Lil Debbie and I
He stared at the invite in his hands. He didn't think there was a day that Hogwarts would ever have him back. Not after that kid was crucio'd, not after he spent many a-days drinking moonshine in the classroom and getting downright wasted, not after he threatened the children. Maybe Solomon finally had a change of heart. His wife had seen the letter too, and was ready to provide. Her only condition was that she comes as well.
Er... this might be awkward if Nancy or Sarai sees that he had a wife all along. Hopefully Nora went crazy like she did with him and fired them. It'd be less awkward. "Yes, honey. Come with me, I'll be happy if you're there."
--- fast forwarding through portkey magic, i hate writing that sorta magic so I'm gonna move on ---
They arrived in Hogsmeade, Debbie was going to reserve a room briefly, also to ask other questions such as 'do you have lobsters in the kitchen?' Elmo was not sticking around to listen. He didn't make the food, but he did sell.
He made a quick pit stop at Honeydukes, grabbed some candies and sweets, even the disgusting little chocolate frogs all those little boys and girls seemed to love and cherish.
When he was done, he met Debbie outside and in her hands were a basket of Lobster and Maine Blueberry sweets and goodies, and in Elmo's, the stuff you'd find at Honeydukes. Oh, it was time to rip these damned children off.
He watched his wife adjust the straps to the wicker basket as they made their way up the sloping hills to the castle. Hogwarts had looked the same as it always had; proud, drafty and judgmental.
As they approached the Grounds, Elmo watched his wife cradle the basket in her arms like a newborn. Elmo looked down at his arms and it was just busy holding a crap ton of stuff together, no bags or basket or box being used.
He looked around, he wasn't going to be in the Grounds, he didn't paint or fly or anything. Not for a career. He did sell food, and that in itself was worth going to the Great Hall for. So... he went to the Great Hall. If he wasn't supposed to be there, well. SUPRISE!
Let's see how many of these students actually remembered him as the best History of Magic professor to date. Debbie only gave passerbys a soft smile, the kind housewives in the 1950s films and tv shows had. When Elmo got into the Great Hall, he took over the Slytherin table, the side closest to the doors, as if it would magically summon students and maybe gain him some profit.
He looked around for a piece of paper, and found a poster for a club, flipped it over to use the backside and realized he didn't have something to write with. Fine. He might as well use flame writing to call attention to his 'booth'. Using his nonverbal and wandless ability and Flagrate, written above Debbie's head and their little station, would be "Break Family Co. Special Deals"
If it weren't obvious enough, he added an underline under 'special deals' promising students a deal that clearly wasn't intended to drain their vault account faster than the presence of air around a vacuum.
"Oh Debbie, don't hate me if I'm downright nasty to these people, it's just a marketing strategy, how do you think I bring home wads of cash for us when I go out with products?"Selling: Lobster Fudge, Lobster Saltwater Taffy, Lobster Caramel Bites, Lobster Maple Brittle, Lobster Cream Truffles, Maine Blueberry Mini Hand Pies, Maine Blueberry Honey Drops, Main Blueberry Buttercream Fudge, Maine Blueberry Lemon Bonbons, Maine Blueberry Soda, Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Fizzing Whizzbees, Pepper Imps, Sugar Quills
You've gotta break some eggs to make an omlette, something something.
Lil Debbie and I
Vale, in all her signature glory, was grabbing fists full of candy and simply eating them without a care. She smacked her mouth loudly, as if studying the very taste of the candies themselves despite mixing them all in one size 4 cauldron of a mouth. She stopped, staring into space, her black lipstick somehow unsmeared and her black, long nails still clean from the sweet, gooey residue she had decided to partake in.
"These are not homemade." She was blunt in her observation. "I taste no lobster." Lobster Cream Truffles. A sniff, "Do you have any trash flavor beans, separate?" Her amber eyes scanned the pile of sweets, still willing to consume the various treats despite her preference for real foods, like flobberworm fritters.
As if she were a bizarre reptile, she noodled around the booth, inspecting and eating more sweets without permission. A blueberry buttercream fudge. "Blueberry. Homemade. Not enough lemon juice. Need more heat, less time." A slither, another sniff. Swallowed whole, a blueberry handpie. "Aren't you the professor who killed a child? Need more vanilla. Add orange zest." Vale twisted her head around, taking a splurge for the rest of the booth. She will not stop, unless she is told to, verbally or physically.
