poppy pomfrey

[poppys-pomfrey]

The lantern floated in front of Poppy as she walked back from the Owlery, a brown paper package under her arm. It illuminated the path ahead some, though her sight was still limited in the thick fog of the evening. She sighed as the lantern floated through into the courtyard, and Poppy stepped down to follow it. She frowned lightly as something came into view- she squinted to try and make it out. A pile of fabric? Did a student leave a cloak behind? The lantern bobbed ahead, past the dark pile on the ground, so Poppy shifted her package aside and took her wand out of her pocket, illuminating the tip of her wand and then sending the light over the cloak.

Her movements were faster than a mere reaction- so seamless, it was instinctual. The girl lay on the ground, body contorted in such a placement that Poppy was certain her injury could only be sinister in origin. Poppy ran across the courtyard, eyes sweeping the scene for any danger, and finding none, before rushing down to the girl’s side and sweeping a gaze over her. “Honey? Mary? Can you hear me?” No response. She leaned down, taking the girl’s hands, noting the way her fingers curled up in rigor, twitching. “Squeeze my hands if you can hear me.” Poppy didn’t feel anything. She moved forward, taking her chin in hand, checking the girl’s airway for obstructions. Nothing. Finally, Poppy flipped her hair and leaned down, desperately hoping to see breath. While faint and labored, Poppy felt warm breath against her cheek, and saw the stuttered rise and fall of the girl’s chest. “Thank Merlin. Okay, Mary honey. We’re gonna get you up to the Hospital Wing, alright? You keep breathing for me, honey.”

@mcvttermole 

[poppys-pomfrey]

 ritawritesitall​:

Rita just rolled her eyes. Honestly? She didn’t give a damn about what people said about her. Her years at Hogwarts had helped her to grow a hard skin. And really, she knew she was doing something right. She was a mere 25 years older, and was a senior reported for the Daily Prophet. Clearly her boss liked her writing, even if other members of society didn’t. To be honest, although she enjoyed her gossip column, her main love was the drama filled articles she got to write. The big article post war had been her best one yet. “Right….” She mused, shaking her head. “Hmm. I dont recall you owning this shop. So don’t think you can tell anyone to leave…” She mused, a little smirk on her lips. “As it is I am actually buying things so.” She wasn’t going anywhere

So childish. Poppy didn’t know why she bothered. She very, very narrowly resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but did purse her lips into a very thin line, going back to sourcing ingredients. Poppy plucked small flowers off a thin branch with particular vigor. She may have been a grown adult, but Poppy was still a Ravenclaw. She couldn’t just leave it alone. Poppy put down the small bag she’d shoved the flowers into with a scowl. “You know what?” She glared over at the woman, gathering up her basket, “I get that it’s your job. I do. Trust me, I know all about bending morals for the sake of a job.  But professional advice- woman to woman. Own it. You do something shitty, don’t walk around acting like what you did was above board. You fucking broke me with what you did. How you treated her. Own it.”

[poppys-pomfrey]

Poppy abhorred fighting. Always had. That wasn’t to say her track record was perfect-- being friends with Alastor and Minerva meant that sometimes, she’d acted as lookout for teachers and prefects while her friends went off doing whatever they did in their pursuit of justice. But now, she didn’t like the extra work. She was busy enough as it was.

The matron pursed her lips as a child stumbled into her Hospital Wing, interrupting lunch. She put down her bowl of bibimbap and tied her hair up in a bun as she stood and turned- three actions that were so practiced it was almost a seamless transition. Poppy barely had to look at the boy before she knew who it was. “And what was it today, Orpheus?” She asked, moving to the sink to wash her hands. She looked over her shoulder, sweeping a gaze over him with a sigh. “Go sit yourself down.” Poppy inclined her head to one of the beds.

@tragedixn

[poppys-pomfrey]

After the drama that had come from the ball at the Nott estate, and the whirlwind of emotions that came with the end of October, Poppy was glad to be back at work. While busy, she knew what to expect in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing. She ran the triage list in her head:

Two first years who were stirring a a cauldron as it exploded. A seventh year boy with what wizards called Kissing Curse- though Muggle knowledge left her with an understanding that it was just plain old mono. And finally, yet another fifth year girl who’d attempted cosmetic spells on her face.

Poppy was wringing out a cloth with a cooling salve as she heard the click-clack of footsteps approaching the Hospital Wing. She draped the cloth over a drying rack and reached for another, dousing the fabric in the salve entirely. Poppy could hear the difference between adult footsteps and a child’s- and given she was quite consumed with her children as it was, Poppy didn’t habe the time to deal with professors following up with her. 

“Could you come back later?” Poppy asked, not bothering to look up from her work. Her hair was tied back in a high bun, her face stern as she concentrated. “We’re quite busy today. You can leave a note in my tray.” Through her drying rack, Poppy saw a pair of pink satiin kitten heels.

@doloresjane 

[poppys-pomfrey]

remoonus​:

Where a couple of days before a Full Moon, Remus was almost tunnel-visioned on food in the hours he could stay awake, particularly red meat and carbohydrates, afterwards his need for nutrients was overshadowed by a burning in his throat and a desire to live on nothing but hot chocolate, a mixture of the effect of howling and a childhood where he was bribed with chocolate frogs by his parents to get him through the trauma. It affected him more these days, now that he was supposedly an adult who looked after himself and so didn’t have his mam or Poppy or any of the Marauders force-feeding him vegetables. Chocolate was still good, though. It gave him the energy to eat the vegetables and helped bring his body back out of mild shock.

