This Is Not My Life

No. Really. It's not.

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Drabble Meme
CoS BBE Icon by poetrusic
evadne_noel
I need a kick in the pants start.

MEME: The first fifteen people to comment on this post with a prompt get to request a drabble from you. In return, they have to post this meme in their journal (though, no pressure). Post all fandoms you’re willing to write for.

Um, the "fandoms [I'm] willing to write for" are pretty limited. I've only ever written extensively for HP, and mostly only about the bad guys. However, technically, I've also written for Bizenghast, Pirates of the Caribbean and Lord of the Rings, so if you're feeling daring, you can request one of those.

Also, I loosely define drabble here, so it will be at least 100 words, but probably not that exactly.
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Well, Harry's trapped, but Lucius isn't quite. But it is Snape's suggestion.

- - - - - - - -

“You’re doing it wrong,” said Lucius exasperatedly, yanking the bowl of shell peas out of Harry’s hands. “It’s like this. Watch.” Lucius picked up a peapod. “First you pinch off the ends, like so. Then you pull the strip on the side. See it there? It opens the pod right up. Now you push the peas out, and discard the shell in this other bowl here. We’ll make compost out of that.” Harry found himself miraculously holding the bowl again. “Now, you try.”

With deft, deliberate, almost mocking, motions, Harry quickly shelled a peapod. Lucius nodded in proud satisfaction, as if Harry had managed to disarm a bomb. “Good job. Okay, you shell those peas, and I’ll slice these onions.”

Harry shrugged and got shelling. He didn’t understand what was so horrible about helping Lucius prepare dinner. Snape had acted as if he was sentencing Harry to the cruelest of punishments. But he didn’t even have to peel a mountain of potatoes.

“Sorry you have to shell those peas, Merak. Shelling peas is absolute murder on the cuticles. And it leaves thick, green ridges under your fingernails. Before you go to bed tonight, you might want to soak your hands in some warm water mixed with corn starch. I’ve found that’s very a good way of keeping your hands soft after hard use. Of course, you should follow it up with a quality hand lotion, but that’s a given.”

Harry nodded along, concentrating on shelling the peas, which were, quite frankly, more interesting. Lucius chatted on, unconcerned by Harry’s lack of attention. “Draco was terrible at shelling peas, too. Narcissa used to tell me that he did it on purpose so I wouldn’t give him peas to shell in the future, but I think that Draco just didn’t have a knack for peas. He used to make the best tomato flowers when he was younger, but he grew out of that right before he started to attend Hogwarts. Personally, I wanted him to go to Beauxbatons, which has an excellent culinary program to go along with its magical studies.”

Harry began to wish that Lucius would stop talking. He had a seemingly inexhaustible supply of words and sentences that didn’t even seem to be coalescing into stories. The man went on: “They have an actual auditorium too, did you know that? That’s something I missed at Hogwarts. I was in the Choir Club when I was a first year through fifth year. I got too busy after that with my Dark Arts extracurricular activities to continue, but it would have been really nice to have some place to perform other than the front steps. But Hogwarts wasn’t really built for anything other than magic. That’s why you have to hire a quality tutor to get any working knowledge of the real world.”

In an unusual flash of insight, Harry realized why he hadn’t been given the task of peeling potatoes. If he had a potato peeler in his hands at this moment, he would probably attempt to put it through Lucius’s left eye.

As Lucius’s voice continued to wash over him, Harry grew stiff, lethargic, and began having trouble stringing proper thoughts together in his head. It was very much like how he imagined a Dementor’s Kiss would be, though rather than his mouth, his soul was being sucked out of him through his ears. Time contracted to the number of seconds it took to de-shell one peapod and start another, and then stopped altogether.

“I think that’s enough,” said a smug voice from somewhere far above him.

Harry blinked, and looked up to find Snape’s hooked nose and greasy hair far too close for comfort. He longed to say something snappy and sarcastic, but found himself unable to engage his mouth. He gaped uncomprehendingly at Snape.

Snape smirked as he grabbed Harry’s wrist and dragged him out of the kitchen. “That’s better. Who’s a good little brain-dead automaton now?”

Oh Snape really does know how to break them. XD

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