Dresden Files / Bob the Skull / 16. Improvise
Title: It Must Have Been the Mistletoe
Fandom: The Dresden Files (TV-verse)
Characters: Bob, Harry
Prompt: 16. Improvise
Word Count: 842
Rating: G
Summary: Harry tries to pass a crucial test.
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me. Just passing through.
Harry was feeling extremely pleased with himself. This was one potions test he couldn't possibly fail!
The ingredients he had chosen with painstaking care were arrayed on the work table in order of application. He had already taken the liberty of pouring the base liquid, an expensive red wine from his uncle's cellar, into the small copper cauldron and positioned it over the Bunsen burner. Harry grinned his satisfaction. Let Bob just try and find fault with this potion!
"You seem quite pleased with yourself," observed the familiar imperious voice from directly behind him.
"That's because I am," admitted Harry. "I think I've finally got it right this time, Bob."
"Do you?" The ghost stepped forward and cast a sharp, pale gaze over his student's preparations. "Then let us see if your confidence is warranted. You may begin."
"Right!" Harry clapped his hands and rubbed them together. He was actually eager to show his mentor what he'd come up with. "I call this my Princess and the Frog potion."
"You intend to transmute someone into--?"
"No, no! Nothing like that! Jeez, Bob, what do you take me for?" Wouldn’t that go over just great with his uncle and the High Council: a potion intended to break one of the Laws of Magic. "I'm not suicidal! What we've got here is kissing potion."
"A 'kissing' potion?"
"Right! Get a girl to drink this and she'll want to kiss the first guy she sees. Which is hopefully the one giving her the potion."
"A minor love spell." Bob did not seem especially impressed.
"What's love got to do with it? No, it's a kissing potion. No love. No monkey business. Just kissing," said Harry defensively. "It's for all those wall flowers out there that can't get anyone to dance with them at the senior prom or who don't think they'll ever be kissed. This will give them a little extra chance, you know?"
"Would it not be simpler to concoct the potion for yourself rather than the lady?"
"You mean, like, brew a potion that makes me irresistible?" When Bob nodded Harry looked even more insufferably pleased with himself (if such a thing could be possible). "I thought about that but decided against it," he admitted, "Too much chance that the wrong girl will be effected or that I'll wind up being chased by everyone in sight until the damned thing wears off."
"How thoughtfully chauvinistic of you."
"I know how it sounds but this is the 1980's."
Bob was perfectly well aware of the fact. "Meaning?"
"Um, well … you might not realize it, but there are more than just girls who might be effected by this sort of thing."
"Ahhh. I see." Bob very nearly allowed himself the ghost of a smile. "Very well. For the moment let's overlook the questionable logic of its application. Please explain to me what ingredients you intend to use in the mixture."
"Right!" Here goes, thought Harry as he began to point out the contents of the neatly ordered dishes and beakers. "I've got rose petals for touch, strawberries for taste, a bit of powdered frog's lips for sight, a sprig of mistletoe for-"
"Mistletoe?"
"Just a leaf and one berry. It's for-"
"Do you intend to poison the recipient?"
"What? No, of course not! Why would I-- Oh." Harry slapped his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Oh CRAP! The berries! They're poisonous, aren't they?"
Bob nodded as Harry realized his mistake. "While I doubt that one would prove fatal, it will most certainly cause acute gastrointestinal distress. Not exactly conducive to physical enticement."
"I can't believe I forgot that!" Harry sank heavily into the nearest chair and stared at the sprig of bright green and red in its silver dish. "I even cut it with a golden sickle under a full moon, just like you told me. Dammit! I'm an idiot!"
"Hardly an idiot," Bob assured him, his tone conciliatory. "The theory was sound but you might want to revisit a few texts on botany. Had you concocted the potion for yourself, the plant's natural toxins would have been negated by your inherent magic and wizard's blood. Mortals, on the other hand, have no such protection."
"Crap."
"So you have said." Bob considered the young man with a thoughtful expression, divining more of the purpose behind the potion's intent than Harry might have liked. "There are easier ways to get a young lady to kiss you. For instance, you could start by shaving a bit more regularly instead of insisting on wearing that shadowed scruff on your face. It might also help if you actually wore a proper shirt instead of glorified underwear."
Harry snorted. "A shirt and tie are hardly irresistible magic, Bob."
"Consider good grooming the base element to the spell," his mentor suggested. "But if it's true enchantment that you desire to ensure a lady's kiss, I suggest that you use the mistletoe in the traditional way."
"Yeah? How?"
