The Thing About Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans
AN:
Oni: Happy Thanksgiving y'all! So I'm a little behind schedule, what with the holiday and family activities happening, but I'm still chugging away. Hopefully I can catch up.
Tom: Oni does not own the Harry Potter franchise.
Oni: Aaaaand ONWARDS!
So the last chapter was something rather strange, but then again, strangeness is what makes things interesting. Don't you agree? Unpredictability is what drives a crackfic such as this. Every out-of-the-blue idea thrown at the reader can make you laugh at the sheer obscurity, the ridiculousness, the randomness. But not all randomness is good, and sometimes it's hard to find the perfect morsel of insanity that doesn't seem too random lest it errs in the side of stupid.
Sometimes though, you just have to pick and hope that people like it.
On that subject, this chapter's rant is on Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. I know, weird right? But there's a few things that have always irked me about the magical treat. First of all, what is it that constitutes as 'Every Flavor'? Is it just what the taster would consider a flavor or is it anything that has a taste? In that case, there are a lot of 'flavors' that would be just plain disgusting. Think about it, if there is 'Every Flavor', the amount of relatively palatable flavors is greatly outweighed by ones that are just plain gross. It's like Taste Russian Roulette except there's four bullets in the six round chamber instead of just one.
There will be at least a few people who consecutively and constantly get bad beans through sheer probability.
Secondly, how does the taster even know the flavors of the grosser ones? When Dumbledore answers 'Alas, Earwax' does that mean he inherently knew the taste of earwax or had he eaten earwax before? Is there magic imbued within the bean that tells the person eating it what flavor it is? Perhaps this is why wizards can relate so many different flavors without ever having eaten the real thing - they've just had the bloody bean. So if someone gets really specific on what something tastes like, chances are they've had the famous candy to give them a sensory library large enough to encompass things that should never be ingested.
But I suppose that the thrill of the vast amount of flavors is what keeps people coming back to the sweet. You just take a bean and hope you get a good one. Maybe this one won't be Sand or Pre-Treated Leather or the dreaded Unwashed Dingy Motel Carpet.
Eeeeeeugh.
Hah, but what do you care about such fictional sweets? It's not like the Muggle world has anything remotely close, not even the promotional ones that Jelly Belly and Universal Studios has. Not to the extent of every flavor. Perhaps the Muggle world simply isn't ready for that kind of thing yet. Besides, it's not like anyone would want disgusting flavors mass-produced. That's just bad for business unless it's a prank shop. Maybe the Weasley Twins would have made it big on the other side if they hid some of their more obviously magical wares.
This FSA (Fanfiction Service Announcement) is now over, so let's continue to our regularly scheduled story.
After her initial freak out, Myrtle warmed up to Esmeralda considerably. And by considerably Tom meant unusually quickly for the ten minutes that the two had known each other for. This worried Tom slightly, if only because he had to be a translator between the two (though thankfully Esmeralda understood English well enough for him to only have to interpret one way) and the subjects they were talking about quickly turned to him and his apparent lack of social skills (which he had!). Translating a conversation between two people (well, a girl and a snake) when they spoke about embarrassing things about you was mortifying to say the least, but neither conversationalist seemed to care about that.
The good thing that came out of this experience was that Myrtle no longer thought of Tom as a pervert and had agreed to keep Esmeralda's existence (or at least her location and the fact that she was a gigantic Basilisk) a secret. This did not stop her from talking about her in a roundabout way, mostly to tease Tom about the basilisk's grandmotherly personally.
"She's like your Fairy Snake Mom." The Ravenclaw girl giggled out as he led her to her next class to make sure she wasn't hexed.
It was nearly Christmas holidays (and by almost, he meant the cusp of November and December), and everyone was excited to get a break from all the schoolwork (mainly essays or exam studies for the O.W.L and N.E.W.T students).
"That's just horrible." was all Tom replied as he disabled a jinx that was set to make whoever passed the threshold grow their teeth indefinitely.
Tom had already signed up to stay at the castle and Myrtle had looked a little despondent that she wouldn't be able to meet him in London until the summer and had nearly decided to stay as well to be with her friend until the boy explained the importance of family (and how he would have loved to be in her shoes...alright so maybe he had played the orphan card a little harshly but it was a sore subject for him in his defense).
"Es-mom-ralda." Myrtle added, bumping into his arm playfully, her cheeks tinged pink from laughing.
