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Hello, My Name Is... by Irobbedgringottsandgotaway
Chapter 2 : Little Ol' Chap
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 1


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Disclaimer: Anything recognizable belongs to JK Rowling.

 






 




James Potter's song of the Chapter: You Don't Know Me by Ben Folds and Regina Spektor

 




"Hey, Jimmy, would you mind grabbing the eggs, the cereal, and the bananas while I go and pick out stuff for dinner tomorrow?" Alex asks, pushing the cart down the lit aisle of fermented products.

"Yeah, allright. Be back in a jiffy." I agree, pivoting and meandering off to where I saw the eggs earlier.

I've always had a very acute fascination of eggs, probably ever since fifth year... but more on that later. So it was pretty easy to remember where the eggs were located in the muggle grocery store.

But it was not easy to choose a carton of eggs.

I mean, they're eggs, white ovals that come in dozens and make good omelets.

But, apparently, it's not that simple anymore.

There are whole different grades of eggs, like Grade A and Grade C, I mean, come on, is that really fair to the eggs? I call it discrimination. And how do you know what grade is the best anyways? You bloody can't, I tell you!

Then there are cartons that come in dozens, then two dozen, then a half dozen.

There are blue cartons, pink cartons, yellow cartons, and the usual recycled brown looking cartons.

Not to mention the fact that some cartons contain brown eggs.

Brown eggs! What the hell? Since when are eggs brown?

I am ready to call a supermarket worker over to bring this defection to their attention when I see some sorry sucker come up, grab a carton full of the gross brown eggs and close the door.

At first his confidence is overwhelming, the way he just seems so decisive, like he's chosen eggs a million times before, so much so that I can't help but feel a sting to my manly pride and jealousy rises up from my stomach. Than I realize that he's grabbed the rotten carton.

"Mate!" I call, stopping him by grabbing his shoulder.

He isn't a far cry from my age, and he looks confused.

"Careful! You grabbed the bad eggs! The brown ones are defective!" I inform him concernedly.

He smirks, chuckling. He has a brown stubbly beard that moves with his mouth. "Relax, chap. Haven't you ever bought eggs before? Some eggs just come like that. It's normal."

I breathe a sigh of relief. But then realize how embarassed I should be.

This is what Alex calls a dumb blonde moment.

"Thanks. Sorry about that. There's a lot of options"

"No problem. The name's Greg. See you around." He's still smirking.

I huff indignified. "My name is James Potter. Pleasure."

Allright. Here goes. I'm just going to grab one and go before Alex notices that I'm taking forever.

Ok. Just grab the cheapest one and go.

I scan the prices, and reach-

Oh shit. Organic or non-organic?

Whatever James. Just man up.

Dammit. Large or medium?

Wait, never mind. It doesn't matter just grab and go. C'mon James. Pull yourself together.

I grab the cheapest and most normal looking box of eggs and dash towards the bread and cereal aisle, careful not to slip and spill all the eggs.

Well damn.

Turns out cereal is worse than eggs.

What kind of cereal does Alex usually get?

Hmm.

She usually has the kind with the little O's.

Oh- or she like the kind with real fruit in it.

Okay, this is easy.

Now, where's the kind I like with the little leprachaun marshmallows?

Oh! And this one has a maze on the back!

Well, this is rather fun.

I'm now juggling five cereal boxes and a carton of eggs in two hands as a walk up and down the back of the store looking for the bananas.

Dang nabbit! I can't seem to find the fruit anywhere!

Oh, wait. Produce.

That's smart talk for fruit and veggies isn't it.

Allright, I got this.

No problem for James.

Just choose a yellow bunch of bananas and go find Alex. I can do this.

Oh but wait- why are they all greenish?

Aren't they supposed to be all lemon yellow and uber scrumptiously fresh?

Ok, just grab a random bunch. They'll turn yellow eventually.

"James? Were you able to find everything okay?" Alex asks, as she spots me and pushes the rickety cart over to me.

Oh thank god. I thought I was about to break down in tears.

"Yes, of course." I say confidently. "I can handle some simple grocery shopping errands."

"Oh yeah?" She says, smirking.

