Porlyusica looked up irritably as three rapid knocks sounded at her door. Honestly, it was ten in the morning - how could one possibly get hurt that quickly?
She hobbled crankily over and threw open the door, questioning harshly, "What is it now?"
A tall, half-naked boy stood awkwardly in front of her, rubbing the back of his neck.
Porlyusica sighed, mildly relieved. Gray Fullbuster - one of the less rowdy ones, thankfully. And he barely talked while she worked on him, a blessing in itself.
Gray shifted his feet, clearly uncomfortable. "Uh, I…"
"Spit it out, boy," she demanded. However quiet or calm Gray might be, she had no intention of letting him stand there like a stone statue and waste all her time. "I don't have all day!"
"Master said he'd had enough of me and to come to you," he mumbled, blushing. "The thing is, I've been feeling… uh, kind of ill. I think someone cast a spell on me."
She arched an eyebrow skeptically. "Spell?"
"Yes." Gray cleared his throat and continued, more confidently this time, "I - I've been feeling really… well, weird is the only word, when I see this certain person. My stomach drops like I'm riding a roller coaster, and I want to slap him and be near him all at the same time. I start feeling sick, and my palms sweat whenever he even looks at me. I think he cast a spell on me. He used to be a dark mage," he added, wringing his hands. "Maybe he hasn't changed as much as Erza likes to believe."
Porlyusica stared at Gray, a sinking feeling in her stomach.
Damn emotionally constipated kids.
Just yesterday - yesterday! - had a very similar case shown up at her doorstep. Jellal Fernandes, the Earthland version of Prince Mystogan, had come to her, referred by Makarov (that asshole, she thought venomously), and talked about feeling dizzy and strange when he saw a certain person. Why, oh why, did her old 'friend' - she used the term loosely - think it was a good idea to send lovestruck idiots her way?!
"And who might this man be to have… enchanted you in such a manner?" she questioned carefully.
Gray looked away, turning pink, and murmured, "His name's Jellal Fernandes. The guild master of the Crimé Sorciére guild."
I should have known! That Jellal ranted about the person having 'blue eyes I can't look away from' and 'black hair that I want to just keep touching. Do I want to pull it, or what?'.
Porlyusica frowned, mind racing as to how exactly to get this boy off her porch. If she bluntly told him he was in love, he'd recoil and run off. Then Makarov would send him back to her, and more unnecessary drama would ensue.
She looked absently around her room, still wracking her brains for an idea. Her eyes fell on a snowglobe, the plastic snowman in the midst of it perfectly still.
But of course!
A half-baked plan formed in her mind, and she grinned.
"Uh, Porlyusica?" Gray asked, snapping her back to reality. "So… do you have some kind of voodoo medicine for my thing?"
A tic appeared on her forehead.
Voodoo medicine indeed! I'll show you voodoo, ya damn brat!
"Actually, I do." Porlyusica gestured to him to follow her, walking to the shelf where the snowglobe was kept, and turned her back to him, a wicked smile on her face. She reached for the globe, grasping it in thin fingers, and wheeled back around to face Gray.
"A snowglobe?" Gray got out in his confusion. "How is that-"
"Seal of Eros!" cried Porlyusica.
And the next minute, Gray was gone.
Porlyusica placed the snowglobe down on her table and cackled madly. Then, she walked out of the room, ignoring the shouts of, "LET ME OUT, YOU GODDAMN BITCH!" issuing from the now-shrunken Ice-Make Wizard trapped in the globe.
Jellal shot up as his lacrima vibrated, reaching for the device and putting it to his ear. "Hello? Porlyusica?" he asked anxiously. "Have you found a cure yet?"
"That's why I'm calling," the old lady said irritably. "Get your damn blueberry ass over here within the next three hours or you won't be receiving any cure,"
Jellal shouted a "Yes, ma'am," into the device, slammed it down and raced out of his house, not bothering to change. It was only when he'd already jumped onto a train (having received strange looks all the way) that he realised he was still in his bunny onesie.
Oh well. Nothing to be done about it now. Even though it was embarrassingly pink. And sported a fluffy tail.
He really should have taken the time to change his clothes, he thought with a resigned sigh.
Jellal got off the train when it reached Magnolia, about forty-five minutes later. He made a beeline for Porlyusica's hut on the outskirts of the city. When he finally stopped in front of the cottage, panting and huffing from having run half the way, his face was so red that his tattoo had practically vanished.
He collected himself and raised one hand to knock on the door, rapping smartly on the wood. Porlyusica opened it, grumpy as always.
"Oh, you're here," she commented flatly. "Well, come in."
Jellal cleared his throat and stepped into the small hut. "So?" he asked, spreading his hands. "Can I have it now?"
Porlyusica gave a shark-like smile. Jellal gulped despite himself - this woman was scary.
"I'm getting to it," she said sweetly, and reached for a snowglobe on the table. Jellal frowned as he studied the globe, noticing that instead of a plastic snowman was a little jumping figure that had a dark blue mark on its - half-naked chest?!
Is that… is that...
Jellal suddenly had a sinking feeling about this supposed 'cure'.
"I think I'll be going now, I feel better," he lied and attempted to slip past Porlyusica, making for the door. But the old woman was too sharp for that.
"Not so fast," she cackled, bony fingers wrapping tightly around Jellal's wrist. He yanked at the hand, but her grip was so strong that he couldn't break it.
"Seal of Eros!" she called out.
"What the-" was the last thing Jellal got out before he found himself sprawled on the floor.
A dome had popped up from nowhere, and white flakes were raining down on him, settling on his shoulders and in the folds of his cloak. He stared at himself in surprise - when had he changed his clothes?!
And in front of him stood the very thing he suspected of his new sickness, glaring with his arms crossed over his bare chest.
Jellal did the only thing he could do.
He choked.