There was also that little tidbit of Britain declaring war almost as soon as the school year had started (and hadn't he dodged a bullet with that?). While Myrtle and her family might not feel the effects, and orphanage like Wool's most certainly will. He didn't want to be around for that, no sirree.
"That's even worse." Tom shot back almost automatically, his own jinx hitting Fudge in the face before the bumbling idiot could cast his own.
With this shared secret, the younger girl had begun to behave at ease with him. She reminded him of a rabbit most days, hopping to and fro madly at the slightest movement, but flopping over as soon as safety was assured. Her floppy pigtails only solidified the image, as did the bounce in her step whenever she walked (well, skipped he supposed) beside him.
Hop, hop, hop.
"Oh like you could come up with any better." was Myrtle's chuckled retort before turning to face him (was it just him, or were her cheeks slightly pinker?) and mumbling, "Thank you for walking me to class again."
At this, Tom shrugged nonchalantly.
"I'm only a couple doors away anyway." he told her with a tilted head, "Besides, if I could stop at least on prank pulled on you, it's worth it, innit?"
Oh yeah, definitely pinking.
"T-true..." she squeaked out in a close imitation of Filius before bustling into class and leaving Tom confused on why she was acting like this.
Strolling into the Transfiguration classroom, he sat next to Minerva as usual. What wasn't usual was the expression his friend wore on her face, which looked as if she had tasted something particularly sour. Slightly worried, eyes turned to regard her.
"Minnie are you alright?"
"Fine." was the curt reply.
Tom didn't need to use his ability to know that was a lie, so he waited a couple of seconds for her to speak again.
"You're spending a lot of time with Myrtle recently, Tom."
"Really?" Tom asked genuinely as Professor Dumbledore arrived, "I hadn't noticed. Does that bother you?"
"N-no!" She squeaked out, and the Slytherin wondered if today was Talk-Like-Filius Day (with added stuttering and pinking cheeks!), "But I had hoped you would have joined us near the Lake today. It's not right for us just to catch up during class and study groups."
"Rolanda always gives me the death glare every time we see each other since I joined the Quidditch Team and the rest of the others bar you, Filius, and Pomona don't seem to like me very much." Tom pointed out for the millionth time, his dark eyes staring at the white rabbits that were deposited on their desk, "Besides, we take meals together as well."
Minerva seemed to sigh at that, knowing full well they'd just go around in circles. Silence stretched between them as the two star pupils dutifully focused on the lesson until it was time to practice turning the rabbits into a pair of slippers. The Scottish lass rolled up her sleeves, but before she could even attempt the incantation she was stopped by Tom, who picked up each rabbit individually and held it to his ear.
"What are you doing?" she asked incredulously as Tom did the same for her rabbits.
"I'm making sure none of them are the White Rabbit." he replied in full seriousness.
"But they're all white rabbits." Minerva answered confusedly.
"Not just white rabbits," Tom stressed as he lifted the last wriggling bunny to his ear and listened closely, "The White Rabbit. The one that knows the way to Wonderland. It would be a shame if something were to happen to him, you know?"
"Oh..." Minerva answered with a quirk of her lips, "Well what do you think?"
"They're just regular rabbits." was his conclusion, "But you're more than welcome to check."
"And how do I do that?" she asked in half amusement and half curiosity.
"Hold each one up to your ear and listen to see if any of them start talking."
From his place at the teacher's desk, Albus Dumbledore smiled at the antics of the two brightest students in his class as he watched his lion cub lift the fluffy creature to her ear and tried very hard to listen for something akin to speech. It was an interesting lesson.
Despite this delay, the two of them were still the first to correctly complete the transfiguration.
"So you're staying over the hols then, Mona?"
"Ah, y-yes!" Pomona answered to the only person outside the Musketeers allowed to call her that, her usual rosy face moreso today, "I recently found out that wild Moly is best harvested at around Christmastime for the best effects, so I've decided to stay and scour the forest to see if I can find some."
In the background, Professor Binns droned on about the second goblin war. Crabbe and Goyle were both out cold, snoring loudly from their desks and making everyone sitting around them scoot a couple of inches away from their sheer stench. Malfoy was making disgusted faces as he and Lestrange played hangwizard (the drawing animates itself and the man forming always has a look of panic if he's nearing his inevitable end). As for the other Hufflepuffs, they were sitting around chatting. Everyone knew Binns' lectures were easier read than listened to.
