Post by Sir Francis Drake's Heir on Aug 7, 2007 14:52:04 GMT -5
Title: Fillius Flitwick and the Terrible, Horrible Affair of the Brand New Shoes
Summary: Fillius goes for a walk in the rain and blows up his shoe.
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Well, this one going to be a Flash fic thing, but then it got waaaaay too long. So now I post it here. ;D It's also unbeta'd, HINT. Cuz, you know, I have one not HINT. So, just sayin' HINT HINT.
There was mud all over Fillius Flitwick’s brand-new shoes.
He sighed deeply. They had been a beautiful pair of shoes, and he had been very excited about them, before they were ruined. He’d made a point of talking about them with the entire staff, even Headmaster Dumbledore, who had been very appreciative of them. Minerva McGonagall, however, had not been impressed. But she was no longer annoyed when he acted like that. There were things you go used to after forty years of friendship.
As rain continued pounding down on him, and even more water seeped into his shoes, he looked up, enraged.
“WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO, WEATHER?!?” he shouted furiously, shaking his fist at the sky and hopping from one foot to the other. "WHAT HAVE I EVER DONE TO YOU?”
He took off one of his shoes and chucked it across the muddy lawn. Then he took off the other one and began to stomp on it, still screaming in frustration. Then he hexed it into a million tiny, black pieces and received tremendous (albeit fleeting) satisfaction out of the explosion that it made. When he was finished, he stood there for a moment, panting and out of breath.
Suddenly, he heard a soft and (unfortunately) familiar voice behind him.
“Um… Fillius?” it asked him gently in a tone it would use when trying to reason with an irate toddler, “What are you… doing?”
Fillius flushed brightly, cringed, and clenched his fists at his side. He turned around slowly, looking as though he was attempting to immerse himself into a particularly cold body of water.
“Hello, Pomona…” he squeaked when he faced the woman the voice belonged to. His eyes were shut so tightly, his nose wrinkled up and his mouth stretched precariously.
The Herbology Professor, who had donned a brightly colored raincoat and blue striped galoshes, contemplated his sopping appearance from the shelter of her large yellow umbrella.
“I see you weren’t expecting a thunderstorm,” she said unnecessarily.
He shook his head vigorously. Mentally, he was kicking himself. Of all the people in all of Hogwarts, of course she just hadto be the one to find him.
This was just not his day.
There was a long, awkward pause, during which Fillius began to understand how bugs must feel under microscopes. He looked at her bright galoshes. He looked across the lawn. He watched for the squid in the lake. Finally, Pomona decided to end it before it became to much for both of them.
“Do you want to share my umbrella the rest of the way back?” she offered kindly. He shook his head.
“What difference would it make?” he sighed and gestured to his muddy socks, ruined suit, and drenched hair. “I can’t get any wetter than I already am.”
Pomona bit her lip. “That’s true,” she admitted, nodding. “But…” she tapped her wand to the handle of her umbrella, extending it to cover him, “It would make me feel better.” She smiled at him, uncharacteristically shy, and laced her fingers in with his.
Fillius grinned brightly back at her, squeezed her hand, and gladly went with her the rest of the way.
They did not look back.
Are you dedded from teh sap? No? Well, then, you are made of sterner stuff than I.
Like it? Hate it? Love it? Loathe it? Please tell me!
Summary: Fillius goes for a walk in the rain and blows up his shoe.
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Well, this one going to be a Flash fic thing, but then it got waaaaay too long. So now I post it here. ;D It's also unbeta'd, HINT. Cuz, you know, I have one not HINT. So, just sayin' HINT HINT.
~~~`~~@/***\@~~'~~
There was mud all over Fillius Flitwick’s brand-new shoes.
He sighed deeply. They had been a beautiful pair of shoes, and he had been very excited about them, before they were ruined. He’d made a point of talking about them with the entire staff, even Headmaster Dumbledore, who had been very appreciative of them. Minerva McGonagall, however, had not been impressed. But she was no longer annoyed when he acted like that. There were things you go used to after forty years of friendship.
As rain continued pounding down on him, and even more water seeped into his shoes, he looked up, enraged.
“WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO, WEATHER?!?” he shouted furiously, shaking his fist at the sky and hopping from one foot to the other. "WHAT HAVE I EVER DONE TO YOU?”
He took off one of his shoes and chucked it across the muddy lawn. Then he took off the other one and began to stomp on it, still screaming in frustration. Then he hexed it into a million tiny, black pieces and received tremendous (albeit fleeting) satisfaction out of the explosion that it made. When he was finished, he stood there for a moment, panting and out of breath.
Suddenly, he heard a soft and (unfortunately) familiar voice behind him.
“Um… Fillius?” it asked him gently in a tone it would use when trying to reason with an irate toddler, “What are you… doing?”
Fillius flushed brightly, cringed, and clenched his fists at his side. He turned around slowly, looking as though he was attempting to immerse himself into a particularly cold body of water.
“Hello, Pomona…” he squeaked when he faced the woman the voice belonged to. His eyes were shut so tightly, his nose wrinkled up and his mouth stretched precariously.
The Herbology Professor, who had donned a brightly colored raincoat and blue striped galoshes, contemplated his sopping appearance from the shelter of her large yellow umbrella.
“I see you weren’t expecting a thunderstorm,” she said unnecessarily.
He shook his head vigorously. Mentally, he was kicking himself. Of all the people in all of Hogwarts, of course she just hadto be the one to find him.
This was just not his day.
There was a long, awkward pause, during which Fillius began to understand how bugs must feel under microscopes. He looked at her bright galoshes. He looked across the lawn. He watched for the squid in the lake. Finally, Pomona decided to end it before it became to much for both of them.
“Do you want to share my umbrella the rest of the way back?” she offered kindly. He shook his head.
“What difference would it make?” he sighed and gestured to his muddy socks, ruined suit, and drenched hair. “I can’t get any wetter than I already am.”
Pomona bit her lip. “That’s true,” she admitted, nodding. “But…” she tapped her wand to the handle of her umbrella, extending it to cover him, “It would make me feel better.” She smiled at him, uncharacteristically shy, and laced her fingers in with his.
Fillius grinned brightly back at her, squeezed her hand, and gladly went with her the rest of the way.
They did not look back.
~~~`~~@/***\@~~'~~
Are you dedded from teh sap? No? Well, then, you are made of sterner stuff than I.
Like it? Hate it? Love it? Loathe it? Please tell me!
