fic: Beyond That Stupid Veil
Title: Beyond That Stupid Veil
Summary: A cracky look at what the dead people do all day.
Characters/Pairings: James/Lily, disgusted mentions of Harry/Cho, Gideon Prewett, Fabian Prewett, cameo appearance by Cedric The Hair Diggory
Genre: Crack
Rating/Warnings: G G G
Word Count: 705
Any avid fan of Doctor Who will scoff when told that this place is the only plane of existence. There are little gateways and glimpses of parallel universes nearly everywhere if you know where to look.
One of these little portals is beyond That Veil in the Department of Mysteries. Behind the ethereal drapery, well, the Prewett brothers will say it is the most brilliant party this side of Dead World.
No one has bothered to tell them that it is the only party.
Anyway, on occasion, as a way to check on what's going on with the living, the Veil That Causes Much Grief for Marauder Fans Everywhere can act as a sort of television.
And in front of it today were James and Lily Potter. James buried his head in his hands and said "Merlin, my son. My son, bad with women. Lil, he's so... he wouldn't be this awkward if we were alive, would he?"
'Of course he would,' Lily thinks. "Of course not."
"Oh and he's just going to pass up that Ginny Weasley who clearly fancies him for some girl who is replacing him for that Cedric bloke."
"Oi, I can hear you Mr. Potter!" Cedric's voice bellows from a corner in which he is chatting up some veelas who were an unfortunate casualty of a perfumery explosion.
"Well your living ex-girlfriend is replacing you with my son." James groans, looking for something to throw at the veil.
"Bollocks, ten galleons that'll last till Valentine's Day." Cedric says.
"Oh well that's a horrible first kiss." Lily says with disdain. "Kissing crying girls? Ergh, our son deserves so much better."
"Thank you" James replies with exasperation, "Though 'f you remember those Prewetts kissed loads of crying girls, but they were crying because the Prewetts acknowledged their existence."
"What about us?" Gideon calls, strolling over, wearing a satin cigar smoking robe, carrying a brandy snifter and wearing a monocle. "There's a costume party with the Dead Poet's Society. I wanted to go as Dorian Gray before he lost his beauty but that wouldn't have been much of a stretch-"
"I had to pry myself away from Shakespeare you know," Fabian says with unease. "He kept laying it on thick about how excellent my Caesar toga is."
Lily furrows her brow and shakes her head. "WE were just complaining about how our son is starting a relationship with someone who is sort of just replacing him for that boy over there."
Gideon and Fabian survey the images before them. "Oh... oi, can you switch it to Weasleys?"
"Bill chatting up that veela, excellent." Gideon says, punching the air. "Learned from the best."
The image switches to Charlie hauling off a wheelbarrow full of dragon dung. With the silence that follows, Lily offers "At... least he followed his dream?"
"That's right, Charlie, stick it to the man. Stick their expectations in their eyes." Fabian nods approvingly. "You're brilliant, Potter."
The image flips to Percy. "Twat." Three of them say with a sneer. Gideon, however, says, "He'll come around. And his face will be a beautiful Weasley red when he admits it."
"Well at least one of us is optimistic about that one." Fabian says through clenched teeth. "Ah, our pride and joy. Fred and George. Brilliant. Underrated. They're doing so much better than we did, Gid."
"We never thought to put our creativity in sweets. Brilliant. I wonder what those toffees taste like- oh bloody hell, Ronald?" Gideon sighs. "He definitely did not get our magic touch."
"That's because you dropped him you sod." Fabian chuckles.
They watch the image of Ron falling asleep onto his book, eventually the drool starts to trickle out of his mouth. Gideon looks at Lily and James and nods over to the image and says, "Well... James, Lily, it could be worse."
"Yeah, at least Harry's kissing girls... oh Ron." Fabian sighs, waving his hand at the veil and the images dissipate. "Now they're about to have an intense game of Sickles and James Joyce brought the best whisky."