"Can you see thestrals? Father said he can take me to go ride one when I see my first death." A one-track mind? Vale twisted her head again, sniffing, eyes blinking. "I haven't killed anyone yet. What is it like? Would you do it again? How do you recommend hiding a body? I asked for an Azkaban Prisoner to be invited for the day, but I was told no. This-" Vale suddenly gagged out a honeydrop onto the floor. "Not homemade. The factory had changed its recipe to use fewer ingredients." Vale continued to race around the stall, enjoying more sweets that she'd likely not have enough funds to repay for.
Mentions | @Elmo Break
Lil Debbie and I
Elmo's teeth gritted on itself, his entire profit margin dwindling just because she was acting like a starving kneazle! At the words she spat out of her mouth, Elmo heard tiny gasps from his wife's mouths, and it seemed like she was hurt. Her smile had faltered, just a sliver and it was the kind that Elmo noticed because he was a good husband, au contrare to what most thought.
Her hand had drifted to her stomach, her palm resting there like she was steadying herself. Or.. steadying something. Elmo leaned in with his ever-so-famous low and warm gentle voice that absolutely none of these children deserved.
"Hey, don't listen to her, sweetheart. You make good things. They're better than good." His thumb brushed her elbow, and he straightened up and turned towards Vale. "People with no manners and class always think they're critics." His smile sharpened and the softness left him like steam off a cauldron.
"You got a real talent, kid. What's your name again? Angie Vines? A real talent for eating things that aren't yours." He spat, "And for asking questions you aren't old enough to understand."
Vale had asked if he killed a kid! Why would he confess to that? He'd rather confess to crucioing a child, which he did! She asked if he would do it again. If he could see those stupid invisible winged horses and if he knew how to hide a body. God, this girl was a bloody lunatic, how was she not carted off to St. Mungos!
Elmo only snorted as a response that countered his thoughts. "Do you really think death is a hobby? Like chocolate frog cards, they're something to trade? And for the record, if I killed a child, it would have probably been..." He shut his mouth as he turned to meet Debbie's gaze that practically told him to not say what she thought he was going to say.
He picked up the honeydrop off the floor. "If you grab another sweet without a reasonable answer I'll have no choice but to chase down Headmaster Lear and Nirvana if she's still employed here and demand that I get compensated for all of the consumables you ruined with your lack of tastebuds." Oh the days he wanted to bring his Jack Daniels...
He tossed the honeydrop in Vale's direction, hoping it'd get tangled in her hair as he turned to soften his voice as he spoke to Debbie. "Sit down a minute, honey. You look tired. You shouldn't be.. standing so much.. these days. Not today." He didn't want to elaborate. No one else knew, not even his father, so he didn't want to spill the beans.
He counted the candies in twelves, then looked back at Vale, trying to snap his disgust off his face and be soft to this disrespectful lady. "Vale. That's your name right? Fourth.... year? Liked to write essays about death or something or do I have you mixed up with another weird child?" He figured he might as well continue the conversation until someone else came or until she left. "Why did you stop here?" His tone was half genuine, half forced. But he had to look good in front of his wife.
@Vale Ashwood
Her hand had drifted to her stomach, her palm resting there like she was steadying herself. Or.. steadying something. Elmo leaned in with his ever-so-famous low and warm gentle voice that absolutely none of these children deserved.
"Hey, don't listen to her, sweetheart. You make good things. They're better than good." His thumb brushed her elbow, and he straightened up and turned towards Vale. "People with no manners and class always think they're critics." His smile sharpened and the softness left him like steam off a cauldron.
"You got a real talent, kid. What's your name again? Angie Vines? A real talent for eating things that aren't yours." He spat, "And for asking questions you aren't old enough to understand."
Vale had asked if he killed a kid! Why would he confess to that? He'd rather confess to crucioing a child, which he did! She asked if he would do it again. If he could see those stupid invisible winged horses and if he knew how to hide a body. God, this girl was a bloody lunatic, how was she not carted off to St. Mungos!
Elmo only snorted as a response that countered his thoughts. "Do you really think death is a hobby? Like chocolate frog cards, they're something to trade? And for the record, if I killed a child, it would have probably been..." He shut his mouth as he turned to meet Debbie's gaze that practically told him to not say what she thought he was going to say.
He picked up the honeydrop off the floor. "If you grab another sweet without a reasonable answer I'll have no choice but to chase down Headmaster Lear and Nirvana if she's still employed here and demand that I get compensated for all of the consumables you ruined with your lack of tastebuds." Oh the days he wanted to bring his Jack Daniels...
He tossed the honeydrop in Vale's direction, hoping it'd get tangled in her hair as he turned to soften his voice as he spoke to Debbie. "Sit down a minute, honey. You look tired. You shouldn't be.. standing so much.. these days. Not today." He didn't want to elaborate. No one else knew, not even his father, so he didn't want to spill the beans.
