Conjuring up some grub


The end of war didn't agree with Ron.

It was great in the beginning; he and the know-it-all had finally gotten together. She was a great lay, and the redhead had filled his brain with fantasies of the future. Nine kids, a stay at home wife who would spread her legs whenever he asked – Mudbloods like her are all sluts right? – and a great career playing keeper for the cannons.

It was all coming together.

Well, it was until he told his future plans to his girlfriend.

She was not so enthused. Apparently she only wanted one or two kids. Something about not wanting to be a baby factory. That pissed him off. Then she said she wanted a career. Spell creation? Who the fuck wants a woman making up spells? All they're good for is cooking and cleaning charms! That really got him pissed. Then she laughed when he mentioned the cannons. LAUGHED! Let's see if she's still laughing after a punch to the gut!


Hitting her probably wasn't the best of his ideas.

He lost all of his friends that day. Hermione quickly ran away after the punch; Ratting him out to the aurors. Harry was first on scene and he gave back Ron's abuse ten-fold.

…Acting fully within the law of course.

After a night in a ministry holding cell, Ron was given a five hundred galleon fine – a fine he couldn't possibly pay – and was sent home. Not even his family wanted anything to do with him. Molly looked at him in a way that made him feel like he wasn't worthy to be called her son. Ginny went out of her way to bother him in any way possible. A box of spiders dropped on top of him in the middle of the night. Time release shrinking solutions poured on his underwear. Hell, the bitch even burned his entire chocolate frog collection.

Feeling a sudden urge to move out and to start his adult life, he announced at dinner one night that he was leaving. Everyone at the table gave a relieved sigh; Ron, the idiot that he is, thought it was a sad sigh. They were gonna miss him!

Arthur was quick to send him on his way with a small bag of galleons and magical tent.

When Ron walked out the front door he looked back to see that no-one was waving back. They were all probably weeping all over each other in the sitting room; reminiscing about the good 'ol days with their youngest boy.


Tryouts for the cannons were that day, and Ron was barely able to contain his excitement. With what was left of his money, Ron apparated to Diagon Ally for breakfast at the cauldron. He emptied his change purse onto the table and counted out to see what he could afford.

A couple of witches walked by and laughed at his current money stock. Ron thought they were tittering about how handsome he was.

Using his fingers to leaf through his coinage he counted out 6 sickles and 44 knuts. It's okay, he was going to get a big signing bonus pretty quickly when the cannons started falling over themselves to get him on the team. With what he had on hand he was able to afford a few slices of toast and a couple eggs.

Merlin, food was a lot easier to come by when you were living at home...


He did a few laps after his tryout. He was obviously the best there. That stupid yank was his biggest competition and he had never even played quiddich before. Who in their right mind plays that stupid american knock off game? Pretty good for an amateur though.

Ron had grown up playing the game, he'd played two years at Hogwarts winning two quiddich cups. He was clearly the favorite.

Plus, who would want some Negro on their team?

As he swept down for a landing, he spotted the coaches and scouts heatedly discussing their picks.

He grinned as they called him over and asked to meet them in the front office.

He was so in.


"Well we liked what we saw out there Mr. Weasley," the head scout said, "It was definitely down to you and Shaun."

Ron nodded and rubbed his hands together in glee. "Thank you sir, I've always wanted to play for the cannons. I've been dreaming of this day since forever. When I was six--"

Ron was suddenly interrupted. "I'm sorry Mr. Weasley, but we decided to go the other way." the coach said.

"What?!" Ron replied completely stunned.

"We felt that Shaun gives us a better chance to win, now and in the future. You see, we know you're experienced and you clearly know the game, but right now we're looking to the future. You've nearly peaked in your abilities as a keeper, but this was Shaun's first time playing quiddich and he was nearly at your level. Imagine how good he'll be in a year or two..." The older man said, trailing off.

"But sir, I don't think I've peaked, I mean, I only played two years as the starting keeper at Hogwarts, I think I have a lot I can still learn to do!" he pleaded.

"Well, you see the thing is – to be quite honest with you – this wasn't purely a quiddich decision. We here at the Cannons organization pride ourselves on having quality people, even at the expense of talent, and frankly we are worried about your past."

"My past? I helped Harry defeat You-Know-Who! How could that possibly make me a bad person?!" Ron said, starting to get angry.

"It has nothing to do with the war Mr. Weasley, it has to do with your problems with the law. It says in your file that less than a month ago you were arrested for a domestic assault. Is that not true?"

Ron was getting very angry now, "That bitch deserved everything she got!"

"Well I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. This interview is over."