"Why, of course." I say, pulling out my sexy smirk, just in case this is going where I think this is going.

"Then how come the cereal is covered with goopy egg shit?" She smirks triumphantly.

Ah, schnitzel.

"I'm sorry. I guess I'll have to go get everything again." I apologize, embarrased.

"Okay, but why don't you let me help you this time." She suggests. "Or..."

She sneakily sneaks her wand out of her back pocket and makes a couple of incantations restore the cereal and eggs to their original pristine conditions.

I sigh. "Thank you. It took me forever to get this crap."

"No problem. Now, I still have to get some corn for the Shepard's Pie I'm making when your parental units visit tomorrow." She looks at her list to confirm this.

It's official. I have the best wife. EVER.

{o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o}

Allright, so on the topic of eggs.

Eggs are my favorite breakfeast food. I eat them in omelets, scrambled, sunny style, hard-boiled, and I even ate a raw one on a bet one time back when I first got out of Hogwarts and was living on my own with the bare essentials.

So of course Alex knows exactly how to make eggs the way I like them. And in return, I had to learn how to make waffles. Belgium style.

Yeah, I know. Tall order if you ask me.

It's just one of those coupley things that arose. Now it's just tradition.

After a rough day or night, one of us will make the other their favorite breakfeast foods free of charge to cheer them up. Sitting together over a hot plate of breakfeast food is the best way to cheer each other up, as we've so learned.

That's just how we work.

But there's a reason I like eggs so much, and to tell you this, I'm going to have to give you a chapter out of my life. Just a real brief incident in my fifth year at Hogwarts that lead to my irrational inclination towards eggs.

So here's a little ol' chap for y'all.

{o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o}

"We should do what?" I asked, speculatively.

"We should bake a cake! And it can have light blue or pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles, and maybe some nice little flowers! It can be vanilla, with a sort of mouse filling! We could whip it up in the kitchens, with lots of our love and smiles!! Just think of the possibilities Jamie!"

Sigh. It was time to let Greta go.

She was sickenly sweet, and yet she had a bad side that wrought of the plague and dead puppies.

But I decided it would be polite to humour her this one last time before letting her go. It was the gentlemen's way.

It was certainly not because I wanted cake. No sir-ee.

"C'mon Jamie! Lead the way to the kitchens." She said, grabbing my arm and dragging me up from the couch with sheer brute force.

I would convince Greta to join the Quidditch team because of those muscles if it weren't for the fact that I can't stand her.

I let her lead me out the common room by the teeth (figuratively... of course) before heading towards the kitchens with her lagging behind me.

She let out a little squeak when we reached the pear, which then proceeded to giggle and spring open.

Three guesses whose giggle was more tone-deaf obnoxo.

"Okay, Jamie, get the big silver bowl and a whisk for me. Please." She said obnoxiously. "You. House-elf. Grab me some cake stuff."

I rolled my eyes.


It's for the cake



, I had to remind myself.

Once Greta had all the stuff assembled, she was leaning across the counter, looking through the pages of a cookbook.

"Where are all the pictures?!" She whined.

I face-palmed at the same moment someone else entered through the doorway.

I peeked between my fingers to see Alex Johnson walk in through the portrait hole.

She noticed us, raised an eyebrow, and said. "Don't mind me. I would hate to interuppt. Just came down to make some eggs."

I slid my hand down my face, watching her walk to a separate part of the kitchens, where she greeted a House Elf and started rummaging through the giant ice box, taking out several cartons of eggs.

"Oh! Here's a yummy recipe James! It has rainbow sprinkles AND a cute little moving bumble bee!" Greta exclaimed.

But I hardly took notice as I was still watching Alex, as she was doing the strangest thing.

She had gotten out a bowl and was now cracking an egg into her hands, letting the white gooply stuff to sift through her fingers.

It was fascinating watching her do this.

In fact, I was absolutely intrigued.

"Jamie? What are you staring at her for?" Greta squealed from besides me.

"Nothing." I said automatically, not even looking at her. Why was she using her hands?

"Jamie! Look at me! Why are you looking at her?!" She said, her voice growing an octave or so higher. "You know what! This isn't even the first time!"

