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Author Topic: Rising Steam | Jasper  (Read 29 times)

* Tigran Razi

    (01/17/2025 at 01:22)
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A Sunday in mid-July
Early Afternoon


He’d already blurted out a whole rather embarrassing story about how he’d fallen on his bum as a child into muddy water with his legs folded when he was at his grandfather’s house.  Which resulted in his cousins teasing him saying he poop’ed his pants and naturally became even worse when one of his much older cousins had hit him with a stink transfiguration. 

Not being able to imagine what would come out next he attempted to grab his tea cup ignoring the fact it would likely burn his mouth as he drank it.  The problem with the tea cup is even though he choked a bit his cup was quickly empty.  There was no stopping him. 

He barely managed a breath before he blurted out “ Have you ever been to a farm.  I went to one once when I was in grammar school before Hogwarts.  It was the weirdest place and stunk.  I thought it would be like the seaside with all the fresh air as it wouldn’t be as crowded.  It wasn’t.  One of my classmates tried to pet a horse and it bit at him.  Well more gummed as it just got its blubbery lips on him.  When we got back me and one of my buddies got two long sticks, tied wet rags to one end and set up a center tie like my mom did to teach me to use chopsticks when I was a toddler.  Then we used it to grab the guys arm.  He screamed so bad. “

These were funny stories that he always stopped himself from telling Jasper because they were either embarrassing or would have details of the life he’d lived in the muggle world.  Things he wouldn’t normally mention.

Then he managed a breath before continuing again “ Now screaming let me tell you we screamed so hard when England won the World Cup.  I had to watch it on the telly, but I was at my friend Luca’s house and everyone was watching.  You could hear it thought the walls the neighbors screaming at every goal.  Then when the game “

As he breathed in he managed to stop himself from saying more.  A miracle as he’d been rambling on with various stories for minutes.  He just blinked looking between Jasper and the cauldron in front of him with the spoon he was holding.  A spoon that had a dampness from the steam rising from the cauldron.

* Jasper Spellbody

    (02/05/2025 at 04:11)
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Jasper was doing his best, his absolute best, not to laugh. But, Merlin’s beard, it was a struggle. Hank’s words just kept pouring out like a broken Veritaserum vial, one ridiculous tale after another, and all Jasper could do was nod.

“I see,” he murmured, stirring the cauldron with forced focus, biting the inside of his cheek. “Mm. Yes, I see.”

This was not how Tattletale Toads were supposed to work. They were meant to spill other people’s secrets, not turn their creator into an unfiltered chatterbox. Jasper’s eyes flickered to the vials of ingredients scattered on the worktable, and his gaze settled on the Whisperwood Sap.…Had they added too much?

He was about to suggest as much when Hank launched into yet another tale, this one about a childhood trip to a farm. Jasper’s hand froze mid-stir.

A farm? Grammar school? World Cup on the telly?

Jasper realized, perhaps for the first time, that there were entire portions of Hank’s life he’d never even heard about. Of course, he knew Hank had spent time in the Muggle world, but he’d never really thought about what that meant, what kind of stories his friend carried that Jasper had never been privy to.

The potion bubbled softly between them. He set the spoon down and finally let himself smile, not out of amusement this time, but something more thoughtful.

"Dear Hank," Jasper finally said, "I suspect we may have miscalculated something." He gestured toward the Whisperwood Sap bottle. "Unless you wanted to give our dear toads the ability to turn their owners into a confessional fountain.” He smirked. “In which case, I’d say we’ve succeeded spectacularly.”

One of the tiny ceramic toads let out a croak, almost as if it agreed.

Jasper leaned back, crossing his arms. "Now, before you tell me about the time you wrestled a garden gnome or had a run-in with a particularly aggressive goose, let’s fix this, shall we?"

He tapped his wand against a parchment filled with hastily scribbled notes, then reached for a vial labeled Starpetal Extract, a known suppressant for overactive enchantments and potion effects. “A few drops of this should balance things out. Unless, of course, you’d like to keep going? I certainly wouldn’t mind hearing more.”

He raised an eyebrow at Hank giving him a wink and a smirk, waiting.
a prank
 A DAY
keeps the dullness
 AWAY

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