Bald Porcupine

There were two subjects within the Beauxbatons curriculum which Christine absolutely despised. They were Herbology with all that dirt which not even a pair of dragon hide gloves could improve. Then there was potions. It may be interesting to know what interacts with what and the best way to stir or add an ingredient and so forth. The actual preparing of the ingredient though greatly detracted from her interest in the subject. And today she had to venture into the shop to top up her supplies.

She held her nose as she entered Mystic Spirits but the smells were so powerful she gave it up as a bad job. Thus her hand fell back down to her side. She ventured further into the shop looking left and right for those ingredients she had on her list. Nothing of what she needed had so far popped up and the smell was getting worse. "There had to be a much quicker method of collecting supplies than this," she complained aloud. "Excuse me. Could I trouble you to point me out to the porcupine quills?" she asked another occupant of the shop. Those ingredients at least had nothing unpleasant associated with them so long as you didn't picture bald porcupines whilst preparing them for a potion.

First in Heather's defense she hadn't even attended a class at Beauxbatons yet. Second, in her defense, she was the biggest airhead outside of a candy wrapper. So, when a clearly older girl asked her about porcupine quills. She kind of gave her a blank stare. "I suppose you would find quills on the nearest porcupine? I don't know where that is. I thought we used bird quills for writing anyways. Why would you want to write with a porcupine quill? You'd hurt yourself."

Heather had heard of people who would prick their fingers purposefully, but generally those people had diabetes. She looked at her, well past the girl to the nearest mirror in the shop just to make sure her hair looked good. She shrugged. "I would say go find a porcupine though, but do be careful. It would be a shame to have directed a girl to porcupine style acupuncture by mistake, what a grave mistake that would be."

Christine was not at all sure how to react to this girl's odd questioning of her own question. Perhaps steer her in the right direction of what porcupine quills were for? That sounded like the place to begin. "Oh no. Porcupine quills are not for writing with. They are for brewing potions and are not still attached to the porcupine when sold to the consumer. Though I am not at all sure how they get unattached from said porcupine." Perhaps she should have asked someone older rather than assuming a younger person was just as helpful. Instead she had approached a girl who must be very new to the world of wizards.

She could not help the smile which came upon her face at the advice given. "I am sure the people who supply the quills have ways of collecting them without being pricked by them." She craned her neck to look behind the girl just in case she had missed them her first perusal of the shelf. Not there. "In any case the last time I had to buy them they were in a jar. Not the porcupine. The quills from the porcupine."

Sadly, Heather was not knew to the world of wizards. She just wasn't all too bright. She knew quills to be one thing-not another. "It doesn't hurt the porcupine does it? Does someone take care of it after? Oh my gosh it is probably so adorable with no quills." Heather gasped. "I should find one and get one. I could open up a quill-less porcupine home and they could live with me. It would be awesome."

Heather could tell the girl was holding back some sort of laughter. "I was about to ask you very concernedly about porcupines being locked in jars. That is definitely not the proper home for a porcupine. Porcupines belong on little porcupine farms frolicking together and stabbing people with their quills. They deserve the porcupine dream life. Heather smiled brightly.

Christine was not at all sure how she was expected to react to something like this. What advice would the characters in the books give her in this type of situation? Honesty. Honesty with gentleness. That was how. Right? But how did one go about doing that? "I must admit that I do not know whether or not it does hurt the porcupine. Perhaps their quills are like our hair and sometimes a quill drops out where another grows in it's place." Perhaps wasn't lying was it? It was just giving a possible scenario.

She smiled at the image this girl gave her of a porcupine farm and nodded. "Yes. That is how porcupines should live." And she could not imagine any porcupine being dirty like the Henrau family dog or Stephie's owl. Having never seen a porcupine in person she could picture them as being the cleanest creatures ever. Second cleanest since Christine found her pygmy puff to be very clean indeed.