Pomona fidgeted a little as her cheeks reddened more.
"Hey Tom..." the Hufflepuff girl began, "W-would you mind helping me look for the flowers over the holidays?"
Finishing his drawing of a snake twisting inside a skull (which also moved because magical ink was amazing), the dark haired boy turned to smile at her friend. They'd have to go to the Forbidden Forest to get the flowers anyway, and any excuse to go exploring there was a great one to Tom. Besides, if anyone knew plants, it would be Pomona.
"Sure!" he answered brightly, and the Hufflepuff girl looked as if he had just told her that it was her birthday (well, it was her unbirthday, so maybe that was it?).
It appeared like Pomona was the only one of the Musketeers that was staying, as seen by Filius' excited meet-you-later wave that required him to flail his arm up above his head in a manner that would be weird for someone of regular size but fit the half-goblin well. Minerva herself was returning to her magical farm in the countryside, and had cast an odd look at a rather smug Pomona. The exchange was rather confusing, but it seemed to be an inside reference that he wasn't privy to so he let it drop. Myrtle cried before hugging him goodbye (but she did that usually, though she had been getting better) and Tom told her to stay safe while on holidays.
Unlike the holidays prior, Tom now had a friend to spend his time with. One that didn't like leaving him to his own devices. Granted, it was nice to spend time with someone around his age over the break, but it meant that he couldn't visit Esmeralda unless he revealed to her the Basilisk's true nature (which was something that Tom wanted to show them as a group.. hopefully soon because Myrtle already knew). He managed to sneak in some visits at night though, which the serpent both appreciated and admonished him for, claiming that he should be spending more time with his human friends.
As promised, he accompanied Pomona into the Forest to search for Moly flowers on the morning of Christmas Eve. It had been a rather fun experience, picking the black stemmed blue flowers that reminded him of Forget-Me-Nots alongside a happier-than-usual Pomona Sprout. He needed to brush up on his plant-based humor, but the Hufflepuff seemed to take it all in stride and laughed hard at every single one (she didn't even look like she was faking, but honestly his jokes were so bad she had to be). With satchels full of flowers Tom and Pomona returned to the castle, unaware that a pair of twinkling blue eyes were watching from the window.
The next day contained an abundance of joy as everyone rushed down the stairs with their presents. Admittedly Tom had been a little more creative with his gifts, tweaking the items with a bit of fancy wandwork. It seemed his friends had similar ideas as well.
To each of his friends Tom had given a mechanical animal. Filius got another canary to add to the first, Minerva was given a tabby cat, Pomona got a chipmunk, and Myrtle got a white rabbit in a waistcoat with a pocket watch. Tom himself had a snake that strongly resembled Oscar. Each animal was linked to one another, and were created to be used as communication devices similar to telephone, though only Tom had the ability to contact the rest, having the 'master' phone. The others could only reach the snake and not each other, though Tom had attempted it to be the latter, he simply didn't have the knowledge to do so as the only reason the snake could connect to the other ones was because he nitpicked the snake-speech activations that the entrance to the Chamber used and reverse engineered the effects.
Dumbledore got a packet of cola gummies, to which his favorite Professor took to though the man admitted to liking the lemon drops more (with a wink).
On the flip side, Filius decided to go with something with a sense of humor because his present was a model bluebird that exploded into feathers when chucked at something before reforming on the perch. Minerva had gotten him a pocket watch that transfigured itself into a white rabbit that would start shouting 'You're late! You're late!' if he was behind schedule. Pomona had decided to give him his present in person, which comprised of a glass phial with a potion that she had brewed with the Molys they had picked the day before, intended to protect one from Dark Arts (which included not only curses but jinxes and hexes as well).
Myrtle had gone for something more subdued, choosing instead to give him a black leather bound journal ("So that you can remember all those ideas you prattle on about", she had written) with his full name embossed in gold lettering. How her parents even allowed her to get such a present to someone who was clearly a male friend, he wasn't sure. That is, until he flipped open the cover and a neatly folded piece of paper fell out. The message it conveyed was also rather straightforward.
TOUCH HER WITH MORE THAN A HUG AND YOU DIE.
That was probably from her father.
P.S. We'd love to see a picture of you!
Aaaaand that was probably her mother.