"Of course he did."
Summary: A cracky look at what the dead people do all day.
Characters/Pairings: James/Lily, disgusted mentions of Harry/Cho, Gideon Prewett, Fabian Prewett, cameo appearance by Cedric The Hair Diggory
Genre: Crack
Rating/Warnings: G G G
Word Count: 705
Any avid fan of Doctor Who will scoff when told that this place is the only plane of existence. There are little gateways and glimpses of parallel universes nearly everywhere if you know where to look.
One of these little portals is beyond That Veil in the Department of Mysteries. Behind the ethereal drapery, well, the Prewett brothers will say it is the most brilliant party this side of Dead World.
No one has bothered to tell them that it is the only party.
Anyway, on occasion, as a way to check on what's going on with the living, the Veil That Causes Much Grief for Marauder Fans Everywhere can act as a sort of television.
And in front of it today were James and Lily Potter. James buried his head in his hands and said "Merlin, my son. My son, bad with women. Lil, he's so... he wouldn't be this awkward if we were alive, would he?"
'Of course he would,' Lily thinks. "Of course not."
"Oh and he's just going to pass up that Ginny Weasley who clearly fancies him for some girl who is replacing him for that Cedric bloke."
"Oi, I can hear you Mr. Potter!" Cedric's voice bellows from a corner in which he is chatting up some veelas who were an unfortunate casualty of a perfumery explosion.
"Well your living ex-girlfriend is replacing you with my son." James groans, looking for something to throw at the veil.
"Bollocks, ten galleons that'll last till Valentine's Day." Cedric says.
"Oh well that's a horrible first kiss." Lily says with disdain. "Kissing crying girls? Ergh, our son deserves so much better."
"Thank you" James replies with exasperation, "Though 'f you remember those Prewetts kissed loads of crying girls, but they were crying because the Prewetts acknowledged their existence."
"What about us?" Gideon calls, strolling over, wearing a satin cigar smoking robe, carrying a brandy snifter and wearing a monocle. "There's a costume party with the Dead Poet's Society. I wanted to go as Dorian Gray before he lost his beauty but that wouldn't have been much of a stretch-"
"I had to pry myself away from Shakespeare you know," Fabian says with unease. "He kept laying it on thick about how excellent my Caesar toga is."
Lily furrows her brow and shakes her head. "WE were just complaining about how our son is starting a relationship with someone who is sort of just replacing him for that boy over there."
Gideon and Fabian survey the images before them. "Oh... oi, can you switch it to Weasleys?"
"Bill chatting up that veela, excellent." Gideon says, punching the air. "Learned from the best."
The image switches to Charlie hauling off a wheelbarrow full of dragon dung. With the silence that follows, Lily offers "At... least he followed his dream?"
"That's right, Charlie, stick it to the man. Stick their expectations in their eyes." Fabian nods approvingly. "You're brilliant, Potter."
The image flips to Percy. "Twat." Three of them say with a sneer. Gideon, however, says, "He'll come around. And his face will be a beautiful Weasley red when he admits it."
"Well at least one of us is optimistic about that one." Fabian says through clenched teeth. "Ah, our pride and joy. Fred and George. Brilliant. Underrated. They're doing so much better than we did, Gid."
"We never thought to put our creativity in sweets. Brilliant. I wonder what those toffees taste like- oh bloody hell, Ronald?" Gideon sighs. "He definitely did not get our magic touch."
"That's because you dropped him you sod." Fabian chuckles.
They watch the image of Ron falling asleep onto his book, eventually the drool starts to trickle out of his mouth. Gideon looks at Lily and James and nods over to the image and says, "Well... James, Lily, it could be worse."
"Yeah, at least Harry's kissing girls... oh Ron." Fabian sighs, waving his hand at the veil and the images dissipate. "Now they're about to have an intense game of Sickles and James Joyce brought the best whisky."
"Of course he did."