Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, Dr. Pepper or L'Epicier. L'Epicier
is this great tea boutique that is based in Shibuya. Their website is
www.lepicier.com. Earl Grey Darjeeling (700), Daruma (868), and Queen's
Hope (664) are actual teas sold there.
Author's note: This is my very first attempt at fanfiction. Please be patient with me.
*****
Four O' Clock
Remus liked his Earl Grey Darjeeling, thank you very much. When James pointed out that it both smelled and tasted rather unique, Remus just shrugged it off and continued purchasing it, loose leafed and always from the boutique. Ordinary Earl Grey Darjeeling, from the grocer's was bad enough, and when it was placed in teabags, now that was just an insult.
James was never particular about his tea. Sometimes it was high-grade Queen's Hope, and other times it was run of the mill orange pekoe. Nevertheless, James Potter was his tea-buddy. They were the only two in their circle of friends who truly enjoyed it.
Sirius usually refrained from consuming any, claiming that tea-drinking was a pastime that his and other aristocratic pureblood families indulged in, and he'd much rather not be reminded of them. Rather, he got his caffeine fix from various coffees, and fizzy muggle drinks. Truly, Sirius didn't hate tea, he was most likely attempting to rebel against his upbringing. Remus had a faint memory of him drinking some rather cheap jasmine tea, no doubt bought at a Chinese muggle emporium.
Peter was different, however. He really did detest all three beverages, claiming the tea too sour or bitter, the coffee too strong, and the soda too acidic. Once, during a drunken celebration, they had persuaded Peter to drink a Dr. Pepper. Approximately thirty seconds after poor Wormtail had downed the drink, he vomited all over the pricey Persian carpeting. Peter could not control his stomach until perhaps, seven in the morning, upon which he passed out. James and Sirius never forced Peter drink or eat anything after that, drunk or not.
As the clock struck four, Remus was brought back to the present. He sat at the kitchen table, with an empty cup and a sealed tin of L'Epicier's finest Daruma that Dumbledore had sent over. It wasn't oddly flavored, he just didn't have the heart to open it.
Author's note: This is my very first attempt at fanfiction. Please be patient with me.
*****
Four O' Clock
Remus liked his Earl Grey Darjeeling, thank you very much. When James pointed out that it both smelled and tasted rather unique, Remus just shrugged it off and continued purchasing it, loose leafed and always from the boutique. Ordinary Earl Grey Darjeeling, from the grocer's was bad enough, and when it was placed in teabags, now that was just an insult.
James was never particular about his tea. Sometimes it was high-grade Queen's Hope, and other times it was run of the mill orange pekoe. Nevertheless, James Potter was his tea-buddy. They were the only two in their circle of friends who truly enjoyed it.
Sirius usually refrained from consuming any, claiming that tea-drinking was a pastime that his and other aristocratic pureblood families indulged in, and he'd much rather not be reminded of them. Rather, he got his caffeine fix from various coffees, and fizzy muggle drinks. Truly, Sirius didn't hate tea, he was most likely attempting to rebel against his upbringing. Remus had a faint memory of him drinking some rather cheap jasmine tea, no doubt bought at a Chinese muggle emporium.
Peter was different, however. He really did detest all three beverages, claiming the tea too sour or bitter, the coffee too strong, and the soda too acidic. Once, during a drunken celebration, they had persuaded Peter to drink a Dr. Pepper. Approximately thirty seconds after poor Wormtail had downed the drink, he vomited all over the pricey Persian carpeting. Peter could not control his stomach until perhaps, seven in the morning, upon which he passed out. James and Sirius never forced Peter drink or eat anything after that, drunk or not.
As the clock struck four, Remus was brought back to the present. He sat at the kitchen table, with an empty cup and a sealed tin of L'Epicier's finest Daruma that Dumbledore had sent over. It wasn't oddly flavored, he just didn't have the heart to open it.
