luna bluntly. Sibyll floated on to the next table, privately deciding that Luna Lovegood was nothing like a good cup of tea at all. If anything, she was cooking sherry: easy enough going down, until you wake up next to a strange goat at the Hog’s Head, wondering where your hat is. She was grateful when the Weasley girl, obviously bored and sleepy, made up something out of the book, and Sibyll got to correct her with utmost authority: “That is not a broomstick for flying, child, that is a shovel, and it means you will toil away at an impossible task, which may one day end your life.” There. She felt better already.
~fin~
I heart feedback almost as much as I heart cyaneus. :)