Not one to leave a bridge intact, Ron shot out, "You think that stupid nigger out there is 'quality'?! He probably has ten children and kills people in his gang! How does that make you 'quality'?!"

"Get out now, or I will have security escort you out!"


Ron was in bad shape: He'd lost his girlfriend, he had no friends, his family would never take him back, even if he got past his pride and asked for help, his quiddich career was over before it had even began, and now all he had left to his name was a shitty broom, a tattered old tent, and 24 knuts.

And he was fucking starving!

So much for a meal at the cauldron! He couldn't even afford a bottle of fire-whisky to numb his emotional turmoil.

If he could just conjure up some grub or something… wait, conjure up some food, he could bloody well do that! He kissed his wand and then sat still for a moment wondering what he wanted to eat. Bacon! Shepard's Pie! Pumpkin juice!

With a flick of a wand, Ron had a table full of delicious looking food.

And he ate.


Four months passed by slowly

Life was hard when you were unemployed with no prospects. The odd person dropped a sickle or two into his jar, and that allowed him to buy the necessities: Chocolate frogs, the odd bit of tail from a galleon whore, and a subscription to the Daily Prophet.

He could conjure up a chocolate frog, but he couldn't get the damn thing to move without the proper charm, so where's the fun in that? Plus, he needed to replace his card collection.

The whore was clearly needed, given that has hand just didn't do a good enough job. He didn't even mind the missing teeth or the old sagging body because he was so quick at getting off they were normally willing to give a discount. It kinda hurts to pee nowadays though…

The Prophet was also needed. He needed to keep up on his traitorous friends. Most of them were celebrities in their own right.

Hermione had made a Arithmantic discovery which lead her to a develop a new type of shield. A shield that could block the unforgiveables. The cunt! Make be breakfast wench!

Harry was making weekly busts on 'repentant' Death-Eaters and their supporters. Four department heads and half of the wizengamot were now enjoying their cells in Azkaban. Not to mention the fact that Fudge was now sharing a cellblock with his undersecretary; the very same one that Sirius enjoyed twelve years in. Fucking showoff!

Even Loony Lovegood was in the bloody paper! A Crumple-Horned Snorkack?! Who gives a fuck about them having the ability to transfer magic to squibs and muggles? I'm bloody homeless!

He flipped the page to the sports section and checked out the quiddich section. His former favorite team finished the regular season on a twelve game winning streak behind their rookie-of-the-year: Shaun fucking Smith! Bastard was even chosen to represent Britain in this year's quiddich world cup, and he was two votes short of league most valuable player! Fuck!

At that moment Ron collapsed to the floor clutching his abdomen, screaming in pain.


Conjuration is great for making temporary things. The average wizard can make a table and chair set that will last a week or two, but no matter how powerful the wizard the conjured item will always eventually disappear.

Dumbledore reportedly conjured a tea set for his N.E.W.T.S that lasted over a decade.

Ron, despite all his other faults, was actually a rather powerful wizard. The food he conjured would last anywhere between three to seven months. Four months had now passed since his first foray into food conjuration.

Food is one of the 5 exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfigurations. They say that you can't conjure food. You can, it just doesn't last. They say you can't so that you are not tempted to do what Ron did.

You see, when food enters the body, it is digested and then spread through the body. The body may burn some of it off. Some might get wasted and leave out the back door, and some becomes part of the body. Some might become something minor like skin or hair, while some might become part of a vital organ like the liver, perhaps a blood vessel, bones, or in Ron's case: All of the above. When the magic holding the conjuration disappeared so did everything it eventually became, blood, guts and all.

If Ron had listened when Professor McGonagall ranted for over an hour about why conjuring food was a bad idea, he probably wouldn't be dying in agony.

But then again, wizards are stupid.


AN: I see it all the time in fics where harry or someone is desperate for food and decides to conjure some.

There has to be some laws governing the universe, and I don't think that energy can be created from nothing. I see wizards getting their magic from their bodies; they eat food, and their magic comes from their cores. You can't create something from magic and then live off it, that would be making something out of nothing. Perpetual motion is bullshit in both the magical and the muggle world.

When Sirius was on the run he ate rats, why not conjure some food? I'm sure he got a wand at some point…

Thanks for watching folks!


(AN: March 22, 2010)

A reviewer (DeliaDee) mentioned the 5 exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfigurations, so sorta hand-waved that in.

She also mentioned that food doesn't become part of the organs.

I did some research, and found that the liver regenerates, so that would in theory disappear. The skin also continues to grow. That disappearing would be unpleasant ;)

-Lineape