He counted the candies in twelves, then looked back at Vale, trying to snap his disgust off his face and be soft to this disrespectful lady. "Vale. That's your name right? Fourth.... year? Liked to write essays about death or something or do I have you mixed up with another weird child?" He figured he might as well continue the conversation until someone else came or until she left. "Why did you stop here?" His tone was half genuine, half forced. But he had to look good in front of his wife.
@Vale Ashwood
You've gotta break some eggs to make an omlette, something something.
Lil Debbie and I
Vale ignored the unpleasant comments dished her way. She kept smacking her lips, still studying the textures and aftermath tastes from the candies she have devoured.
"Vale Ashwood. Fifth Year. Heiress to the Ashwood potioneering business. I make essays on murders, actually. More profitable and easy to have a career in just plain death though. Like grave digging, poison making, all that fun stuff. Just being a murderer, well, my father always say never make a career out of a hobby." Vale twisted her head, studying more of the booth at hand. She looked back at the woman in question. "Add more vanilla and orange to your pies. They make wondrous treats on their own, but will capture an enhancing taste that won't be easy to forget after a single bite." A pause, then a sniff. "Candy-making is a craft that welcomes beginners towards the art of potioneering. With strict guidance, a sure-fire wayfarer can become a true master of their own." A strangely smart quote from a girl who finds flobberworm fritters as a true delicacy.
"I'll take the rest of those handpies, along with the separated trash-flavored beans. My father will put in an order for one hundred of these pies-no. One hundred twenty-three, for a cater party in the next week or two. Business investors. And buyers. Lots of buyers. They are picky. Taste testers and all." Vale squirmed a bit, searching her person before finally pulling out a surprisingly professional, gold-laced business card. "My father's business card. How much do I owe you for the treats that aren't a scam?" A lick of her lips, she was done smacking.
"My father loves liars and cheaters and potential mass murderers. He will keep in touch with you. So will I." Vale went back to sniffing around.
Mentions | @Elmo Break
Lil Debbie and I
Elmo wasn't shocked when she mentioned the interest for liars, cheaters and slaughterers. Of course, he thought the family was weird after the mentions, but as he grabbed the business card, he looked at her face and put on a monotone, almost bored look with a flat and unimpressed tone. "Right. One hundred twenty three pies. I'll send him a letter, and I will be fining him in addition with all of the foods you ate."
The faux muppet reached out to shake her hand. "As for how much all of this would cost. Well. 304 galleons. These aren't cheap! I demand that the money be in my vault by tommorow, or you will be prohibited from even having a little nibble ever again!" He heard Debbie let out a small laugh, the kind that indicated that she only laughed out of politeness but he could tell she was trying not to faint.
Elmo flicked his eyes towards her immediately. She was still sitting with her hand on her stomach again with her thumb rubbing small circles she probably didn't know she was making.
He looked back at Vale. Fine. Maybe 304 was a clear ripoff. He looked at Debbie. He looked at the products. He looked back at her stomach.
He'll just rip off the muggles later. "Fifty galleons. For what you ate." Debbie and him would need the financial support, especially when dear ol daddy Break cut them off.
He stepped off to the side briefly, lowering his voice to Vale so his wife couldn't hear. "All I ask is that you be aware that the baked goods are all made by my wife with care and love, and right now, she has..." How could he word it without explicitly saying it... "Someone to look after when I'm not around."
@Vale Ashwood
The faux muppet reached out to shake her hand. "As for how much all of this would cost. Well. 304 galleons. These aren't cheap! I demand that the money be in my vault by tommorow, or you will be prohibited from even having a little nibble ever again!" He heard Debbie let out a small laugh, the kind that indicated that she only laughed out of politeness but he could tell she was trying not to faint.
Elmo flicked his eyes towards her immediately. She was still sitting with her hand on her stomach again with her thumb rubbing small circles she probably didn't know she was making.
He looked back at Vale. Fine. Maybe 304 was a clear ripoff. He looked at Debbie. He looked at the products. He looked back at her stomach.
He'll just rip off the muggles later. "Fifty galleons. For what you ate." Debbie and him would need the financial support, especially when dear ol daddy Break cut them off.
He stepped off to the side briefly, lowering his voice to Vale so his wife couldn't hear. "All I ask is that you be aware that the baked goods are all made by my wife with care and love, and right now, she has..." How could he word it without explicitly saying it... "Someone to look after when I'm not around."
