- Day 66 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Tongue-Tied

- The Emotion Challenge: Confused

- The Restricted Section Challenge: Shelf 3 - (restriction) write a story without using the word 'it'

- Pocket Morty Competition: Spork Morty - Write about someone finding a spork for the first time

Pairings/Characters: Walburga, Sirius, Regulus

Word Count: 411


The Spork

Ah, the combination of the world's two most dangerous objects, time and money

Sirius pouted as he looked down at the plate of chicken salad that Walburga had presented. Their most recent House Elf was recently deceased, and little Kreacher was too young to serve up food just yet—so that job had been handed to Walburga whilst they waited for a suitable elf to come work for the family.

Unfortunately, Walburga wasn't gifted in the kitchen. Plain chicken and washed salad was as good as the family were going to get.

Regulus was scooping mouthfuls of salad down, holding a book in his free hand. Sirius didn't know whether he was actually enjoying the boring meal, or whether he was so immersed in his book that he wasn't actually tasting what he was putting in his mouth. Orion, on the other hand, looked less than happy about what had been served, but he was chewing through the lettuce leaves silently. He knew better than to aggravate his wife when she had sharp cutlery on hand.

"Sirius, stop sulking and eat your salad!" Walburga snapped, tapping a pointed black fingernail on the dinner table sharply. Sirius refrained the urge to roll his eyes and picked up his fork—no, his spoon.

"What the hell is this?" Sirius held up the object which he had thought was a fork, then a spoon, and now he was just confused. The silver piece of cutlery had the bowl of a spoon, but the tip was adorned with narrow spikes.

"A spork," Regulus muttered, not looking up from his book. Sirius stared over at the top of Regulus's head, which was all that was visible.

"A what?" Sirius and Walburga both exclaimed at the same time. Sirius watched his mother observing her own spork, wondering if Regulus had gotten tongue-tied when telling Sirius what it was. "Stop talking nonsense, Regulus," Walburga added, though she spoke in a much more softer tone when addressing her younger son.

Regulus put his book down. "No, honestly. A cross between a fork and a spoon. Spork."

Walburga continued to glare at her youngest son, but she didn't object. However, when Sirius opened his mouth to counter Regulus, she spoke. "Sirius, you will eat that salad with your spork, or so help me God..."

As her voice tailed off, Sirius looked down at his spork, sniggering. "Spork," he muttered, rolling the word around in his mouth. What a stupid word.