I F***ing Do - Part 27
Title: I F***ing Do Part 27
Team Name: Order
Word Count: 100 x 10
Rating: Bad language - mature-ish. Well, how mature can an exercise in swearing possibly be?
Challenge: Creative cursing
Characters: Severus, Hermione, everyone else
Authors Notes: Part Twenty-Seven of the Hissing Harpies' round robin. JKR's toys, we're just playing with them and will put them back in the cupboard after we've washed their mouths out with soap and water.
It's my last turn on the round robin, and I'd just like to say how very much I have enjoyed this collaboration with the other Harpies. It's been a wonderful exercise in creativity and collectivity - thank you, ladies.
N.B. There may be a delay of a couple of days before the last installment - the Honeymoon - due to RL considerations. Buzzy would like to give the crowning episode her best attention, rather than writing in a rush. We wait with bated breath!
All the other episodes:
The other episodes
Part 27
Severus grinned suddenly and the effect spread like the ripples on a pond as the truth of Kingsley's words sunk in. With Dolohov bound, gagged and in custody, they were - finally - free of Voldemort.
"Splice the buggering mainbrace with a Bad Man's bollock-hairs!" squawked Fluffy, taking off so suddenly from Buggy's shoulder that the elf sat down.
The parrot flapped gleefully over to where Dolohov struggled in his bonds.
"Bombs away!" it cackled, doing what birds do best.
"I could grow to like that putrescent parrot," remarked Hermione before collapsing into giggles.
"Show Fluffy yer pretty…"
"But not that much."
*
As Dolohov was dragged out, still groggy and with his face swollen from where Toby had bowled him, Leadbelly took his pocket tool-kit to the parts of the cake which were still uncut. He whistled.
"Fussocking forge fumes! That's not cookery - that's chiselling weaponry!"
"It's Granny's recipe," Hermione told him. "She overruled the elves - tradition, you know. Personally, I think the whole family recipe book should be kept in an arsenal. I will never forget my tenth birthday tea…"
"Don't say any more," Severus teased. "Our wedding can't be the origin of the next goblin war."
"Mithering pansy! Pacifist killjoy!"
*
McGonagall and Jocasta argued about the top layer of the mighty cake. Tradition dictated that it should be saved to celebrate the birth of Severus and Hermione's first child.
"But who in the name of Abadon's wobbly arse would want such a thing?" gasped McGonagall. "It's completely inedible as it is now!"
"But think of the luck it's already brought!"
"Bast's whiskers! No! I've a better idea - the trophy room!" She prodded a morsel. "It won't even need a stasis spell."
"You're a bloody genius, Minerva. Even my mother won't complain about that."
Neither woman noticed the marzipan ladybird blink.
*
As wedding receptions go, it didn't turn out that badly. The elves cleaned up the worst of the mess, the goblins fixed the decorations, and the party sat in groups to picnic on the remains of the feast, or wandered amongst the cunningly concealed bowers.
"Do you think we should intervene?" Hermione asked Severus, pointing to where Toby and Aberforth were inviting Pomfrey to join them.
"Keep your stinking spirochetes to yourselves!" snapped Pomfrey. "I'm not a fwooping goat - as you'll discover when I take your rectal temperatures with a red hot poker!"
"Toby will never learn," sighed his son.
*
Narcissa was so involved in discussing jewellery with Hammerhand that she never noticed poor Lucius' chagrin. His hat had been lost in the fray, and the damage to his crowning glory was plainly visible to all. He kept his blemished side averted from their gaze.
"Mr Malfoy?" attempted Lavender tentatively.
"Leave me to my misery," he said in tragic tones, noticing the way her damaged dress had slipped. "That syphilitic son of a retarded she-troll has ruined me."
"I'm rather good with hair charms," she offered. "But we'll need privacy - lots of privacy…" And I need a job, she added silently.
*
Ron decided that his presence was indispensable to the happiness of some lady or other. He grabbed some champagne and went looking.
Melanie sat gloomily contemplating her stubbly arms. No amount of waxing charms would ever help when her time of the month was approaching.
"Hello, you fwooping gorgeous shag-bag," smarmed Ron.
"Go fuck a ferret, Weasel," she snapped.
She jumped when he insinuated a hand inside her dress.
"What the fuck…?"
Melanie was mortified. She hadn't bothered waxing the bits that didn't show.
"Get off…"
"That is so bloody sexy, you hairy houri, you!" murmured the Seducer.
She giggled.
