Barefoot Day Four
Title: Flight of Fancy
Author: rev02a
Rating: PG
Warnings: Bad writing.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine.
Prompt: "Everyone always listens during the best man's speech. I mean really listens. Uncles who don't listen to aunts, teens who don't listen to parents, old people who don't listen to doctors - they all pay real close attention when the best man speaks....
Here's why. The best man's speech is the ultimate seal of approval. Here's a man who's probably a lifelong friend of the groom. This man knows in the back of his mind that their friendship will never be the same. No one in the room has more to lose by this couple getting married.... If this man can give his blessing, then who can object?" - Joe Donatelli
It’s well after midnight when Mrs. Potter tucks Sirius into bed. While she does this, Remus and James huddle around the kitchen table and a long overdue cheese sandwich. They’re both exhausted; their muscles are taunt and weary, so much so that even chewing is a chore.
There is a sudden microburst of wind outside the house, both boys look up and watch a tree branch scrape the window pane. The shutters bang against the house. The wind chimes in the garden jangle frantically. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the wind dies away. James turns back to his sandwich. Remus sinks as if he is going to rest his head on the table and nap. And there is a sharp knock at the back door.
James and Remus start and stare at one another long and hard. Then James shuffles to the door and throws it open. There, filling the doorway is Albus Dumbledore. He is dressed in absurd lavender robes and a wonky, twisted hat. He grins at both boys and his eyes twinkle madly.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” he begins as he strides into the house without invitation. Both James and Remus are struck dumb at the prospect that their Headmaster could be in the Potter’s kitchen. Dumbledore, however, completely disregards their confusion and picks the left over crust from James’s plate. He turns it over and inspects it closely, before popping it in his mouth. Remus gapes. James offers Remus a Maraudery lifted eyebrow and shuts the door.
“Gentlemen,” Dumbledore greets warmly, while examining the contents of the Potter’s liquor cabinet, “I have come to visit you on this auspicious occasion because something uncanny and fascinating has happened, and, as The-Wizard-Who-Knows-Everything-for-No-Apparent-Reason, I know all about it and am here to tell you about in an infuriating round-about manner.”
Remus recognizes the signs of one of those life altering chats and leans back in his chair. James seats himself. Dumbledore conjures a brandy snuffer and pours himself a liberal amount of the brown liquor before joining the boys at the table.
“Once, many years ago, lads,” he begins, “there was a wizard named Aintgotnowomb who desperately wanted a child. He was unmarried and uninterested in the female sex and basically down on his luck in the whole spawning sprogs department. Then one day, he happened to be out in a field during a meteor shower and he made a wish on a falling star. As the star fell from the heavens, he wished that he might father a child. In that moment, across the globe, a magical thing happened.”
Dumbledore paused to take an excessively large gulp of his brandy.
“By some stroke of magical luck, Aintgotnowomb walked past a Muggle grocer and literally bumped into a man leaving there. In the course of their bump, their elbows rubbed three times. Both men dusted themselves off and went on their ways, but Aintgotnowomb became dreadfully ill. No one could identify his illness until months later… Aintgotnowomb gave birth to triplets.”
James is staring, mildly horrified, at his Headmaster. Remus just squints and blinks repeatedly. Dumbledore takes another swig of his drink.
“What Aintgotnowomb didn’t know was that the man he has bumped into was a werewolf and, as we know, werewolves who rub elbows with people of them same gender on nights during meteor showers will soon find that their partner is with… children.”
The tension in the room could not be more palpable. Remus blanches.
“But, Professor,” James begins slowly, clearly putting together the bits of information, “there was a meteor shower earlier this term… and… no one knows what Sirius is sick with-oh Merlin. Sirius and Remus are having puppies.”
Remus tinges green.
“Well, Mr. Potter, not puppies per say, but yes, they will be bringing offspring into the world.” With this, Dumbledore drains his snuffer and hops back to his feet. “Well then, gentlemen, as I always provide students with dangerous and frightening situations, and then suddenly disappear from the scene until most of the danger is past, I’ll let you sort out whose telling Mr. Black he is with child and hope you have a lovely evening.”
And without another word, the wizard deapparates from the Potter’s kitchen.
James gulps a few times and then turns to face Remus. Remus is staring sightlessly at the tabletop and beginning to hyperventilate.
“Moony,” James begins, first, grabbing his friend’s arm and then, deciding that it was best to avoid Remus’s elbows, grabs him by the chin, “you have to stay calm. I can’t deal with both you and Padfoot freaking out.”
Remus takes a shaky breath and then passes out. James holds him up by the chin for a moment before releasing his hold and letting his friend fall from his chair.
“I damn better be the best man at your… wedding or whatever. I certainly have earned it,” James mutters before dragging Remus’s deadweight to the couch and heading up to Sirius’s room to tell him the good news.
