Work Text:
Fandom: Harry Potter
Side Pairings: Cornelius Fudge/Rosmerta Fudge; mentions of Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald; and mentions of past Cornelius Fudge/Doroles Umbridge
Side Relationship: Cornelius Fudge and Albus Dumbledore
Warnings: alternate universe; het; no one has magic; everyone is a muggle; gen; background mentions of slash; and pet-names
Prompt: (Word) Popular
Summary: In which Cornelius Fudge wanted to enjoy snacks and air conditioning while he graded. Apparently that was asking too much.
Cornelius' Horrible Afternoon
It was an unusually warm, bright and sunny day. Cornelius Fudge loosened his tie in an attempt to cool down. While it allowed him a little breathing room, it didn’t have the effect he wanted. He wanted a way to cool down fast – and right now, damn it !
He nearly signed in relief at the sight of his favorite coffee shop, Three Mugs. With a small smile, he increased his pace, nearly feeling the urge to skip. Of course, he won’t skip. People – his students – could witness it, and Cornelius won’t dare allow that. He had an image to maintain! It was bad enough there was that popular video of him on YouTube. The video was nearly ten years old, showing Cornelius drunk and singing karaoke with Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald.
Cornelius shook his head, forcing thoughts of Albus’ bachelor party and his wedding to Gellert from his mind. Luckily, all those thoughts vanished the moment Cornelius stepped foot inside his favorite coffee shop with its magnificent air conditioning. It was like heaven!
After savoring the air conditioning for a moment, he headed over to the small line. The people in front of him were quick to place their orders. That was another thing he liked. He hated it when people waited until they were at the register to look at the menu and decide what they wanted to order. It was like they were oblivious to the line forming behind them – and the people trying to wait patiently.
But that wasn’t happening today.
That made Cornelius smile a little.
“Good afternoon, professor,” greeted Gabrielle Delacour. She was one of his most promising students, and she was so pretty .
“Miss Delacour,” he greeted. He forgot she worked here. Having a student work at his favorite coffee shop was enough to make him briefly consider finding a new one. But it was quickly discarded. “I’ll take an iced black tea with peach and three blueberry scones.”
The blonde nodded, pushing buttons on the register. “That will be ten thirty-nine,” she told him.
He handed over his credit card.
As she ran it, he decided he was feeling generous today so he dropped a few coins in the tip jar. The card was handed back and he walked over to a table.
Taking a seat, Cornelius found himself smiling. He was so looking forward to those scones. Molly Weasley was an excellent baker.
“Corny!” called the familiar voice of his wife. That was her lecturing tone!
A sense of panic filled him. What had he done wrong? He went over his mental checklist. Her birthday was in a few months and their anniversary was after that. He hadn’t left the toilet seat up in ages . He picked up the dog poop last night. Last week, he purchased her favorite flowers – orchids – for “no reason” and a delivery of roses was scheduled for tomorrow.
He made a mental note to send his new graduate student a “thank you” card. Percy Weasley was doing wonders for his personal life.
What was it? What had he done wrong?
Looking up, he found Rosmerta standing next to him with her arms crossed as she glared.
“Yes, sweetums?” he asked, trying to play innocent. As far as his wife was concerned he was guilty of something, he just didn’t know what .
“You know you aren’t allowed to have gluten,” she scolded. “Doctor Pomfrey was very clear !”
Cornelius resisted the urge to argue with his wife. It was useless, and he would only be punished further . “Yes, sweetums,” he muttered. He was making plans to purchase scones somewhere else. No one – his wife included – would keep him from scones!
“You’re in luck,” he wife continued, her expression brightening. “Molly makes gluten-free muffins.” With a smile, she presented her husband with a pink plate with two blueberry muffins.
He nearly scowled at the sight of the plate. His wife knew very well that he didn’t like pink – largely due to his pyscho ex-girlfriend. Instead of looking at the plate, he tried to study the muffins. He wanted scones! “That’s lovely,” he agreed, remembering to play his part as the dutiful husband that knows to agree with his wife, even if she’s wrong .
Smile in place, Rosmerta sat the plate down. “Try one,” she urged.
Trying to gather his courage, he reached out with a trembling hand and he picked up a muffin. Slowly, he brought it to his nose, smelling it. It smelled like blueberries.
Daring to look up, he found his wife was watching and smiling. She really wanted him to eat this blasted muffin.
There was a brief internal debate: eat the muffin, like a good husband or refuse and be punished . It was an easy choice. The muffin was dropped back onto the plate. He was being punished either way! He wasn’t going to eat this blasted muffin.
Rosmerta frowned. “Aren’t you going to eat that?” she asked.
“No,” Cornelius replied. “I don’t want a muffin. I want a scone.”
“They’re the same thing,” his wife scowled.
He shook his head. There was a huge difference between scones and muffins, and scones were better.
His wife’s scowl deepened. “If you like the muffins, I’m sure Molly would be happy to bake you scones,” she tried to reason with him.
“I want scones!” he declared, sounding a little childish.
Glaring at her husband, Rosmerta stated, “Prove me wrong and tell me how that muffin is different from a scone.”
That was a challenge! Like he was going to fall for that trick! He was one step ahead of her. Cornelius looked at his wife as he grabbed the muffin. He took a huge bite, staring into her eyes as he chewed it. He was horrified to admit the muffin was good, but it was nowhere near as good as a scone.
“A scone has flaky layers,” he told his wife. He liked those flaky layers. In the privacy of his office, he liked to pull those layers apart.
Rosmerta turned and walked away, shaking her head.
With his wife gone, Cornelius eagerly finished the muffins. They were gone quickly. Feeling thirsty, he looked around. Where was his tea? Glancing over the table, he found his wife hadn’t brought his tea out.
Standing up, Cornelius walked over to the pick-up bar where it was waiting. He grabbed it, headed back to his table.
“Have a good day, Corny!” called Miss Delacour with a wide smile.
Cornelius stopped, turning to stare at his student in horror.
“I’ll see you in class on Wednesday!” she added.
Turning, Cornelius returned to his table in a daze. He grabbed his bag before leaving the coffee shop. He was definitely finding a new place because he knew he wouldn’t be able to convince his wife to fire Miss Delacour.
As he walked down the street, headed back to his office in Ravenclaw Hall, a bright banner caught his eye. There was a new coffee shop closer to campus. Rosa Lee Teabag was an unusual name, but he would have to try it.
Approaching Ravenclaw Hall, Cornelius stopped. Now he remembered why he left. The air conditioning was down due to maintenance, according to that unpleasant Filch fellow. He sighed, feeling defeated. He had a bunch of grading to do, and nowhere safe and air conditioned to do it on campus. It was pointless to return home when he had two classes left.
“You alright there, Cornelius? asked Albus Dumbledore. He dressed in an orange pin-strip suit with a lime green shirt, a rainbow tie, a violet vet, and a red pocket square. This combination wasn’t easy on the eyes. It looked like Gellert hadn’t dressed his husband, and Minerva wasn’t around to make him change. There was no one controlling what Dr. Dumbledore wore, and his students were playing the ultimate price.
“Can I borrow your office?” he asked his friend desperately.
“Of course,” Albus agreed, “but I should warn you it’s mating season for Fawkes.”
“It’s fine,” Cornelius assured his friend.
It wasn’t fine.
Fawkes screamed and screeched. According to Albus, this could continue for hours at a time.
Cornelius found himself questioning all his decisions.