"What?" I said cluelessly.

"You know what I'm talking about! About how you're always looking at other girls! Frankly, I'm sick of it!" She shrilled. "Do you even like me anymore?"

"No." I said honestly.

Her anger grazed the roof of the cavernous kitchens.

I couldn't help and catch Alex's eyes.

"Help me." I mouthed silently.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T LIKE ME ANYMORE?"

"Greta, I think it's time you and I broke up."

"YOU AND I WHAT?!"

"Split. In half. Forever. Go separate ways."

"WHO ARE YOU TO BREAK UP WITH ME!!"

Alex came up behind her, still holding an egg.

We made eye contact, and Alex did the single most greatest thing in the whole universe.

She took the egg in her hands, and crushed it against Greta's pretty blonde head.

"GAAAAAHHHAAAHHH-PFELTFFFFFFT!" She screamed before being cut off by the goop seeping down her face into her mouth, the yolk sliding down her blonde ringlets to the line where her hair met her forehead.

"He broke up with you. Get over it." Alex said plainly before heading back to her station.

I noddded, pressing my mouth into a thin line and tilting my head, as if to say, "The chick's right."

She screamed one last time and left the kitchens, slamming the door.

I breathed a big gust of relief.

"Hey, thanks." I said to Alex, walking over to the island whe was working at, where she was doing the finger thing with another egg. "I owe you one." I said, leaning across the stainless steel towards her.

"No problem." She said.

"No really." I said. "Considering how we're usually going at one another's throats, that was very generous of you."

She shrugged. "You probably find this as surprising, but I don't exactly like Greta. At all."

"Neither do I. That's why I'm thankful to you. If it weren't for you, she'd be clawing at my man pa- Okay, what are you doing with that egg?" I said, getting distracted once again by how she threaded the clear goop through her slender hands.

"I'm just separating the yolk. Haven't you done it before?" She asked.

"No." I said, scrunching my eyebrows.

"Here, hold out your hands." She said, nodding at me.

I did as she asked, and she took an egg, cracked it against the edge of the bowl before dumping the contents into my hands, shaking the shell to get the contents completely emptied.

"Okay, now just let it sift through your fingers into this bowl." She said, guiding my hands the first time, then letting go.

I let the yolk slide across my hand, the clear resin falling through the cracks in between my fingers.

It was the coolest thing I had ever done. Right there, right then.

She smirked. "You're really oddly intrigued by this, aren't you?"

"Yeah, just a little bit." I said, playing it cool, my eyes as wide as saucers.

"Well, it's really not that exciting. I make eggs all the time. My mum taught me before she, you know, kicked the can or whatever you want to call it."

"What other kinds of eggs do you make?" I asked, fascinated.

"Well, I can make scrambled, omelet-style, sunny side up, the works." She shrugged, then started to whisk the yolks together. I wiped off my hands, watching her work.

"You can make omelets?" I asked.

"Yup."

"Those are my favorite!"

"Oh, are they?"

"Like, my absolute-positute favorite!"

"Hmm."

"Like, they are my addiction."

"I see."

"If I could only have one right now..."

"MmHmm."

"So tasty..."

"Yup."

Well, this wasn't getting anywhere.

"So do want one or not?" She asked me.

"Hell yes! Finally. I was starting to think you didn't know how to take a hint!"

She laughed, then set about making me the best omelet I had ever tasted.

We ended up sitting there, talking about the different uses of eggs, and laughing about the stupidest stuff.

"Okay, and what's really wierd, is how guys don't think girls poop! I mean, we all shit!" Alex says, laughing.

"Yeah, because you don't! And if you do, it come out in little cocoa pebbles." I said matter-of-factly, with a mouthful of cheesy eggs and peppers.

Alex laughed, somewhat crazily. "I'm sorry." She said, gasping for breath. "That is just the stupidest thing you've ever said."

I rolled my eyes. "Hey, you know what another great use for eggs is?"

"What?" She asked.

"Pelting Slytherins as the exit the common room."

She smirked. "That may just be the smartest thing you've ever said."

And yeah, the month of detention was so worth it.

 

 

 

 
 


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