Author: rev02a
Rating: PG
Warnings: Bad writing.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, not mine.
Prompt: "Everyone always listens during the best man's speech. I mean really listens. Uncles who don't listen to aunts, teens who don't listen to parents, old people who don't listen to doctors - they all pay real close attention when the best man speaks....
Here's why. The best man's speech is the ultimate seal of approval. Here's a man who's probably a lifelong friend of the groom. This man knows in the back of his mind that their friendship will never be the same. No one in the room has more to lose by this couple getting married.... If this man can give his blessing, then who can object?" - Joe Donatelli
It’s well after midnight when Mrs. Potter tucks Sirius into bed. While she does this, Remus and James huddle around the kitchen table and a long overdue cheese sandwich. They’re both exhausted; their muscles are taunt and weary, so much so that even chewing is a chore.
There is a sudden microburst of wind outside the house, both boys look up and watch a tree branch scrape the window pane. The shutters bang against the house. The wind chimes in the garden jangle frantically. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the wind dies away. James turns back to his sandwich. Remus sinks as if he is going to rest his head on the table and nap. And there is a sharp knock at the back door.
James and Remus start and stare at one another long and hard. Then James shuffles to the door and throws it open. There, filling the doorway is Albus Dumbledore. He is dressed in absurd lavender robes and a wonky, twisted hat. He grins at both boys and his eyes twinkle madly.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” he begins as he strides into the house without invitation. Both James and Remus are struck dumb at the prospect that their Headmaster could be in the Potter’s kitchen. Dumbledore, however, completely disregards their confusion and picks the left over crust from James’s plate. He turns it over and inspects it closely, before popping it in his mouth. Remus gapes. James offers Remus a Maraudery lifted eyebrow and shuts the door.
“Gentlemen,” Dumbledore greets warmly, while examining the contents of the Potter’s liquor cabinet, “I have come to visit you on this auspicious occasion because something uncanny and fascinating has happened, and, as The-Wizard-Who-Knows-Everything-for-No-Apparent-Reason, I know all about it and am here to tell you about in an infuriating round-about manner.”
Remus recognizes the signs of one of those life altering chats and leans back in his chair. James seats himself. Dumbledore conjures a brandy snuffer and pours himself a liberal amount of the brown liquor before joining the boys at the table.
“Once, many years ago, lads,” he begins, “there was a wizard named Aintgotnowomb who desperately wanted a child. He was unmarried and uninterested in the female sex and basically down on his luck in the whole spawning sprogs department. Then one day, he happened to be out in a field during a meteor shower and he made a wish on a falling star. As the star fell from the heavens, he wished that he might father a child. In that moment, across the globe, a magical thing happened.”
Dumbledore paused to take an excessively large gulp of his brandy.
“By some stroke of magical luck, Aintgotnowomb walked past a Muggle grocer and literally bumped into a man leaving there. In the course of their bump, their elbows rubbed three times. Both men dusted themselves off and went on their ways, but Aintgotnowomb became dreadfully ill. No one could identify his illness until months later… Aintgotnowomb gave birth to triplets.”
James is staring, mildly horrified, at his Headmaster. Remus just squints and blinks repeatedly. Dumbledore takes another swig of his drink.
“What Aintgotnowomb didn’t know was that the man he has bumped into was a werewolf and, as we know, werewolves who rub elbows with people of them same gender on nights during meteor showers will soon find that their partner is with… children.”
The tension in the room could not be more palpable. Remus blanches.
“But, Professor,” James begins slowly, clearly putting together the bits of information, “there was a meteor shower earlier this term… and… no one knows what Sirius is sick with-oh Merlin. Sirius and Remus are having puppies.”
Remus tinges green.
“Well, Mr. Potter, not puppies per say, but yes, they will be bringing offspring into the world.” With this, Dumbledore drains his snuffer and hops back to his feet. “Well then, gentlemen, as I always provide students with dangerous and frightening situations, and then suddenly disappear from the scene until most of the danger is past, I’ll let you sort out whose telling Mr. Black he is with child and hope you have a lovely evening.”
And without another word, the wizard deapparates from the Potter’s kitchen.
James gulps a few times and then turns to face Remus. Remus is staring sightlessly at the tabletop and beginning to hyperventilate.
“Moony,” James begins, first, grabbing his friend’s arm and then, deciding that it was best to avoid Remus’s elbows, grabs him by the chin, “you have to stay calm. I can’t deal with both you and Padfoot freaking out.”
Remus takes a shaky breath and then passes out. James holds him up by the chin for a moment before releasing his hold and letting his friend fall from his chair.
“I damn better be the best man at your… wedding or whatever. I certainly have earned it,” James mutters before dragging Remus’s deadweight to the couch and heading up to Sirius’s room to tell him the good news.