The rest of the day was spent on snowball fights and Christmas crackers, and sitting by the fires in the Slytherin Common Room (which Tom had sneaked her into, being the only one in his house that had stayed behind). While the dungeons rather drafty, Tom didn't really feel all that cold, but Pomona insisted on sitting close to him for warmth. Odd, but who was he to judge? He always did have a knack for strange things.
Soon enough the holidays were over and the rest of the student population returned. Minerva, Filius, and Myrtle all seemed rather excited at the prospect of what Tom's gifts could do and were looking forward to using them. The AniPhones turned out to be incredibly useful, even if they could only contact Tom through it. Oddly enough, the girls seemed rather elated with the prospect, though outside the convenience factor the orphan couldn't fathom as to why.
When classes started up again, Pomona's potion was put to good use as Hornby and Fudge retuned full force with their cruel pranking, nullifying some dangerous spells that could have cost Tom some serious class time (like a hex to make one's feet turn into gerbils). It was also funny to look at the faces of those idiots once they noticed that their spells didn't work, and even funnier to watch their reactions when they got revenge pranked. Malfoy and Lestrange, who had been watching Tom get more... creative... with his pranks seemed to avoid contact with him as much as possible, and that suited him just fine.
His worry was a little more closer to home.
Specifically the odd behavior of some of his close friends. While he had noticed the oddities before, now they were so obvious they couldn't be ignored. Being closer to exams, Minerva, Pomona, and Myrtle had each asked to study with him. Deciding to make good use of his time, he invited all three to a group study session alongside Filius. The resulting meeting had a tense undertone, though for what reason he couldn't pinpoint, though he did notice it was between the girls. Filius appeared unaffected by... whatever this was, although he did seem to give an almost exasperated look to Pomona and Minerva whenever one of them asked a question that they already knew the answer to. Myrtle had then smiled sweetly and started talking about Esmeralda (omitting any indication of her snakeyness). Things went downhill from there and after an hour of this passive aggressive standoff the girls left in a huff, leaving a bewildered Tom and an amused Filius to study alone.
Why did he end up with the weird drama?
Spells flew in wild abandon as the two top duelists in the club duked it out, Professor Merrythought watching the stage as a judge. Exams over, and this was the final meet of the Dueling Club before everyone went home for the summer.
"Hey Filius." Tom spoke up as he cast a freezing charm at the half-goblin's feet.
"What is it, Tom?" Filius answered as he side stepped the spell and threw a deep purple hex in the muggleborn's direction.
"Minnie, Myrtle, and 'Mona have been acting strangely recently." the dark eyed boy replied, sidestepping the spell (and its intended rebound) easily and made lighting strike at his opponent's heels "And by recent I mean before, during, and after Christmas. I know I haven't known Myrtle for all that long but still... they've been, er, out of character recently."
"You're growing, Tom." Filius said cryptically as he danced around the crackling lightning and snapped off a body bind hex, "Soon you will have more like that to deal with, and who knows? Maybe one day you'll know why."
"...What?" was all Tom could come up with.
He narrowly missed the petrification spell, flinging a bright pink spell that caused the short Ravenclaw to dance the flamingo in his incredulity as the boy had been distracted by laughing at the look on the muggleborn's face. The duel ended with Tom casting Expelliarmus and catching the still-cackling boy's wand. Professor Merrythought blew her whistle and proclaimed Tom the winner, the other members of the club congratulating both duelists on their performance. As the two made their way to the Great Hall, Filius slowed in his laughter enough to answer.
"You know, for someone who's usually so perceptive of the world around him, you really are blind to this aren't you?" he spoke between sporadic bouts of chuckles.
"Blind to what?" Tom asked confused.
"One day, Tom." Filius answered with a shake of his head, "One day you'll know. I want to be there to see it when it happens, though. I'm sure it'll be priceless."
With that unhelpful snippet being the only thing he got from the boy, Tom shrugged helplessly. He'll find a way to figure out whatever was going on and make sure the girls were alright. It wasn't good to see them so tense. They were his friends after all, and friends looked after one another even if they were acting odd and accosting you at random times in the halls asking to study with you and clamming up as soon as you smile or compliment them.
Summer was interesting, and by interesting Tom meant horrid. The muggle side of the world was in full blown war mode, which meant rationed food and the constant threat of being attacked by the enemy. It was a good thing he had made those animal-phones after all, as a regular post owl would not have fared well in skies that were being watched for strange happenings.