@Vale Ashwood
You've gotta break some eggs to make an omlette, something something.
Lil Debbie and I
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Interacting With: @Vale Ashwood, @Elmo Break ✰Mentioning: @Vale Ashwood, @Elmo Break ✰Speaking: #115f3d ✰
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The sweets caught her attention first.
There was a sign that said "Deals" above a stall near the Slytherin table. Rosy saw some Honeydukes products but there were also many treats she had never seen before.
She got curious.
Rosy adjusted her bag and walked closer to the stall. She slowed down when she heard a strange conversation.
A black haired girl was standing at the booth trying different sweets and saying what was wrong with them. Rosy blinked a few times as she listened.
The conversation was some pretty weird stuff. Murder essays, body disposal and thestrals. Rosy forgot why she came over.
The conversation was really strange.
She looked at Vale the person running the stall and a woman sitting nearby. The atmosphere felt tense. Rosy wasn't sure if anyone was really upset or just used to talking like that.
Rosy wasn't sure she wanted to know.
But then there was a break in the conversation so she spoke up.
"Hi " she said. "Are people buying candy here or am I interrupting a meeting?"
She smiled a little.
Her question wasn't entirely a joke.
She looked at the blueberry hand pies that the haired girl had criticized. They looked good.
"I've never seen half of these sweets before " Rosy said. "Especially the lobster ones. I'm not sure if lobster belongs in sweets. Now I'm curious."
She folded her arms.
"That's either a sign or a bad sign."
Rosy thought about the 123 pies. She couldn't imagine needing that desserts.
"Who needs 123 pies?" she wondered. "That sounds like they're preparing for an event."
She looked at Debbie, who was quieter than the others. Rosy smiled at her.
"The blueberry sweets look amazing " she said. "Those must have taken a lot of work to make."
Rosy looked at the labels.
"If I try one thing " she thought, "what's the safest option, for someone who doesn't usually eat candy?"
She smiled a little.
"Because I don't think I should ask either of you for recommendations. You might give me answers."
Rosy. Pulled out some coins.
She wanted to leave with a sweet and understand why Hogwarts students always had conversations.
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Coded by: @Avery Gray
Lil Debbie and I
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23th June, 2026
Great Hall
Interacting with: @Elmo Break @Vale Ashwood @Rosy Parker
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Speech -- Thoughts
Pam had wandered past the stall before she found herself turning back to look at it again.
The Great Hall was crowded, loud and buzzing in a way that made it difficult to focus on any one thing for very long. Everywhere she looked there seemed to be another booth, another activity, another person trying to draw attention to themselves.
This one had succeeded.
Mostly because of the floating words written in flame above it.
'Special Deals'
Pam stopped, eyes trailing over the goodies on display. Lobster... lobster.... more lobster.
Pam didn't even like lobster.
Blueberry!
She stepped closer to study the pies and fudge, and a snatch of conversation floated over to her.
"My father loves liars and cheaters and potential mass murderers. He will keep in touch with you. So will I."
Pam blinked.
Then blinked again.
Then decided she did not care for that conversation at the moment.
Her eyes then drifted over to the lady who was seemingly not engaged in conversation. Pam flashed her a small smile, "Hi."
"Can I please have a blueberry pie?" Pam asked, hand fishing into her pocket for her money. "Oh, and a Blueberry Buttercream Fudge too please."
"Is Maine a place...?" she mused. "Where is it...?"
Pam's geography was terrible.
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"I'd rather be heartless, than have my heart in pieces"
-Calming Presence- The Muggle Condition
iNPC: Hikari Fujimoto
Lil Debbie and I
Mentions: @Nancy McLoughlin @Vale AshwoodElmo's gaze moved from Vale to the other two girls. He should be happy that he was finally approached by two sort of normal children. He cleared his throat and straightened his posture, because clearly they weren't straight enough, and he pushed her basket a little closer to her. He leaned in to whisper, "Hey, Debs, please don't think you have to do everything. I want to make sure you are comfortable and that you are doing what you want to do."
He answered Rosy, his voice flat, no longer a whisper. "Meeting? No. Just business. And.." He looked at Vale quickly before his gaze met Rosy's again. "babysitting, apparently."
He gestured at the wide variety of consumables. "Please, buy something." At the blueberry section, he pointed at the hand pies. "These are probably the safest options for you. Sixteen galleons, but if you compliment my wife, it's 3 galleons. If you get Nancy in the next hour, I'll let you have it for free." He met Debbie's perplexed look.
"Honey, who is Nancy?"
