A short riff today. A mere 270 words…
After Bumblebore magically cleared the table of detritus, Harry went off to find the boozehound something to drink. Next to a Scarf and Barf he found a Three Broomsticks Express and ordered two butterbeers.
He carried them back to the table and put one in front of the wizened wizard. “Okay, speak,” he said.
Bumblebore picked up the flagon of flavor and downed half of it with one big gulp.
“Thank you my boy.” He wiped foam from his face with an iffy sleeve. “Where were we?”
“The Horcrux, you mangy magician.” Harry twirled his wand like a light saber.
Bumblebore downed the dregs of his buterbeer. “Uh…huh. Horcrux, Horcrux…hmmm, I seem to have a faulty memory.”
“Oh, okay,” sighed Harry despondently. “I’ll get you another butter beer you olde boozehound.”
“Who you calling a boozehound?” retorted the red nosed wizard.
Harry came back with the drink and set it on the table. All the butter beers had magically emptied.
“Now,” Harry growled menacingly. “Horcruxii or I’m reporting you to AA.”
“Amalgamated Alchemists? I doubt they’ll do much.”
“Horcruxii, are a portion of a magical person’s sole.”
Bumblebore sipped contentedly at his drink while wondering if he could get Harry to buy him something stronger like a Sloe Gin Fizz or Long Island Iced Tea. He might be able to con a tea out of the little weenie if Harry thought it didn’t contain booze.
“When a wizard does something bad, like jaywalking, a piece of the sole is torn away and can be placed in a container. Making the wizard, as it were, immortal…if he or she can remember his or her shoe size.”
To be continued…