Your own coffee from home, or Tim Horton's? I hope the commute is smooth and traffic-jam free :)
Drive "Dismissitivity!" shouted the PI pointing his finger again, and Hermione flinched. Her back-up wand leaped from its holster, snapping the leather retaining strap, and also flew behind her to strike the grandfather clock. "What the hell?" she snarled. Her eyes narrowed as she considered the PI, which she now considered to be a dangerous opponent. "Ronnie, can you stick your head in his mouth and choke him to death?" Ronnie gurgled and starting turning blue as the PI reasserted his grip on Ronnie's throat. "Stop now, please," said Harry dreamily. "This has been fun, but I think I want to go to the bathroom. Please." The PI dropped his hands from Ronnie's throat and Hermione noticed that they trailed on the floor. "Sure, Master Harrington," he said, sounding almost friendly. "The bathroom's this way, sir." Ronnie struggled to his feet, rubbing his chafed neck and rasping, staring as the PI led Harry to the left. "Next time," he said, "we drive here. I don't care about your magic Four Network, stepping out into the grip of that was not fun." "You can drive?" Hermione's eyes relaxed a little, but her brain was racing still, trying to figure out what had just happened. Something about the PI was niggling at her thoughts, which she disliked. It reminded her of rats nibbling at toes. "Of course," said Ronnie. "Dad taught all of us when we were tall enough to reach the pedals. He said that it helped in the mortal realm where they have all these expectations that you know how to do stuff. I can do field surgery too." Hermione turned and picked her wands up, slipping them back into their holsters. For a moment she hefted one in her hand, her thoughts turning inward again. "Ronnie Weasel can drive," she said, notes of irony creeping in. "He's a -- MILF!" Ronnie turned crimson. "I'm pretty sure I'm not," he said, backing away from Hermione. "Whatever you're thinking, I'm not tha--" "Idiot." Hermione's eyes glittered as her thoughts cohered. "Not you, that funny little man. He's a MILF." "Hermione, do you know what a MILF is?" "Magically Imbued Life Form," said Hermione. "The old books call them Homunculi, and the really old ones call them Golems, but the modern name is Magically Imbued Life Form. Wizards created them as servants." "I thought they created House-elves for that?" "House-elves are a kind of MILF," said Hermione. "There are several. You couldn't have a real elf as a servant, it would eat your face. Slowly, while keeping you alive." Ronnie shuddered. "Oh good," he said. "Well, Harry's not screaming so I guess the face-eating hasn't started yet."
Ron doing field surgery is an interesting scenario. And the MILF... well, clearly Ron thinks it has another meaning. And he's wise not to share it with Hermione...
2 comments:
Your own coffee from home, or Tim Horton's? I hope the commute is smooth and traffic-jam free :)
Drive
"Dismissitivity!" shouted the PI pointing his finger again, and Hermione flinched. Her back-up wand leaped from its holster, snapping the leather retaining strap, and also flew behind her to strike the grandfather clock.
"What the hell?" she snarled. Her eyes narrowed as she considered the PI, which she now considered to be a dangerous opponent. "Ronnie, can you stick your head in his mouth and choke him to death?"
Ronnie gurgled and starting turning blue as the PI reasserted his grip on Ronnie's throat.
"Stop now, please," said Harry dreamily. "This has been fun, but I think I want to go to the bathroom. Please."
The PI dropped his hands from Ronnie's throat and Hermione noticed that they trailed on the floor. "Sure, Master Harrington," he said, sounding almost friendly. "The bathroom's this way, sir."
Ronnie struggled to his feet, rubbing his chafed neck and rasping, staring as the PI led Harry to the left. "Next time," he said, "we drive here. I don't care about your magic Four Network, stepping out into the grip of that was not fun."
"You can drive?" Hermione's eyes relaxed a little, but her brain was racing still, trying to figure out what had just happened. Something about the PI was niggling at her thoughts, which she disliked. It reminded her of rats nibbling at toes.
"Of course," said Ronnie. "Dad taught all of us when we were tall enough to reach the pedals. He said that it helped in the mortal realm where they have all these expectations that you know how to do stuff. I can do field surgery too."
Hermione turned and picked her wands up, slipping them back into their holsters. For a moment she hefted one in her hand, her thoughts turning inward again. "Ronnie Weasel can drive," she said, notes of irony creeping in. "He's a -- MILF!"
Ronnie turned crimson. "I'm pretty sure I'm not," he said, backing away from Hermione. "Whatever you're thinking, I'm not tha--"
"Idiot." Hermione's eyes glittered as her thoughts cohered. "Not you, that funny little man. He's a MILF."
"Hermione, do you know what a MILF is?"
"Magically Imbued Life Form," said Hermione. "The old books call them Homunculi, and the really old ones call them Golems, but the modern name is Magically Imbued Life Form. Wizards created them as servants."
"I thought they created House-elves for that?"
"House-elves are a kind of MILF," said Hermione. "There are several. You couldn't have a real elf as a servant, it would eat your face. Slowly, while keeping you alive."
Ronnie shuddered. "Oh good," he said. "Well, Harry's not screaming so I guess the face-eating hasn't started yet."
Greg - coffee from home. For now.
Ron doing field surgery is an interesting scenario. And the MILF... well, clearly Ron thinks it has another meaning. And he's wise not to share it with Hermione...
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