I F***ing Do! Part 17
Title: I F***ing Do! Part 17
Team Name: Spy for the Men in Black
Word Count: 10x100 (but only five will count, I’m afraid)
Rating: M (language)
Challenge: Creative Cursing
Characters: Hermione/Severus, Fluffy, Buggy, Minerva and many others
Author’s Notes: This is part 17 of the round-robin drabble series “I F***ing Do!”, a Hissing Harpies production relating the true story of the Snape-Granger wedding.
Many thanks to all the Harpies for their help, and especially to
camillo1978
for a quick and efficient beta.
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*******
“Our Sev has grown a spine at last!” Toby chuffed.
“Not your doing, you shiftless, goat-reeking arse!” was Eileen’s retort.
“What do you mean, you crazy whore?”
Toby was gesticulating wildly as Minerva stood up.
“Mr. and Mrs. Snape, that’s quite enough. You’re coming to Hogwarts with me.”
She shoved a bottle into Toby's hand, and his fingers closed reflexively. He barely had time to notice Eileen’s smirk before she joined her hand with theirs and the three of them vanished in a whirlwind.
Jocasta took Hermione upstairs.
When everyone finished screaming, bickering, yelling and flailing, they eventually left.
*******
After a long moment of silence had elapsed, a trembling Buggy emerged from under the coffee table and sat on the floor, rocking back and forth and wailing softly.
“Blast his whoozy green pea jellied brain, Buggy’s finished! His mother always told him he’d end up a free elf.”
He had screwed up royally. Professor Greasyhead and Miss Bushy wouldn’t get married at Hogwarts. His mission had ended in disaster. No bragging rights for the Hogwarts elves. Only shame. And he couldn’t bear to imagine what Elder would say when he would hear what Buggy had done in his recklessness.
*******
“Bugger me sideways with a pineapple.” A hoarse croak had come from behind the couch.
Buggy crept cautiously and peeked round the heavy furniture.
“Horny barnacles, pet Fluffy, you silly bug!”
The cage had fallen upside down. The water and the food had spilled, and the parrot was trapped in the half open door.
Buggy considered the bird for a moment, then freed it carefully from under the cage. Holding its wings gently folded, he smoothed the ruffled feathers.
Fluffy bit his finger.
“Oy!” said Buggy, and sucked on the hurt appendage.
“Sweet, yummy, crunchy bug,” crooned the winged reprobate.
*******
Buggy rummaged in his tea-towel and produced some Every-Flavour Beans. The parrot tilted its head, then tentatively picked a brown one. It was probably cockroach-flavoured, Buggy thought, as the bird crooned in delight.
Fluffy spat the next bean right into the elf’s eye.
“Bloody shitting sick shark’s vomit!”
Buggy took note to avoid mint flavours.
After that, the parrot ate heartily, cleaning everything off, then settled down on Buggy’s shoulder, digging his claws in.
Buggy winced but didn’t protest. If he was going to be an outcast, he would at least have one companion.
And love doesn’t come without suffering.
*******
“Fuck the moths in her chimney’s cobwebs,” groused Toby. “That old scarecrow thinks I’m not good enough for the castle.”
“Or the fucking castle’s not good for you,” smirked Aberforth. “Gooseberry rum?”
“That’s a chum.” Toby dilated his connaisseur’s nostrils. “Say, you’re breeding Nubians or LaMancha?”
As Eileen was now a fairly permanent resident in Slughorn’s quarters, Minerva had preferred to rent a room for Toby at the Hog’s Head. She had at last donned her tartan dressing gown (“Juno’s tits, what a day!”) and was pouring herself a stiff Firewhisky when a sharp “Crack” made her spill the liquor.
*******
A very old, wizened elf had Apparated onto her rug, holding a discomfited Buggy by the scruff of his neck. A white parrot clung to Buggy’s shoulder for dear life, fluttering and cursing indignantly.
“Elder!” said Minerva in surprise. The patriarch elf almost never left his noble cupboard.
“Headmistress must give Buggy a sock! He’s not worthy of Hogwarts!”
“Now, now, Elder. He just wanted Hogwarts to have the wedding, as we all did.”
“Headmistress doesn’t know all! This troll-brained, pesky elf went and plotted with goblins!”
Plotted with goblins? Bastet’s tickly whiskers, that was new.
“Let’s hear it, Buggy.”
*******
Jocasta wanted to stay, but Hermione refused. She had taken a double dose of Sleeping Draught and didn’t want to think about anything, not even Severus.
“You’re sure you’ll be all right?” fretted her mother.
“I’ll promise I’ll be fine, Mum. Please just go.”
At last Jocasta left, and Hermione fell asleep.
Wearing the Fotheringay-Forbes dress she waded through tall nettles. She knew she was not far from Hogwarts, but the rain was so hard she couldn’t see anything. Her feet squelched on the sodden, muddy ground. Her drenched crinoline protected her from the nettles, but it dragged her down.
*******
Hermione took the dress off and wandered uphill, in the supposed direction of the Quidditch pitch. When she was half way there, the rain stopped and she heard laughing behind her. She turned, trying to cover herself with crossed arms, and saw the dirty white spot of her abandoned dress, spread on the shore like a picnic blanket. On it, a naked Lavender and Parvati embraced a shadowy man, while a dozen Hinkypunks danced around with rosy lanterns.
She woke screaming.
“Here,” said Severus. “Drink this.”
The sunbeams were already slanted. She had slept for the better part of the day.
*******
Severus supported her back. She obediently took the glass and swallowed the bitter potion.
“Can I have coffee now?”
After she had her coffee, he explained.
When Lavender portkeyed back with the still unconscious Parvati, she didn’t even wait for the morning meeting. Lucius, Severus and Harry had debriefed her all night, and through part of the next day.
“Dolohov,” murmured Hermione.
“Yes,” answered Severus. “It rather brings things into perspective, doesn’t it?”
“What in Circe’s name are we going to do?”
“Lucius and Harry are going to Romania. They have already contacted the local Aurors and the Malfoy network.”
*******
“And you?”
“Working with Slughorn on our latest research. I've a hunch that is what Dolohov wants most.”
“And me?”
“Minerva wants a word with you about this godforsaken goblin problem. And about our wedding.”
Hermione beamed at him. Then her expression darkened again.
“I suppose I’ll have to apologise to everyone and repeat all those planning shenanigans.”
“Don’t you dare back off! What you said was fwooping perfect! You put everyone in their place, and they’ll have to cope with it.”
Hermione looked at Severus in shock. He smiled.
“You just forgot I was present and silenced me too!”
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