WHO: Tracey Davis and Sullivan Burke. WHEN: 15 September 1997, late afternoon-ish. WHERE: Slytherin common room. SUMMARY: BEARS, OH MY. RATING: PG. STATUS: Completed log.
“Stupid thing.” Tracey sent another tack zooming towards her bear, pinging it neatly between its annoyingly blank and bovine eyes. Nodding with begrudging satisfaction, she retrieved the tack from the others she had dotted about the stuffed animal’s form, then dumped it rather unceremoniously to the floor in favour of her Arithmancy notes.
“How are you getting on back there?” she enquired over her shoulder to Sully.
Sully, staring down his freshly undressed bear, let out a sigh. His wand was aimed at the bear, but he hadn't managed to hit the bear with the tack yet, though not for lack of trying. He couldn't help it if his aim was woeful. Couldn't he just pay someone to do this for him? He was sure that's what he do in the really world and wasn't that the point of going to Hogwarts? To prepare young wizards and witches for the real world? Well Sully was quite sure he was already prepared.
Eyes narrowed, he said the spell and finally, the tack sunk into the plush bear. "Finally!" he exclaimed.
“Good, just think of what a woeful colour it is,” Tracey encouraged. “Both of ours look like they’ve got some sort of skin disease, don’t you think? Blaise’s bear is really quite dapper in comparison.”
She paused, her quill poised an inch above a fresh sheet of parchment. Something smelled a bit off, as if someone had left a bushel of apples in their trunk and then forgotten about them. It was there, tantalisingly, but not quite strong enough to place either the smell or the source. She shrugged and turned back to her homework.
“It’s not fair at all! Why couldn’t we pick our own bears?” he lamented. Of course, by now, he was tired of going over it all for probably the hundredth time. He had moved on to hoping his would somehow spontaneously combust somehow. At least he didn’t have a problem trying to hit it with tacks, he though, pausing and then sending another one at it. His aim was improving.
Then he noticed the smell, too. He sniffed at the air a littler deeper than normal and then made a disgusted face. “Do you smell that?”
“Yeah, it-” Tracey sought out the words to describe it “-smells as if someone’s come in from Care of Magical Creatures and forgotten to take off their wellies. Or how I imagine the inside of a boys’ changing room to be - no offense,” she added quickly. Although, were Sully a starter on the Slytherin team, there would soon be clusters of colour coordinated potpouri and scented candles tucked about the place, making it possibly the nicest changing room in the history of Quidditch.
“Ugh.” She produced her wand, preparing to cast an air freshening charm. “It’s get worse and worse.”
Ah yes, the smell from Care of Magical Creatures was definitely a big reason why Sully had dropped it this year. He held his nose as it seemed to be getting worse. Then he noticed something leaking from his bear.
“What’s that?” he asked, pointing towards his bear with his free hand.
“I think that’s the source.” She leant in to confirm her suspicions, then jerked back hastily, her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Merlin, what’s yours doing? What’s mine doing? Ugh, that’s disgusting!” Indeed, sap appeared to be oozing out of the bears, like a block of cheese left too long in the sun. And smelling just as rancid too.
This was all just too much for Sullivan and he did what any other sensible man would do in his situation. He screamed. A few times for good measure.
Then he regained his senses. “I’m going to throw this horrible thing in the lake,” he said calmly.
Tracey’s scarf was by now tugged up over the lower half of her face, which hid her wince as Sully screamed. Great, just great. “If you do that then you’ll fail,” she said, though with the fabric obstruction, it sounded like she was talking with a severely blocked nose. Which would have been just the thing to have at this moment, actually. She flicked out her wand, casting a non-verbal Scourgify. It removed the sap coating the carpet around the bears, though they still both continued to sweat out the ghastly stuff.
“Let’s find somewhere to put them in, and then see if anyone else is having this problem,” she suggested.
Sully almost felt bad for screaming around Tracey. Almost. But he was more fixating on doing something to stop the bear from leaking that foul-smelling substance. Tracey spoke sense and he nodded. “I can’t put it in my trunk like I have been doing. What else would work?”
He wondered if just wrapping it up in a bunch of old towels like a mummy would work.
“Maybe enlarge a jar and seal it? I’ve got a couple I use to put portable fires in for when I’m studying outside.” Though Tracey was loathe to use her precious jars for such a thing. They were intended for tranquil Saturday afternoons, for picnic blankets with a pot of tea at her elbow and a textbook open on her lap. Once again, the ridiculous creature was interfering with her schedule, her normal way of life.
Well that sounded fine to Sully. It was definitely a better idea than tossing the thing into a lake where it would probably just somehow manage to come back to him and then drown him in his sleep. Somehow.
He nodded. “Jars, then.”
“Jars it is,” Tracey agreed. She would find two, enlarge them, and hopefully the creatures wouldn’t disturb them halfway through the night, rapping on the glass with their furry little fists to be let out...