AN: So after watching Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, I got talking to Min about daily lives of various witches and wizards, and this popped into my head.
This is just going to be a collection of snippets about the daily lives of various witches and/or wizards in various places (most likely in/around Australia or New Zealand). No grand adventures. Just slices of life.
WARNING: Metric fucktonnes of swearing ahead.
Disclaimer:
I own nothing you recognise. This is all completely un-beta'd and totally fresh off the top of my brain!
The Imperial March starts up and Sam glares down at her cellphone. It's Rick. She answers.
"Why the fuck didn't you just floo? The phones for the fucking Muggos," she rasps out.
Rick is sheepish when he replies: "I broke my floo."
The heat must be addling her brain, Sam thinks, because it takes her a few minutes to realise what he's actually saying. "You did what," she says.
"I broke my floo," Rick whines.
"How the shit did you do that," she says. She swings herself out of her hammock, nearly spilling her beer everywhere, and stalks into the frankly boiling interior of her house in rural Sydney (despite every door and window being wide open).
"There was a Harry Huntsman," he explains. "It crawled onto the fireplace and it just … happened?" Sam stops frowning.
"Big bastard was it?"
"Yes."
"Say no more, I'll be over in a jiffy." She crams her phone into the back pocket of her shorts, pulls her wand out from its hip-holster, and apparates. Rick is waiting for her on the porch, a big brawny man with his fingers twisting together and a blush staining his cheeks.
"I'm sorry to call you on your day off," he begins. "But it was a really big one and you know how it goes." Sam nods and pats him on the arm, which is about as high as she can comfortably reach for patting. Some of the exterior still has holes in it.
"I'll just fix these up, then we'll see to your floo," she says, raising her wand to set the exterior cladding to rights. A piece of sandstone soars in from at least a hundred metres away to nestle itself into the wall. She raises an eyebrow at Rick, who goes an even brighter red and shuffles his feet.
"It was bigger than my crock pot," he mumbles. Sam's lips twitch and she nods, turning back to the repairs. There aren't that many. Rick's usually pretty onto it with repairing the damage after murdering Huntsmen.
"Okay, let's see what we can do about this floo, then," she says and follows Rick into his slightly less sweltering house. He'd had the bright idea to get air con installed a couple of years back, so his lounge is blissfully cool. It's a nice change. She hums and haws over the fireplace for a few minutes, tapping the mantle and poking at the embers with the tip of her wand. "Shit you must have blown the whole thing to bits, mate," she says finally. He coughs awkwardly behind her. She flicks her wand again. Grabs a handful of floo powder and throws it into the coals. "Dennis' house," she says clearly, and throws her phone through. A second later, Dennis' head pops through.
"The fuck is this shit?" he says, waving her phone in front of her.
"Cheers mate, had to test the floo here at Rick's," she says as she plucks her phone from his flailing hand. "You can fuckoff now oy." Dennis flips her the bird and does exactly that. The fire disappears. "Can we fix it? Yes we can!" she crows, throwing her hands up in the air.
"Thanks, Sam," Rick says.
"Not a problem. Maybe try the barrier catch method next time, instead of the blow it away one?" Rick shrugs.
"I just panic."
"I don't fucking blame you, mate."
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