For most of the summer the orphan spend his time in his room reading his books, training his snakes, talking to his friends, or doing homework. Sometimes he would venture out to the bakery to get something to eat - Mrs. Rosewood apparently catered more to magical folk hence why she wasn't affected by the food rationing, or visit Mr. Burke who had no idea wha5 was happening in the Muggle world (not that he wanted to, the man was incredibly dismissive of those without magic or magical blood, how he liked Tom at all was beyond the boy's understanding of the shady shop owner).
He did manage to find a rather pretty locket with an S on it that on the other part of the store, the part with all the cursed knick-knacks. It was something that the boy would have initially overlooked if it weren't for the fact that the magic surrounding it was very... familiar. When he had picked it up, it felt like he was holding something very dear. Mr. Burke was initially rather hard pressed to give it to Tom, explaining how the necklace (Slytherin's Locket) was priceless until the boy explained the odd feeling attached to it. Paling, Mr. Burke allowed him to purchase it (thank goodness his investments were doing so well that he could afford such things...) and Tom happily left the store with the locket (which felt...happy) dangling from his neck beneath his shirt.
That night he dreamt of wayward eyes and a woman's scratchy voice singing a lullaby.
On another note, his female friends had gone back to their casual behavior, probably because each conversation was one on one instead of a group. With the Musketeers he discussed the upcoming elective classes, and which ones each would take. Minerva had wanted to attempt every single class (which was something not even Filius had decided to try), but the others seemed to focus more on arthimancy, care of magical creatures, and runes.
Soon enough (though not as soon as he had hoped) Tom was once again boarding the scarlet steam train back home. Having come early again, the boy scoured the compartments in the back (which were larger than the ones at the front) for something that might fit the growing number of people riding with him.
Opening up a compartment, Tom found himself faced with a large black wall. A wall that was breathing and made of cloth and oh that's not a wall at all wide dark eyes looked up, way up, and realized that the wall was in fact a person. A very, very large person.
"Um..." Tom began, "Hello."
From somewhere near the ceiling the head moved to look down, and the boy could make out the beady eyes that seemed miles away. How did anyone grow that tall anyhow, and how did he not notice such a person before? Unless...
"'Ello." the not-wall replied, his booming voice coming off nervous, "Didn' see yeh there... sorry."
"Nonsense." Tom waved off the apology, "You didn't do anything wrong and no one was hurt or maimed or traumatized for life. Are you a first year?"
"Er... yeah..." the giant first year replied hesitantly, "Know I don' look like it. 'Ad to move to the back 'cause all the ones in the front were too small."
Tom nodded in understanding. The giant boy (at least, he thought it was a boy, for all he knew it could be a girl with an oddly deep voice like the bearded ladies at the circus) had his head nearly touching the low ceiling of the train as is, at least he could spread out a little more here. Curiosity piqued about the nature of the new student (and besides, Filius would find this hilarious), Tom settled in one of the compartment seats next to the boy after putting his trunk away.
"Yeh...yeh're sayin here?" the giant boy asked, a bit of hope tinging his voice.
"You're interesting." Tom replied with a nod of his head before holding his arm out, "I'm Tom Riddle, third year."
His hand was nearly crushed by the sheer size of the other boy's hand.
"Rubeus Hagrid!" he boomed with a smile before noticing Tom's wince and let go, "Whoops...sorry."
The mildly throbbing hand was worth it when Filius came through the door moments later, the diminutive Ravenclaw's jaw practically hitting the floor upon seeing the giant Hagrid. Filius took the seat next to Tom so that all the boys were on one side, his eyes twinkling in awe and curiosity. In the time it took for the girls to arrive, Tom learned that Hagrid was a half-giant, which boggled his mind a little. He had read about giants (and their size and strength) and was also well aware of how people procreate (the joys of living in an orphanage...). Which led him to the most pressing question.
"How?"
Filius, who had immediately caught on to Tom's train of thought, snickered at the orphan's bewildered expression. Meanwhile, Hagrid looked at the smaller boys in confusion.
"Well, my da' met my mum when she was still with her clan..."
"Wait wait wait." Tom interrupted with wide, dark eyes, "Your mother was the giant?"
"Huh?" Hagrid started at the sudden outburst before beaming, "Yeah, me da's a wizard. Great chap, me da. Raised me on his own when mum left when I was three."