*
Somehow Firenze had managed to arrange himself in such a way as to make himself look elegant and mysterious, yet which at the same subtly displayed his attributes.
A bevy of admiring women surrounded him.
At the edge of the group, Sprout and Vector were whispering over a quill and parchment. The happy couple, curious, looked over their shoulders. They were profoundly shocked at the carefully annotated diagrams.
"Holy buggering crap," breathed Hermione, somewhat impressed. "Academic Aberforthy!"
"We only wanted to test the theory!"
"And soon we'll be starting the empirical approach…"
"Pan's piddler - he'll never know what hit him!"
*
Everyone was shocked at the spectacle Luna provided.
A tree, weakened during the battle, had fallen suddenly to reveal Luna, fetchingly attired in wisps of chiffon and a few radishes, caught up in the powerful arms of Bane the human-hater, the pair of them snogging deeply.
They made a stunning picture, dark and pale, elemental in their passion.
"Clotho's hoof clippers!" he cried, flinging her astride his back and rearing dramatically. "By Prometheus' prick, I cannot stay in this place!"
And with that, they were gone.
"Nimue on a Nargle!" breathed Hermione. "I never knew she had it in her!"
*
"Well, as the guests have started to leave, Mr Snape…" said Hermione.
"Astute as ever, Mrs Snape," he replied smugly, patting her bottom with a proprietorial air. "Where's that hideous shrubbery you were carrying earlier? You'll need to lob it before we go."
"You have all the romantic sensibility of a… a… Ron, sometimes," she grumbled. "Everyone… CATCH!"
The bouquet fell gracefully into Eileen's eager hands as she trampled the other ladies to get it first.
At the top of the curve, something green and shiny took a separate trajectory.
"Fucking SKEETER!" screeched the bride. "Get her - before she escapes!"
*
Once again, hexes and food flew through the air as the crowd attempted to knock the blight-blasted beetle out of the air. But Skeeter, veteran of many a difficult getaway, was determined to achieve the greatest scoop of her career.
Panic set in as she neared a window.
"Shitfuckpissdamn NOOOOOOO!" wailed Hermione while Severus sent curse after curse at the agile insect.
Then something white flapped down from the rafters, nonchalantly dodging everything that came its way. Its wickedly curved beak opened. Everyone winced at the loud crackling the green carapace made.
"Fuck me - but I likes me critters crunchy!"
*
Team Name: Order
Word Count: 100 x 10
Rating: Bad language - mature-ish. Well, how mature can an exercise in swearing possibly be?
Challenge: Creative cursing
Characters: Severus, Hermione, everyone else
Authors Notes: Part Twenty-Seven of the Hissing Harpies' round robin. JKR's toys, we're just playing with them and will put them back in the cupboard after we've washed their mouths out with soap and water.
It's my last turn on the round robin, and I'd just like to say how very much I have enjoyed this collaboration with the other Harpies. It's been a wonderful exercise in creativity and collectivity - thank you, ladies.
N.B. There may be a delay of a couple of days before the last installment - the Honeymoon - due to RL considerations. Buzzy would like to give the crowning episode her best attention, rather than writing in a rush. We wait with bated breath!
All the other episodes:
The other episodes
Part 27
Severus grinned suddenly and the effect spread like the ripples on a pond as the truth of Kingsley's words sunk in. With Dolohov bound, gagged and in custody, they were - finally - free of Voldemort.
"Splice the buggering mainbrace with a Bad Man's bollock-hairs!" squawked Fluffy, taking off so suddenly from Buggy's shoulder that the elf sat down.
The parrot flapped gleefully over to where Dolohov struggled in his bonds.
"Bombs away!" it cackled, doing what birds do best.
"I could grow to like that putrescent parrot," remarked Hermione before collapsing into giggles.
"Show Fluffy yer pretty…"
"But not that much."
*
As Dolohov was dragged out, still groggy and with his face swollen from where Toby had bowled him, Leadbelly took his pocket tool-kit to the parts of the cake which were still uncut. He whistled.
"Fussocking forge fumes! That's not cookery - that's chiselling weaponry!"
"It's Granny's recipe," Hermione told him. "She overruled the elves - tradition, you know. Personally, I think the whole family recipe book should be kept in an arsenal. I will never forget my tenth birthday tea…"
"Don't say any more," Severus teased. "Our wedding can't be the origin of the next goblin war."
"Mithering pansy! Pacifist killjoy!"
*
McGonagall and Jocasta argued about the top layer of the mighty cake. Tradition dictated that it should be saved to celebrate the birth of Severus and Hermione's first child.
