Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor - Chapters: 75 - Words: 74,437 - Reviews: 125 - Favs: 81 - Follows: 79 - Updated: Dec 16 - Published: Jan 18, 2016 - id: 11739934
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"I was sitting cross[-]legged on a settee – a beautiful old canapé – in our living room, when he walked in and looked around, frowning." –Notyou21, "Waiting for You"
"Something wrong, Lucius?" I enquired.
Lucius sighed. "Narcissa," he said, "remind me again why you insisted on decorating this room in Engorged French hors d'œuvres?"
I arched an eyebrow. "Don't you like it?" I said. "I thought after Vincentia Greengrass was so high and mighty about having redone her whole house in Viennese pastry, you were positively anxious to show her that we could furnish the Manor in equally good taste."
"Oh, I don't deny its tastiness," said Lucius. "It's just too rich for my constitution, that's all. Look at that canapé you're sitting on: it's beautiful, certainly, but I can feel my arteries stiffening just looking at it. Wasn't there some distinguished culinary tradition you could have used that emphasised lean meats and vegetables, instead of all this beef and dairy?"
I smiled. "Well, now, Lucius, it's funny that you should mention that," I said, and withdrew a Witch Weekly clipping from my robes. "What do you think of this idea for a Pu-Pu Platter Parlour? They say it's all the rage in Hong Kong this season."
Lucius studied the clipping thoughtfully, and a slow smile spread over his face. "Looks good enough to eat," he said.
"My feelings exactly."
"I would advise you either frame it, or find a plastic sleeve for it. The stationary store across the street will have what you need." –Angel Nat-Chan, "Sketch Artist"
"Morning, miss," said the smiling shopkeeper behind the desk.
"Hi," said Sarah. "I'm looking for a rectangular picture frame, about two feet wide and three tall?"
"Over on the back wall," said the shopkeeper, pointing. "I just hope you can find something you like; our stock's been pretty thoroughly depleted over the past couple weeks, what with everyone coming to us now that we're the only stationary store on the block."
"I still don't understand why all the others went mobile," Sarah remarked. "Why would anyone enchant a store to run away when it saw a customer coming? What could possibly have made them think that was a winning marketing strategy?"
"Experts," said the shopkeeper. "Some bloke named Ferguson came and showed them a mathematical model proving they'd be destitute by June unless they bought his Mobile-Market Medallions, and the great lummoxes fell for it." He rolled his eyes. "Makes me wish I'd played more poker with them. Anyway, good luck with your frame."
"So this is my first attempt at an ABO fic." –wintergreen825, author's note to "Definition of Defiance"*
"What happened to this one?" said Healer Smethwyck, staring down at the ravaged, blood-coated wizard lying unconscious on the stretcher.
"Bar fight," said the orderly who had brought him in. "Apparently he and a friend downed one too many firewhiskies, got to arguing about whether the word 'defiance' meant 'resistance offered to an opposing force' or 'to dissolve a betrothal contract', and started throwing Sectumsempra curses at each other."
Smethwyck shook his head, reflecting once again what a warped view of humanity a career at St Mungo's was liable to give a person. "Do we have a blood type?" he said.
"B positive," said the orderly.
"I try," said Smethwyck, "but it's not easy."
"No, I mean…"
"I know what you mean." Smethwyck withdrew his wand and pointed it at the nearby cabinet of small aluminium canisters, each enchanted to hold a grown man's standard allotment of blood in a tithe of the space. "Accio Third from the Left!"
As he caught the appropriate canister out of the air and began to set up the Transfusion Charm, he heard an admiring chuckle from the wall behind him. "You know," came Dilys Derwent's voice, "back in my day, we didn't have it nearly that easy. How well I remember all the trial and error I had to go through, figuring out whose blood a given patient's body would or wouldn't accept."
"I know," said Smethwyck. "Thank God and that Landsteiner Muggle for the ABO system, eh?"
"'Yeah[,] it's in good shape,' she admitted, 'but I'm about two stones lighter than you, so I doubt your antique can match my agility!'" –MiladyMorningstar, "Nothing New under the Sun"
James blinked, and gave the red-headed time traveler a scandalised look. "Um… did you just say what I think you said?"
Ginny grinned back shamelessly. "Girl power."
*I don't have to explain what the intended referent here was, do I? Because I don't know that I can; I feel about the Omega-verse pretty much the way that Patti Deutsch felt about Cal Worthington.
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