"Boyle the batte wings gentlie in the essence of toade vomit... "
Her hand, shaking slightly, moved to straighten the scroll as she
scanned the archaic and faded writing one last time. So much depended
on this that she could not afford to make the slightest slip. Failure
was simply too awful to contemplate.
Now to add the final ingredient, and the one that had caused her the
most trouble. But once she had remembered what still lurked in the
Forbidden Forest, the rest had been relatively easy; attacking Grawp
with a confundus charm, she had persuaded him to pull out his own
toe-nail so as to join her in a game of tiddley-winks. Only a
half-giant, of course, but surely that would do?
Carefully, she lowered the toe-hail into the seething cauldron, and as
she did so the liquid turned a lurid green and boiled over...
* * * * *
He looked around him, carefully surveying the assembled throng: so many faces, and some he barely knew. And what on earth had possessed all the Aurors to come dressed as pumpkins? And that young woman, Tonks, in particular, displaying so much of her bare arms and legs through the holes in her pumpkin - most unseemly. Clearly it had been a great mistake for young Weasley, enthusiastic as he was, to be set in charge of the arrangements... He looked down suddenly, as a familiar voice spoke at his elbow. "Do try some of this fruit cup" she said, smiling what she thought was a winsome smile, "most delicious, and not at all intoxicating." "Oh, er, yes... thank you" he replied distractedly, his attention fixed on the other side of the room where Kingsley Shacklebolt was weaving his way determinedly through the guests, and clearly heading in his direction - the last man he wanted to speak to at the moment. He looked down, and found he was holding a glass of some kind of cordial - such a peculiar shade of green, he reflected, and an even more peculiar smell. Tentatively, he raised it to his lips and took the merest sip. Suddenly, his expression lightened, and he downed the rest at a gulp. Turning slightly, he saw the woman still standing at his elbow. Why had he never noticed before how beautiful she was? Bending down, he placed a tentative and awkward kiss on those gorgeous, pouting lips, then with increasing confidence another, and another. Yes, this was it. For so many years it had passed him by, but this was the real thing. In Dolores Umbridge he, Cornelius Fudge, had at last found true love.
[A/N: J.K. Rowling's copyright of all characters is acknowledged. My thanks to AgiVega, but for whose challenge this would certainly never have been written, nor, having been written, posted. So all complaints to her,not me please.]
* * * * *
He looked around him, carefully surveying the assembled throng: so many faces, and some he barely knew. And what on earth had possessed all the Aurors to come dressed as pumpkins? And that young woman, Tonks, in particular, displaying so much of her bare arms and legs through the holes in her pumpkin - most unseemly. Clearly it had been a great mistake for young Weasley, enthusiastic as he was, to be set in charge of the arrangements... He looked down suddenly, as a familiar voice spoke at his elbow. "Do try some of this fruit cup" she said, smiling what she thought was a winsome smile, "most delicious, and not at all intoxicating." "Oh, er, yes... thank you" he replied distractedly, his attention fixed on the other side of the room where Kingsley Shacklebolt was weaving his way determinedly through the guests, and clearly heading in his direction - the last man he wanted to speak to at the moment. He looked down, and found he was holding a glass of some kind of cordial - such a peculiar shade of green, he reflected, and an even more peculiar smell. Tentatively, he raised it to his lips and took the merest sip. Suddenly, his expression lightened, and he downed the rest at a gulp. Turning slightly, he saw the woman still standing at his elbow. Why had he never noticed before how beautiful she was? Bending down, he placed a tentative and awkward kiss on those gorgeous, pouting lips, then with increasing confidence another, and another. Yes, this was it. For so many years it had passed him by, but this was the real thing. In Dolores Umbridge he, Cornelius Fudge, had at last found true love.
[A/N: J.K. Rowling's copyright of all characters is acknowledged. My thanks to AgiVega, but for whose challenge this would certainly never have been written, nor, having been written, posted. So all complaints to her,not me please.]