(no subject)
Title: Strictly Business
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Helga Hufflepuff/OMC.
Rating: PG for botanical violence.
Prompt: "tree," from 24xmas
Summary: Helga Lockhart, herbologist to the rich and famous, has a bit of a crush on her new business partner, Basil Hufflepuff. 500 words.
Author's Note: Beh, it's several minutes after midnight, so I suppose that means I should be turning into a pumpkin right about now. I was trying to finish up prompt 3 (for which I had hardly any plotbunnies) and I'm still not sure I can do this, but here goes nothing. I had just finished watching "Bridget Jones' Diary" and reading Interesting Times, and I think both kind of show. Also, this is sort of a follow-up to a longer fic, The Duelist's Dilemma. The master Founders list is here.
"What do you make of it?" Helga asked, trying not to look too smug.
He frowned; his nose crinkled when he did that, and it was awfully cute. He probably had a girl somewhere. Strictly business, Helga reminded herself. Her interests in Master Hufflepuff were strictly, strictly business. Really attractive business that told good jokes. And had asked her to call him Basil. "What is it?" he asked.
"It's a, well. It's a sort of experiment," she said, and before she could stop herself, she explained. "It's an animal-plant hybrid -- not that they're anything new, I've been working with them for ages, you've got to use fungus you see, even though it's sort of distasteful -- mycology's practically botanical necromancy, really, but it's so very minimal and it does wonders for the grafting without a lot of complex arithmancy, but the really tricky thing is getting the seeds to pass everything on -- but after all that, what it is really is -- other than the mandible, of course, the ossification of which is an interesting problem in and of itself -- is that I'm trying to make something that can see. But without eyes, so really it's going to have to smell, since, eyes, you know, they're eyes and they make such good targets so I thought why bother with eyes? Not when you can have less obvious chemical receptors! More sensitive ones, even! So it's a cultivar I call 'Chien de la Guerre.' And this one's called Judy."
"...but what is it?" he asked, frowning at her as though she had started speaking at him in Gaelic.
Really attractive business that knew nothing about herbology, she reminded herself, was not nearly as attractive. Still. Men could be educated. Small, simple words. She sighed. "It's a pear tree that can smell."
"Oh, is that all?" And before she could stop him, he reached up to pick a pear off, and one of Judy's green-yellow maws opened a snarling mouth and sunk its wooden teeth into his wrist.
Several minutes later, she was apologizing for the eightieth time. "It's just that I thought I'd mentioned the teeth," she said.
"Oh, it's just a scratch, I'll be fine," said Master Huffl-- Basil. Strictly-business Basil. He smiled bravely, an expression that dissolved into pain as soon as she applied the bandages. "Er. I think you said -- ow -- before, during lunch, that you -- augh -- wanted me to fight your plants?"
"Well, I thought," she said, "it could be, you know. Er. Good for business." She went red. Business. Really! "If you know, we, you, if you could fight them, I could, you know, make them better, so you couldn't beat them. As easily. I mean! I'm not going to feed you to them. That wouldn't be good. I'm so sorry Judy bit you, I just thought --"
"It's fine," he said. "When do I start?" And he smiled again. He had brown eyes.
Strictly business. "Er. Tomorrow?"
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Helga Hufflepuff/OMC.
Rating: PG for botanical violence.
Prompt: "tree," from 24xmas
Summary: Helga Lockhart, herbologist to the rich and famous, has a bit of a crush on her new business partner, Basil Hufflepuff. 500 words.
Author's Note: Beh, it's several minutes after midnight, so I suppose that means I should be turning into a pumpkin right about now. I was trying to finish up prompt 3 (for which I had hardly any plotbunnies) and I'm still not sure I can do this, but here goes nothing. I had just finished watching "Bridget Jones' Diary" and reading Interesting Times, and I think both kind of show. Also, this is sort of a follow-up to a longer fic, The Duelist's Dilemma. The master Founders list is here.
"What do you make of it?" Helga asked, trying not to look too smug.
He frowned; his nose crinkled when he did that, and it was awfully cute. He probably had a girl somewhere. Strictly business, Helga reminded herself. Her interests in Master Hufflepuff were strictly, strictly business. Really attractive business that told good jokes. And had asked her to call him Basil. "What is it?" he asked.
"It's a, well. It's a sort of experiment," she said, and before she could stop herself, she explained. "It's an animal-plant hybrid -- not that they're anything new, I've been working with them for ages, you've got to use fungus you see, even though it's sort of distasteful -- mycology's practically botanical necromancy, really, but it's so very minimal and it does wonders for the grafting without a lot of complex arithmancy, but the really tricky thing is getting the seeds to pass everything on -- but after all that, what it is really is -- other than the mandible, of course, the ossification of which is an interesting problem in and of itself -- is that I'm trying to make something that can see. But without eyes, so really it's going to have to smell, since, eyes, you know, they're eyes and they make such good targets so I thought why bother with eyes? Not when you can have less obvious chemical receptors! More sensitive ones, even! So it's a cultivar I call 'Chien de la Guerre.' And this one's called Judy."
"...but what is it?" he asked, frowning at her as though she had started speaking at him in Gaelic.
Really attractive business that knew nothing about herbology, she reminded herself, was not nearly as attractive. Still. Men could be educated. Small, simple words. She sighed. "It's a pear tree that can smell."
"Oh, is that all?" And before she could stop him, he reached up to pick a pear off, and one of Judy's green-yellow maws opened a snarling mouth and sunk its wooden teeth into his wrist.
Several minutes later, she was apologizing for the eightieth time. "It's just that I thought I'd mentioned the teeth," she said.
"Oh, it's just a scratch, I'll be fine," said Master Huffl-- Basil. Strictly-business Basil. He smiled bravely, an expression that dissolved into pain as soon as she applied the bandages. "Er. I think you said -- ow -- before, during lunch, that you -- augh -- wanted me to fight your plants?"
"Well, I thought," she said, "it could be, you know. Er. Good for business." She went red. Business. Really! "If you know, we, you, if you could fight them, I could, you know, make them better, so you couldn't beat them. As easily. I mean! I'm not going to feed you to them. That wouldn't be good. I'm so sorry Judy bit you, I just thought --"
"It's fine," he said. "When do I start?" And he smiled again. He had brown eyes.
Strictly business. "Er. Tomorrow?"