"She means nothing to me. I wanted you to meet someone who kept trying to get me to cheat on you while I was employed here." Elmo's gaze didn't move from the girls as he didn't want his wife to see his obvious signs of deceit.
Debbie didn't seem like she'd drop it, but there was probably a mature person inside because she didn't seem to press. She looked at Rosy and smiled at her. She stood up and one of her hands stayed on her belly, the other one on her lower back.
Pam's question about the geography of the location called his attention. "Maine is a state in the United States of America. We live in Bar Harbor, a city in Maine. We get lots of lobsters and Maine is known for their blueberries."
He tried not to pay attention to those who sampled because he knew if he fussed at them about it, he would probably send them flying into the back wall of the Great Hall and he needn't let his rage get the better of him.
"Debbie, honey, please sit down!" Elmo cried out, a tone that sounded a bit like sympathy or compassion in his voice was vibrant as he handed the girls exactly what they asked for and rang them up. Actually, he only rang Pamela's order. "25 galleons."
Interacting With: @Pamela Graham @Rosy Parker
You've gotta break some eggs to make an omlette, something something.
Lil Debbie and I
And just like that, Vale was quick to snatch more treats for her own benefit and took off without another word once she felt eyes were off of her. She was beginning to sharpen her talent for getting away with crimes, at least she thought so. Only for her to snatch up lobster candies by mistake. Hm. Sweets were bad for her health anyway, at least her mother says so. She'd best stick to her Flobberworm Fritters and other, nutritional valued foods-aaaand another lobster. She took to ignoring the other girl's comment regarding lobsters not belonging in sweets. What would she possibly know about the belongings of anything? If it says lobster, lobster should be in it. Vale decided on her own that the fake sweets are free by default. It's only fair to scam a scammer.
Vale smacked her lips together, mixing up her newly stolen pastries to at least make the reward surprising in choice. What a strange man, that 'Break' was. Instead of making a living by breaking spines (muggles apparently had a professional for that. She'd have to ask a magbob later on what that was again), he deals out candy to children. Surely the pay would be far more ideal. But you know what they say, enjoy your job and you never work a day in your life. Though Vale couldn't understand the preference for scamming children over breaking the spines of people willing to pay for it.
"Mister Break!" Vale shouted from a distance. "When you stop by again, make sure to kill children in front of me instead next time! I'm trying to see thestrals! Oh and uh...sorry for the sweets, and criticizing the sweets. Father will pay you back the amount you asked for! Uh...304 Galleons? That's rather awfully cheap...you sure you're a scammer?" And with that, Vale took off with a crackle.
Vale left the thread.
Mentions | @Elmo Break
Lil Debbie and I
mentioning ; @Elmo Break
wordcount ; 359
career day ; notes
There was still the clamor of the Great Hall but as Vale’s voice died, a different tension grew in the air around Elmo’s stall. Murder essays. Thestrals.
And Vale’s strange, bloodcurdling scream about killing children.
The hairs on Denisse’s arm prickled and her stomach churned. Katya pressed against her shin, her ears flattened and sleek silver ears bent forward as if to offer protection.
She stared at the table of goodies. Lobster fudge. Blueberry pies.
Truffles and bonbons.
A decidedly unusual mixture, to say the least. A Lobster-free sweet would seem rather an overstatement. Rosy had made the same remark earlier and Denisse’s stomach had given a little lurch of agreement. Katya took a whiff of the air and turned away with a disgusted snort.
Debbie sat behind Elmo, one hand resting on the small, pregnant swell of her belly. It was her attention to the way that Elmo, while snapping with vitriol at Vale just minutes before, softened in tone when addressing her that truly struck Denisse. Harshness toward students but tenderness to her.
Rosy and Pamala had attempted to smooth the waters with inquiries about the pies and fudge but Denisse had watched them, amazed at their bravery. Denisse had remained frozen, afraid to step closer yet too curious to retreat.
She hadn’t taken any sweet, hadn’t proffered a coin. Too much remained unsettled by Vale’s outburst. But there was a question that she did pose: “Do you ever think how your food represents you? If it shows who you are or just what you're selling?”
Katya, on the spur of the moment, launched herself onto the bench next to Denisse and coiled her long, silver tail around Denisse’s wrist. She gently ran a finger along its smooth curve, but her eyes remained fixed upon the sweet stall. Even now, Denisse knew the answer that she had already been given.
This particular path was not hers to walk. She had seen the sweat of honest labor and the gentle dignity of the woman behind Elmo, but the air had too much grit to be a bakery. She drew back into herself, murmur to herself, "not for me."
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