"But who in the name of Abadon's wobbly arse would want such a thing?" gasped McGonagall. "It's completely inedible as it is now!"
"But think of the luck it's already brought!"
"Bast's whiskers! No! I've a better idea - the trophy room!" She prodded a morsel. "It won't even need a stasis spell."
"You're a bloody genius, Minerva. Even my mother won't complain about that."
Neither woman noticed the marzipan ladybird blink.
*
As wedding receptions go, it didn't turn out that badly. The elves cleaned up the worst of the mess, the goblins fixed the decorations, and the party sat in groups to picnic on the remains of the feast, or wandered amongst the cunningly concealed bowers.
"Do you think we should intervene?" Hermione asked Severus, pointing to where Toby and Aberforth were inviting Pomfrey to join them.
"Keep your stinking spirochetes to yourselves!" snapped Pomfrey. "I'm not a fwooping goat - as you'll discover when I take your rectal temperatures with a red hot poker!"
"Toby will never learn," sighed his son.
*
Narcissa was so involved in discussing jewellery with Hammerhand that she never noticed poor Lucius' chagrin. His hat had been lost in the fray, and the damage to his crowning glory was plainly visible to all. He kept his blemished side averted from their gaze.
"Mr Malfoy?" attempted Lavender tentatively.
"Leave me to my misery," he said in tragic tones, noticing the way her damaged dress had slipped. "That syphilitic son of a retarded she-troll has ruined me."
"I'm rather good with hair charms," she offered. "But we'll need privacy - lots of privacy…" And I need a job, she added silently.
*
Ron decided that his presence was indispensable to the happiness of some lady or other. He grabbed some champagne and went looking.
Melanie sat gloomily contemplating her stubbly arms. No amount of waxing charms would ever help when her time of the month was approaching.
"Hello, you fwooping gorgeous shag-bag," smarmed Ron.
"Go fuck a ferret, Weasel," she snapped.
She jumped when he insinuated a hand inside her dress.
"What the fuck…?"
Melanie was mortified. She hadn't bothered waxing the bits that didn't show.
"Get off…"
"That is so bloody sexy, you hairy houri, you!" murmured the Seducer.
She giggled.
*
Somehow Firenze had managed to arrange himself in such a way as to make himself look elegant and mysterious, yet which at the same subtly displayed his attributes.
A bevy of admiring women surrounded him.
At the edge of the group, Sprout and Vector were whispering over a quill and parchment. The happy couple, curious, looked over their shoulders. They were profoundly shocked at the carefully annotated diagrams.
"Holy buggering crap," breathed Hermione, somewhat impressed. "Academic Aberforthy!"
"We only wanted to test the theory!"
"And soon we'll be starting the empirical approach…"
"Pan's piddler - he'll never know what hit him!"
*
Everyone was shocked at the spectacle Luna provided.
A tree, weakened during the battle, had fallen suddenly to reveal Luna, fetchingly attired in wisps of chiffon and a few radishes, caught up in the powerful arms of Bane the human-hater, the pair of them snogging deeply.
They made a stunning picture, dark and pale, elemental in their passion.
"Clotho's hoof clippers!" he cried, flinging her astride his back and rearing dramatically. "By Prometheus' prick, I cannot stay in this place!"
And with that, they were gone.
"Nimue on a Nargle!" breathed Hermione. "I never knew she had it in her!"
*
"Well, as the guests have started to leave, Mr Snape…" said Hermione.
"Astute as ever, Mrs Snape," he replied smugly, patting her bottom with a proprietorial air. "Where's that hideous shrubbery you were carrying earlier? You'll need to lob it before we go."
"You have all the romantic sensibility of a… a… Ron, sometimes," she grumbled. "Everyone… CATCH!"
The bouquet fell gracefully into Eileen's eager hands as she trampled the other ladies to get it first.
At the top of the curve, something green and shiny took a separate trajectory.
"Fucking SKEETER!" screeched the bride. "Get her - before she escapes!"
*
Once again, hexes and food flew through the air as the crowd attempted to knock the blight-blasted beetle out of the air. But Skeeter, veteran of many a difficult getaway, was determined to achieve the greatest scoop of her career.
Panic set in as she neared a window.
"Shitfuckpissdamn NOOOOOOO!" wailed Hermione while Severus sent curse after curse at the agile insect.
Then something white flapped down from the rafters, nonchalantly dodging everything that came its way. Its wickedly curved beak opened. Everyone winced at the loud crackling the green carapace made.
"Fuck me - but I likes me critters crunchy!"
*