"Try holding it over her head instead of poisoning her with it."
Fandom: The Dresden Files (TV-verse)
Characters: Bob, Harry
Prompt: 16. Improvise
Word Count: 842
Rating: G
Summary: Harry tries to pass a crucial test.
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me. Just passing through.
Harry was feeling extremely pleased with himself. This was one potions test he couldn't possibly fail!
The ingredients he had chosen with painstaking care were arrayed on the work table in order of application. He had already taken the liberty of pouring the base liquid, an expensive red wine from his uncle's cellar, into the small copper cauldron and positioned it over the Bunsen burner. Harry grinned his satisfaction. Let Bob just try and find fault with this potion!
"You seem quite pleased with yourself," observed the familiar imperious voice from directly behind him.
"That's because I am," admitted Harry. "I think I've finally got it right this time, Bob."
"Do you?" The ghost stepped forward and cast a sharp, pale gaze over his student's preparations. "Then let us see if your confidence is warranted. You may begin."
"Right!" Harry clapped his hands and rubbed them together. He was actually eager to show his mentor what he'd come up with. "I call this my Princess and the Frog potion."
"You intend to transmute someone into--?"
"No, no! Nothing like that! Jeez, Bob, what do you take me for?" Wouldn’t that go over just great with his uncle and the High Council: a potion intended to break one of the Laws of Magic. "I'm not suicidal! What we've got here is kissing potion."
"A 'kissing' potion?"
"Right! Get a girl to drink this and she'll want to kiss the first guy she sees. Which is hopefully the one giving her the potion."
"A minor love spell." Bob did not seem especially impressed.
"What's love got to do with it? No, it's a kissing potion. No love. No monkey business. Just kissing," said Harry defensively. "It's for all those wall flowers out there that can't get anyone to dance with them at the senior prom or who don't think they'll ever be kissed. This will give them a little extra chance, you know?"
"Would it not be simpler to concoct the potion for yourself rather than the lady?"
"You mean, like, brew a potion that makes me irresistible?" When Bob nodded Harry looked even more insufferably pleased with himself (if such a thing could be possible). "I thought about that but decided against it," he admitted, "Too much chance that the wrong girl will be effected or that I'll wind up being chased by everyone in sight until the damned thing wears off."
"How thoughtfully chauvinistic of you."
"I know how it sounds but this is the 1980's."
Bob was perfectly well aware of the fact. "Meaning?"
"Um, well … you might not realize it, but there are more than just girls who might be effected by this sort of thing."
"Ahhh. I see." Bob very nearly allowed himself the ghost of a smile. "Very well. For the moment let's overlook the questionable logic of its application. Please explain to me what ingredients you intend to use in the mixture."
"Right!" Here goes, thought Harry as he began to point out the contents of the neatly ordered dishes and beakers. "I've got rose petals for touch, strawberries for taste, a bit of powdered frog's lips for sight, a sprig of mistletoe for-"
"Mistletoe?"
"Just a leaf and one berry. It's for-"
"Do you intend to poison the recipient?"
"What? No, of course not! Why would I-- Oh." Harry slapped his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Oh CRAP! The berries! They're poisonous, aren't they?"
Bob nodded as Harry realized his mistake. "While I doubt that one would prove fatal, it will most certainly cause acute gastrointestinal distress. Not exactly conducive to physical enticement."
"I can't believe I forgot that!" Harry sank heavily into the nearest chair and stared at the sprig of bright green and red in its silver dish. "I even cut it with a golden sickle under a full moon, just like you told me. Dammit! I'm an idiot!"
"Hardly an idiot," Bob assured him, his tone conciliatory. "The theory was sound but you might want to revisit a few texts on botany. Had you concocted the potion for yourself, the plant's natural toxins would have been negated by your inherent magic and wizard's blood. Mortals, on the other hand, have no such protection."
"Crap."
"So you have said." Bob considered the young man with a thoughtful expression, divining more of the purpose behind the potion's intent than Harry might have liked. "There are easier ways to get a young lady to kiss you. For instance, you could start by shaving a bit more regularly instead of insisting on wearing that shadowed scruff on your face. It might also help if you actually wore a proper shirt instead of glorified underwear."
Harry snorted. "A shirt and tie are hardly irresistible magic, Bob."
"Consider good grooming the base element to the spell," his mentor suggested. "But if it's true enchantment that you desire to ensure a lady's kiss, I suggest that you use the mistletoe in the traditional way."
"Yeah? How?"
"Try holding it over her head instead of poisoning her with it."