The Misdirected Parcel
Since I didn't tag anyone, I guess I will just have to write more-
As soon as Nic and Kate were off the rather narrow boardwalk that was built out over the wetlands in the Palo Alto section of San Francisco Bay, he took the hat off his seriously befuddled friend and transfigured it into a plastic pink flamingo.
Kate reacted as though he had splashed her with ice water. 'I had the strangest dream,' she began. 'It was about a postal-elf and a very ancient house-elf with hair growing out of his ears. They were... you know... and they were doing it on a rainbow quilt stuffed with very high quality fluff.'
'Calm down Kate,' said Nic, getting her settled in the Prius they had rented to blend in with the rest of the people around Stanford. 'We already have our bags packed and shrunk. All we need to do is return the rental car and we can leave from the International Portkey Centre this afternoon.'
'What's that?' asked Kate, noticing the pink plastic flamingo perching on one foot.
'I tried to transfigure the hat you made from the parcel but I suspect it was too full of fluff to transfigure properly.'
'Well, it will match Ros C*****'s shed. Maybe she can use it frighten the sheep away if we can't get the parcel to transfigure properly.'
With the pink plastic flamingo tucked firmly under her arm and their luggage shrunk and tucked in her robe pocket, Kate grabbed the ping-pong paddle Portkey and felt the squashing into a tube feeling of being transported through time and space. The eight hour difference between California and London meant that it was half after two in the morning.
'Home again, home again, jiggety jig,' said Nic, as he always did as they returned from a trip.
'I think I need to sleep,' said Kate. 'Either I have Portkey lag or it's an after effect of the fluff in the parcel being too close to my brain.'
'I'll send an owl to Molly so she'll know we are home and have something for a friend of Charlie's.' Nic took the pink plastic flamingo and put it on the table in the hall where their house-elf had put their accumulated mail.
Kate nodded distractedly and said, 'I'll Floo Call her when I get rid of this dizzy feeling.
Damn rainbow coloured fluff!'
By ten the following morning, the flamingo had managed to curl itself around so that, while it was still plastic, it looked remarkably like the hat that Kate had been wearing on the boardwalk. By tea-time, it had sprouted feathers. It was well on its way to turning into the sort of hat one would wear to a posh wedding if one were of a certain age. Kate groaned. 'I think we are going to need some sort of professional help getting the parcel back.'
As soon as Nic and Kate were off the rather narrow boardwalk that was built out over the wetlands in the Palo Alto section of San Francisco Bay, he took the hat off his seriously befuddled friend and transfigured it into a plastic pink flamingo.
Kate reacted as though he had splashed her with ice water. 'I had the strangest dream,' she began. 'It was about a postal-elf and a very ancient house-elf with hair growing out of his ears. They were... you know... and they were doing it on a rainbow quilt stuffed with very high quality fluff.'
'Calm down Kate,' said Nic, getting her settled in the Prius they had rented to blend in with the rest of the people around Stanford. 'We already have our bags packed and shrunk. All we need to do is return the rental car and we can leave from the International Portkey Centre this afternoon.'
'What's that?' asked Kate, noticing the pink plastic flamingo perching on one foot.
'I tried to transfigure the hat you made from the parcel but I suspect it was too full of fluff to transfigure properly.'
'Well, it will match Ros C*****'s shed. Maybe she can use it frighten the sheep away if we can't get the parcel to transfigure properly.'
With the pink plastic flamingo tucked firmly under her arm and their luggage shrunk and tucked in her robe pocket, Kate grabbed the ping-pong paddle Portkey and felt the squashing into a tube feeling of being transported through time and space. The eight hour difference between California and London meant that it was half after two in the morning.
'Home again, home again, jiggety jig,' said Nic, as he always did as they returned from a trip.
'I think I need to sleep,' said Kate. 'Either I have Portkey lag or it's an after effect of the fluff in the parcel being too close to my brain.'
'I'll send an owl to Molly so she'll know we are home and have something for a friend of Charlie's.' Nic took the pink plastic flamingo and put it on the table in the hall where their house-elf had put their accumulated mail.
Kate nodded distractedly and said, 'I'll Floo Call her when I get rid of this dizzy feeling.
Damn rainbow coloured fluff!'
By ten the following morning, the flamingo had managed to curl itself around so that, while it was still plastic, it looked remarkably like the hat that Kate had been wearing on the boardwalk. By tea-time, it had sprouted feathers. It was well on its way to turning into the sort of hat one would wear to a posh wedding if one were of a certain age. Kate groaned. 'I think we are going to need some sort of professional help getting the parcel back.'