A shuffle from his pockets, and moments later Hagrid was holding up a photo of him at around six or seven (he assumed) with a comparatively tiny man sitting on his shoulders. Which meant that Hagrid's mother was a giantess. But...how would that work?! If Tom Riddle had been a computer, you would be seeing the blue screen of death. Distantly he could hear Filius cackling uncontrollably and the sound of the compartment door opening. As Tom's mental systems rebooted from its untimely crash, his ears picked up the distinct voices of Minerva, Pomona, and Myrtle.
By the time his proverbial programs were running once more, Tom realized that everyone in the compartment was staring at him in worry (the girls), confusion (Hagrid), and mirth (Filius). Blinking a couple of times, the dark haired child mechanically turned to the half-giant boy and stared at him blankly.
"I am going to ignore everything about your mother until I meet your father." Tom told the first year resolutely, "And when I meet him I'm going to get answers, whether I like it or not."
"Um, Tom?" Myrtle asked with a raised eyebrow, "Isn't the saying 'whether you like it or not'?"
"No." was the flat answer, eyes not striating from Hagrid, "I meant what I said."
Looking at each other (was it just him, or did the girls form a truce while he was out of it?), each of his friends turned to each other and shrugged. Hagrid, wide eyed in bewilderment, simply nodded.
The awkward moment was broken by the trolley lady, who smiled up at the rag tag group of friends who descended upon her load of sweets like a pack of seagulls (and a very large mountain dog). Eyes glinting, Minerva bought a couple of boxes of the infamous Bertie Bott's Every Flavor beans. Tom groaned as the Three Musketeers burst out laughing. At Myrtle and Hagrid's confused looks, Pomona elaborated.
"Every year during our ride to Hogwarts," the Hufflepuff began with a smile as she opened up a box and began to pass it around, "We take a box of Bertie Bott's and each of us gets a bean. Whoever gets the strangest flavor wins the round. By the time the train ride is over, the one with the most wins gets to take the rest of the sweets home."
"That's... interesting." Myrtle answered slowly, as she put her hand into the box and plucked out a grey bean with black specks.
"So who won the last few years?" Hagrid asked curiously as he accepted his own bean.
Each Musketeer answered at the same time with wide, knowing smirks.
"Tom."
The aforementioned teen groaned before putting his head in his hands.
"The game actually started because of him, too." Minerva snickered, "He always got the oddest beans, right Tom?"
"Unfortunately." was the grumbled reply, lifting up his bean like a grizzled detective would lift a shot of whiskey, "Cheers."
Each of them copied his movements before eating their bean. Taking out a piece of parchment and adding Hagrid and Myrtle's names, Minerva looked around the compartment.
"I got cheese, what about you lot?"
"Cactus." Pomona answered cheerily.
"Soot." Myrtle said with an odd look, "I don't know how I knew that."
"Sand." Filius piped up, "There's a spell in the bean that tells you what the flavor it is."
"Cinnamon." Hagrid grunted happily.
They turned to the last one of their number, who was chewing the bean with a scrunched up face.
"Paper soaked in Basilisk venom."
"See?" Minerva crowed, "He gets the strangest things!"
"It's... not terrible." Tom felt he needed to add, "It's a little bitter though."
This time Hagrid, Myrtle, and the Musketeers stared at him. The boy shrugged as he took another bean. Quill poised, Minerva sat ready to write down the next round.
"Pickles." the Scottish girl grumbled out.
"Mayonnaise." Pomona stated.
"Toad warts!" Filius squeaked our with a disgusted expression.
"Myrrh." Myrtle put her own two cents in, "Which isn't half bad."
"Gunpowder." Hagrid muttered, "Pretty dry..."
Tom practically spat out his bean, coughing hard. As the other members of the compartment stared at him, the Slytherin purified his tongue by burning it away using an acid pop. A few moments passed as his tongue grew back, the magic of the candy returning it to its former state.
"What did you get?" Filius asked in half horror.
"Mama June after hot yoga." Tom mumbled out.
"Who's Mama June?" Pomona asked confused.
"I don't know.' the boy answered, "But why is it that I get all the crazy flavors?"
"Because you're the one that can handle it!" Minerva told him with a smirk, "After all, you gambled on all of us, do you regret that?"
Tom rolled his eyes and smiled.
"Not one bit."
Because that's the thing about Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. You never know what you're gonna get.
(Yes, the same can be applied to boxes of chocolates.)
AN:
Oni: And that's it for this chapter! I hope you enjoyed!
Tom: Please Follow, Favorite, And Review.
Oni: And I'll see you next time, My Pretties!