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Friends Both in Need, Indeed

April 16th, 2010 (01:40 am)

current location: Diagon and beyond
current mood: blah

I’m beginnin’ to get the itch for true spring, I am. While I don’t usually mind the cold and clammy air of winter all that much, it’s been kind of a tough one to get through what with nobody to keep my hands nor my heart warm. It’s starting to feel like there’s a chill settlin’ in to stay, and much as I don’t know what the hell I wanna do with my outside-work life right now, I know I don’t want that.

So when one of our pulverized potion ingredient suppliers comes up short a delivery wizard, and we need it fast at the Wheezes, I volunteer to make the walk down to the farthest end of Diagon. It’s kinda nice down there, really. Turns into somethin’ of a country lane down there, little brook off to the side babblin’ along through a little woods. Figure the air an’ the lack o’ four walls around me might just do me some good.

I head off ‘bout mid-afternoon, tryin’ to politely, if not energetical-like, return the smiles and waves of the people on the Alley I know, and walkin’ a bit faster to get on beyond ‘em quicker too.

I leave the lane about the time I run outta shops around me and figure I’ll wander the brook for a bit, maybe toss in a rock or two – or maybe even a knut for luck iffin I’ve got one with me. But it looks like someone’s beat me to it, this brook-walkin’ thing. And it’s a familiar someone, too. She looks like she’s deep in thought, and with that one, I know deep thought can be a coupla planets away.

“Luna?” I say, tryin not to be loud and speakin' from a few meters away so that I don’t startle her outta her thoughts too fast.

Both her hands are clasped at the front of ‘er large coat and I see the sun what’s coming in catch red and blue flashes on her hand. One hand slides up and a finger hooks over her chin for a mo, fore tappin and she looks up, like her finger’s the one what heard me and was bringin her to attention.

She looks for a second, then tilts ‘er head to the side and smiles. “Oh. Hello Fred or George.”

"Hello, Luna," I tell her. "And it's Fred, not George. No problem ya didn't know, but just so ya do now."

“Oh, alright. It makes it a little easier to talk, I think, so I can just say one name. You look rather introspective.”

"Do I? Introspective, eh? Well, can't say as many people have ever described me like that, but then you've never been like many other people," I tell her."And I should tell you I see that as a good thing."

Her smile widens. “You certainly are unlike others, yourself. Nobody else might have suggested I have a business. But if everybody were the same, there would be no progress, would there?”

"No, I don't s'pose there would." I look around her to see what she mighta been doin', if she was doin' anything at all."So...you workin' on anything down here, or ya just seein' what the brook tells ya? Rumour has it they're terrible babblers. Might be tough to understand it, though."

“Oh, I don’t know,” she sighs. “I was hoping it could help, but perhaps I’m grasping at nargles.”

"Hmm - yeah, nargles could be distracting at at times like these, I'll give ya that," I agree. "But, if I'm not imposin' or nothin', you said you were hopin' the brook would help. I'm just a lowly wizard 'stead of a brook, but is there anythin' I might be able to help ya with?"

She sighs again, but this time it’s a bit more disappointed and a mite testy. “Nargles aren’t real.”

"Real or not, they can still be distracting," I tell her. "Daydreams aren't real neither, but I know I've had some damned distracting daydreams. Anyway, back to this help thing. Anythin' I can do?" A sudden shiver goes through me. "Not too warm out here yet, is it? Sunshine or no."

“I suppose I don’t notice,” she says, looking down at the water, “living in Scotland as we do, but perhaps you’re right.”

"Yeah, perhaps ya don't, but I have to break it to ya, I am right." I look back toward the village and notice a few tiny new shops at the end and toward the back of the old buildings that hold the suppliers' place. Looks like one's got flowers, one's got - can't tell that one, and closest to us, one with what looks like a brand new sign that says 'Sereni-Tea'. "Hey Luna, you ever see those places before? Those little shops up there."

She tilts her head to one side and looks up. “Only the tea shop. They have a lovely selection. Do you fancy warming up over a pot?”

"Oh yeah," I tell her, beginnin' to feel my toes go numb as a stiff breeze blows down the brook. "I fancy that a whole lot. I won't be interruptin' ya from what you got goin' down here, right? Iffin we head on up there all soonish-like?"

“No, I suppose you would be more help than the brook, in any case, since you’re one too.”

I blink at her for a mo. "Am I now? And what would I be one of too?" Yeah, this oughtta be good.

