white_hart (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
white_hart) wrote2007-10-25 07:56 pm
white_hart) wrote2007-10-25 07:56 pm
Entry tags:
Archers crackfic
Arrant nonsense from start to finish. The Archers is a fly-on-the-wall documentary about country folk owned by the BBC; the Potterverse belongs to J K Rowling.
Albus Dumbledore had always been a patient man, but that patience was being sorely tried by his week's holiday at Ambridge Hall. Get away from it all, that was what he'd thought; stay among Muggles, where no-one knew who he was and that awful Skeeter woman wouldn't think to look. Enjoy the peace and quiet of the country.
But if it wasn't that awful Snell woman insisting that the bed had to be just there, even though it was in the most awful draught, it was the landlord of the Bull glowering at him over the bar, or the landlady thrusting her insufficiently-covered chest towards him despite his fairly obvious lack of interest. And then there was the awful woman who he never saw without a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other, who seemed to want to talk to him about interior decoration for some unfathomable reason.
The final straw came when he was trying to take a quiet walk on Lakey Hill, and was unfortunate enough to slip on a cowpat. He was sure the woman with the small children coming in the opposite direction was sincerely sympathetic, but for some reason her loud exclamation of dismay set his nerves jangling.
Reaching for his wand, he muttered an incantation and then Disapparated back to Hogwarts, leaving Ruth Archer staring open-mouthed as the first of what proved to be a substantial rain of codfish fell on to the village.
Albus Dumbledore had always been a patient man, but that patience was being sorely tried by his week's holiday at Ambridge Hall. Get away from it all, that was what he'd thought; stay among Muggles, where no-one knew who he was and that awful Skeeter woman wouldn't think to look. Enjoy the peace and quiet of the country.
But if it wasn't that awful Snell woman insisting that the bed had to be just there, even though it was in the most awful draught, it was the landlord of the Bull glowering at him over the bar, or the landlady thrusting her insufficiently-covered chest towards him despite his fairly obvious lack of interest. And then there was the awful woman who he never saw without a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other, who seemed to want to talk to him about interior decoration for some unfathomable reason.
The final straw came when he was trying to take a quiet walk on Lakey Hill, and was unfortunate enough to slip on a cowpat. He was sure the woman with the small children coming in the opposite direction was sincerely sympathetic, but for some reason her loud exclamation of dismay set his nerves jangling.
Reaching for his wand, he muttered an incantation and then Disapparated back to Hogwarts, leaving Ruth Archer staring open-mouthed as the first of what proved to be a substantial rain of codfish fell on to the village.