Fluff! Get your fresh fluff here! Fluff going spare! We have fluff coming out of our ears! Another short and pointless L/J fic that doesn't really require much thought so I'm writing it during my exams just to keep myself going! More chapters to come. Free fluff anyone?

I don't own anything except the concepts you've never heard of before. I wonder how much money I'd get for them. . . J K Rowling owns the plasticine; I just play with it.

Please don't sue me; I am only a fourteen-year-old with a word-processor and a copy of the New Penguin English Dictionary.

And now, our feature presentation. . .

~*~One~*~Portrait To Fat Lady, Come in Fat Lady. . .~*~

"As I said Vi, if he's always putting that blasted pony before you in your relationship, I'd tell him just where to stick that sword of his! And it WON'T be in a freshly mowed lawn, make no mistake. There'll be no grass growing there without sunlight. . .well, there shouldn't be anyway."

Vi stirred her tea in a sad way, tapping it on the side of her cup and setting it down on her saucer.

"I don't know, Etta," she sighed, absent-mindedly staring off the edge of the café table at the pink silk dress her companion was wearing. "He says a lot of things Caddy, you know he does, and sometimes he seems very. . ."

"Mental?" supplied Humphreyetta.

"Pardon?" Vi said.

"Gentle?" repeated her amply built companion.

"Yes. I'm so very confused."

They made a very odd couple. Although both dressed in wide skirted silk dresses, one could be mistaken as a wedding carriage, the other a pencil in a mug. One was brunette, the other almost blindingly blonde, and the difference in pitch in their voices would have been sufficient to write an opera with.

"It was awfully good of you to come out with me in my hour of need," remarked Vi lightly, "Aren't you needed tonight?"

"No, no, dear, the seventh years are having a party, nobody's going to coming out of that fray until very late tomorrow morning, and those who do go out won't be coming back in until very late tomorrow morning, if you know what I mean, dear." Vi sniggered, then sighed. The wider companion rolled her eyes.

"Well, my advice, Vi dear," she said, "Is not to let it get you down; it's only a phase I should think, and anyway, plenty more colours in the paint pallet." She suddenly seemed to remember something and leaned forward with a sly smile, making her already portly cheeks swell. "Besides, I hear old Dumbledore has picked up a leaflet for that art exhibition on Michelangelo's "David"." Vi gasped with her hand to her chest.

"Shall we get him to buy a canvas?" she asked, big, blue eyes wide with excitement.

"Oh, too expensive, Vi, you know what those things go for," Humphreyetta said. Vi's face fell a little. "Personally I'd prefer a little postcard, more. . .cosy if we ever were to visit the famous David," she continued in a voice that was practically nudging Vi in the ribs with its elbow and winking suggestively. Vi burst into giggles.

"D'you think he'd really pin it up for us?" she struggled to ask through her bubblings of glee.

"Precisely what I was thinking, my dear Violet, preferably next to Cadogan's painting!"

The two of them attracted quite some attention in the small, Paris café on the fifth floor, giggling manically so their smart, flowered hats fell off and floated to the cobbled ground.

"Oh, Etta, you are a dear!" Vi exclaimed passionately, her hand still on her chest as her giggles deflated. "You always know just what to say and what advice to give when anyone has relationship problems."

"Oh don't, Vi, you make me blush!" smiled Etta, picking up her hat and holding it to the side of her face which was open to the street, if the artist had included it in the canvas.

"Don't be so modest, Etta, you helped Darren Detritus out of his landscape and in getting the attentions of that Wood Nymph in the Head Girl's Bathroom. Now they're expecting little trolls with wings."

Vi stopped abruptly when her friend's head turned sharply. Well, the neck turned the skull, but it took a little time for the movement to reach things like the distant chins and cheeks.

"What is it Etta? Someone outside your tower?" she asked, a little concerned. Etta seemed to be translating some sort of radar inside her head.

"Yes, Vi, seems a bit serious. Apparently someone's trying to out-run someone else. I'm afraid I'll have to go, Slytherins may be involved."


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