Her eyes go all wide, lookin about twice as big, pale as they are. “Well, like me. Not stuck, anyhow, at least I don’t think. But perhaps you are and that’s why you’re here, too.”

Long as I've known Luna, she's always had this uncanny way of cuttin' right to the chase and knowin' more than anybody can ever figure out how. "Hmm. Well, yeah I suppose you could say I am stuck, in a way. But I'm not sure it's in a way I can work myself out of right soon, or maybe even work myself out of by myself. Hard to tell, really."

“Perhaps a bit of company could help us both,” she muses, lookin up at the tea shop. “At least nudge us loose from the dried mud.”


Posted by: nm_fred (nm_fred)
Posted at: May 8th, 2010 08:49 am (UTC)
Other noir

I snort at that. "Well, let's hope at least that, since I've never been a big fan of dried mud. But yeah, I think some company might be nice."

She reaches her hand out and takes hold of mine, pulling as she walks toward the tea shop without another word.

We start to walk up the little slope to the tea shop, and in moments, we're inside the warmth of the tiny, but aromatic tea shop.

An old lady with bluish hair looks us over. “Hullo, Dearie, tea for you and your husband?”

“Oh, no, Colin’s at work. Fred is my friend,” Luna answers, the way she says friend soundin like she thinks it’s the greatest invention since sliced bread.

“Right this way, then,” the lady says, leadin us into a cozy small room, not lookin all puff and frill, like Puddifoot. “We’ve our weekly teas listed on that little scroll there. Just ring us when you’ve decided what you’d like.”

I wait for Luna to sit down in her cushy chair and sit down in mine, then I turn the little scroll on the table toward her so she can read it too. "Hmm. Looks like they might have Madam Puddifoot outdone with all the kinds of tea on there. White rhododendron tea? Whatever steeps your tea leaves, I s'pose."

“I like the Mint Meditation tea,” she says, pointing to it. “Lovely and light, and both warm and cool at the same time. It’s lovely with Starthistle honey.”

"Hmm - yeah, never been much of a mint tea fan, though. I suppose I'll try out some o' this Jasmine Green. The honey's all okay, though," I tell her.

“Alright, Jasmine Green is good, too,” she agrees and adds, “shall we have a snack?”

"Sure. I'm always up for a snack, myself. What's your pleasure? I've never been all too picky, so anything's good with me," I tell her, and it is.

“Well…it might be a little strange with green tea, but I like the cucumber tea sandwiches, and perhaps a small plate of the sweet wafers.”

"That sounds delightful, m'dear," I say kinda dramatic-like, finally gettin warmer and feelin a bit better to be out enjoyin' some friendly tea and chitchat.

She laughs out loud at this, not the giggle you’d expect from most witches, but a jubilant, mirthful guffaw.

Which, 'course, makes me guffaw myself. Nothin' like a good laugh to bring on a good laugh.

Once we finally settle down, I look around and remember we were supposed to ring when we were ready. "Would you be the ringer? Or am I?"

“Why don’t we both?” she asks, her eyes widening. “I can hold the handle and you can push the bell so that it sways to ring.”
I have to think on that a mo. "Yeah, alright then. I s'pose that works." And believe it or not, it does, we find out. The little blue-haired lady bustles right over when she hears us ringing.

“Well, have you decided on something dearies?” she asks, lookin mumly at first Luna and then me.

"Yeah, she'll have some Mint Meditation Tea with some Starwhistlin' honey, an' I'll have some Jasmine Green with same. Oh - and we want, er, cucumber sandwiches and some sweet biscuits to go along. I get all that right?" I ask Luna.

Luna laughs. “Starthistle honey,” she says. “Oh, I’m so sorry, dearie, we haven’t got starthistle honey. I’ve got some lovely orange blossom, and some clover, if you like.” “No, I think then I’ll just drink my milk tea without honey, thank you.”

"I'll have some orange blossom along with mine, I think," I tell the lady.

She thanks us and bustles off.

"Starthistle honey or nothin', eh? Must be good stuff," I tell Luna.

“Well, not with mint,” she answers. “Orange blossom is better with fruitier tea, I think. It’s a little sweet. Starthistle is very robust, I suppose one would say.”

"Ah, okay. S'pose I'm more of a tea and honey gourmand myself. You sound like you've got yours all worked out," I tell her. "I know when we were growin’ up Mum always told us to be glad for what we’ve got on the shelf, no matter what kind it is."

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