(no subject)
A quick ficlet for fun to show some language issues that come up in britpicking. (Totally unbeta'd - please excuse errors!)
Ron stretched and opened his eyes. He always found it difficult to wake early enough on the first day of term. He blinked. There was a stranger in the next bed, which was closer to his than when Harry had been in it.
The stranger grinned at Ron. “Hi, I’m Randy.”
Ron’s jaw dropped. He really didn’t want to know how sexually aroused this new bloke was, especially before they’d been introduced.
“I’m just here for a year - have come on an exchange from the Salem Wizarding Intitute.”
That explains it, thought Ron. Americans. Crazy, the whole lot of them. “Er, you play Quidditch?” asked Ron, searching for a way to start a conversation as they both hopped out of bed.
“Nah, Quodpot’s the game where I am. I’ll just stay in the bleachers, rooting for the team.”
Ron heard Seamus choke a little across the room. “The entire team?!” asked Seamus.
“Well, I might just pick one player as a favourite, I suppose,” said the randy bugger. “Maybe the Seeker - I’d love to have talent to fly like Viktor Krum.”
“I don’t think Harry bends that way,” said Seamus. “What’s your name, then?”
“Randy.”
Silence reigned in the dormitory. “Er, you might want to change that, mate,” suggested Ron.
Randy looked surprised. “What’s wrong with Randy?” he demanded.
“Well,” Ron tried his best to be diplomatic. “When you said you were randy before, I thought you were telling me you were…erm…”
“Horny,” put in Dean Thomas, who had been sniggering in the background.
“Oh,” said Randy, looking a little embarrassed. “Well, it’s short for Randolph, would that do?”
“Much better,” chorused the other boys.
“Where’s Harry?” asked Ron, glancing around. Harry’s bed - on the other side of Randolph’s - was made already.
“He bummed a fag awhile ago,” said Dean, “and went outside to smoke.”
“I thought you said Harry doesn’t bend that way?” asked Randolph curiously.
“What?” asked Seamus in confusion. “He’s not gay. He’s going out with Ginny - Ron’s sister.”
“But you just said he was a fag.”
“No, he wanted a fag,” said Dean, who was obviously finding conversing with the American of the Species to be rather tricky.
“Same thing, isn’t it?”
“I think,” interrupted Neville, “that’s it’s another Randy/horny issue.” Everyone looked relieved. “What does ‘fag’ mean to you, Randolph?”
“A fag is a homosexual, of course,” he replied.
The other boys started to laugh. “Harry’s going to love that!” said Ron.
“So what does ‘fag’ mean for you guys?”
“Cigarette,” gasped Dean between laughs.
“Oh dear god.” Randolph shook his head. “I think I’m gonna need a dictionary.”
Ron stretched and opened his eyes. He always found it difficult to wake early enough on the first day of term. He blinked. There was a stranger in the next bed, which was closer to his than when Harry had been in it.
The stranger grinned at Ron. “Hi, I’m Randy.”
Ron’s jaw dropped. He really didn’t want to know how sexually aroused this new bloke was, especially before they’d been introduced.
“I’m just here for a year - have come on an exchange from the Salem Wizarding Intitute.”
That explains it, thought Ron. Americans. Crazy, the whole lot of them. “Er, you play Quidditch?” asked Ron, searching for a way to start a conversation as they both hopped out of bed.
“Nah, Quodpot’s the game where I am. I’ll just stay in the bleachers, rooting for the team.”
Ron heard Seamus choke a little across the room. “The entire team?!” asked Seamus.
“Well, I might just pick one player as a favourite, I suppose,” said the randy bugger. “Maybe the Seeker - I’d love to have talent to fly like Viktor Krum.”
“I don’t think Harry bends that way,” said Seamus. “What’s your name, then?”
“Randy.”
Silence reigned in the dormitory. “Er, you might want to change that, mate,” suggested Ron.
Randy looked surprised. “What’s wrong with Randy?” he demanded.
“Well,” Ron tried his best to be diplomatic. “When you said you were randy before, I thought you were telling me you were…erm…”
“Horny,” put in Dean Thomas, who had been sniggering in the background.
“Oh,” said Randy, looking a little embarrassed. “Well, it’s short for Randolph, would that do?”
“Much better,” chorused the other boys.
“Where’s Harry?” asked Ron, glancing around. Harry’s bed - on the other side of Randolph’s - was made already.
“He bummed a fag awhile ago,” said Dean, “and went outside to smoke.”
“I thought you said Harry doesn’t bend that way?” asked Randolph curiously.
“What?” asked Seamus in confusion. “He’s not gay. He’s going out with Ginny - Ron’s sister.”
“But you just said he was a fag.”
“No, he wanted a fag,” said Dean, who was obviously finding conversing with the American of the Species to be rather tricky.
“Same thing, isn’t it?”
“I think,” interrupted Neville, “that’s it’s another Randy/horny issue.” Everyone looked relieved. “What does ‘fag’ mean to you, Randolph?”
“A fag is a homosexual, of course,” he replied.
The other boys started to laugh. “Harry’s going to love that!” said Ron.
“So what does ‘fag’ mean for you guys?”
“Cigarette,” gasped Dean between laughs.
“Oh dear god.” Randolph shook his head. “I think I’m gonna need a dictionary.”