Silver
(If Them’s the Rules)
This drabble contains mild spoilers.
–
“Silver,” he sneers, pushing aside what he now can only view as cheap trinkets. “You’re giving me silver?”
“Are you an idiot?” Eileen asks him in return. “No, I am not giving you silver. I’m telling you to keep your both eyes on the silver I have temporarily put on the table. Lose sight of them, and I assure you that you’ll soon after lose your sight entirely.”
“What are you two even up to?” Rosier asks, scowling at the pile of silver. “I don’t think-”
“Don’t strain yourself,” Tom says, not looking up from the potion he’s brewing. “We all know how tedious thinking is for you. Al, hand me the snails.”
“I wonder what it’ll end up tasting like,” Avery mutters, handing Tom a small jar of powdered snails. “What does it even do?”
“It’s not an edible potion,” Eileen cuts in, and coming from her, every word manages to sound like an insult. “Honestly – look at the ingerdients we have lying around. Do you consider silver something edible?”
“I don’t know what you’re making, so it’s hard for me to say what you’re going to be throwing into the cauldron before you’re done. I don’t even regocnize the recipe.”
“You wouldn’t,” Tom says. “It’s not a well-known recipe.”
“Did you squeeze the information out of your precious Harry?” Rosier grins, and Tom glares at him.
“No.”
“Pity. At least you’de be squeezing something out of him.”
“Just focus on the damn silver and shut up.”
marlowfication 