He devoured the first mousse while Poppy was talking, genuine happiness on his face that she was making moves to pass on her knowledge to students. He had been lucky enough in his Hogwarts days to learn from her, enough to be able to self-Heal. “That’s great. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of interest. You’ll be great.”

As he dipped his spoon into the second mousse, a distant sound from an upstairs room made him pause. “Did someone just scream?” Barely was the question out of his mouth when movement started around them, signs that used to be horribly familiar to Remus as indicating a Death Eater attack. It started with a house-elf in the middle of the party, then those involved in the organisation of the evening apparating here, there and everywhere. Aches, pains and fatigue forgotten, Remus shot to his feet, wand in hand.

Poppy raised her head, eyebrows raising at the sound of the scream. She jumped to attention, mirroring Remus in every way, wand at the ready. Poppy knew that  “A child,” The witch clarified as she looked around the ballroom, past people who stood and murmured, or apparated out of the way. “That was a child’s scream.” Poppy turned to Remus, swallowing.

“I didn’t think children were invited tonight.” Poppy said, worry etched over her features as she looked back at her former student. “Does Nott have a child?” Honestly, before most of the children were Hogwarts age, Poppy didn’t keep up with who had children aside from her friends.

[youlooklikearealbabetoday]

Choices. It’s all about choices.

[poppys-pomfrey]

ritawritesitall​:

Poppy Pomfrey. Oh how boring. Could she really have run into anyone more boring in the world? Okay. Probably. But Poppy was not someone Rita really liked to converse with. One of her best ever articles, the one that had really set her on the path to her senior position, had not exactly written the poor woman’s dead partner in good light. But hey. It wasn’t Rita’s fault. Her manager had told her to write less about Antonia, and more about the Longbottoms. She had just done what she was told, even if she did agree the Longbottom story had made for better reading. But, the whole thing didn’t really set the makings of a good relationship for herself and Poppy. Not that Rita cared. “Grief doesn’t make good news” She mused with a shrug. “Anyway. I’m above splashing gossip about people grieving in the prophet” The woman might not believe her, but that was actually true. Grief, and death, and hurt was rife during the month of October, and Rita chose not to exploit the wix too much. For that one month anyway.

Poppy picked up the next jar, irritated with herself for choosing today, of all days, to restock the Hospital Wing supply. She plucked several small gurdyroots of their deadened vine and shoved them into the jar with almost too much force. “Hmpf.” She never thought she’d see the day that she agreed with Rita Skeeter. Grief did not make good news. Nothing was good news when it came to what had happened. The matron did purse her lips again though, raising her beows and shaking her head. “I doubt that. We both know you’re not particularly known for your journalistic integrity,” She locked the lid on the jar again and looked across at the blonde. “If you’re not going to buy anything, you should leave. I’m trying to concentrate.”

[poppys-pomfrey]

ritawritesitall​:

Honestly. Why where people around here so boring. Rita could honestly do with some good drama. It really did help when writing her gossip column in the Daily Prophet. Whilst she was a senior journalist, she did quite like her gossip column. It of course was not the only column she wrote, but it would for sure one of her favourites. But she couldn’t write a drama filled gossip column if there was nobody doing anything interesting.

“It’s like everyone got boring over the last five years” The blonde murmured, rolling her eyes a little. “Since when did everyone get so boring. Really.”  

Poppy frowned deeply, gathering together more herbs and placing them in a jar. She looked across the apothecary table at Rita, pursing her lips. Her hands worked even when she didn’t watch what she was doing. “I suppose the community’s grief isn’t as performative as you would like, Miss Skeeter.” She shut the jar with a snap, closing the silver latch and placing the jar in her basket. “If you go looking for trouble, you’ll find it.” Poppy had repeated the mantra to Skeeter so many times that she knew it was useless at this point. Some of them just never grew up.

[poppys-pomfrey]

purestpeacock​:

A Medicinal Auction

“’My style’?” Lucius repeated, mock-aghast. “Madam Pomfrey, you wound me. “As if my sense of style would ever be brought low enough to include something as wretchedly tacky as that abomination to good taste?” He sighed dramatically. “Do you truly hold me in such low regard? Either I have to tear these robes off right now and burn them, or I need to revise my assessment of my younger self’s sense of fashion completely and retire entirely from society for at least three years out of shame.” He shook his head, mortally wounded.

The fatal injury was immediately cured by mention of his son – Pomfrey used the boy’s name without having to be reminded, how wonderful! – and Lucius beamed at her. “Up until I was so adroitly skewered by my old hospital matron, I was doing quite marvelously, thank you. And Draco…” Lucius’s bright grin softened with undisguised affection. “Draco is a perfect treasure. You are going to adore him,” he predicted confidently – less for any tangible reason than because Lucius genuinely couldn’t imagine anyone not adoring his precious child. “Although,” he added with a quasi-apologetic shrug, “I fear you may end up having to repeat a few of those lectures that I always so rashly ignored; he’s already demonstrated a love of being airborne. I think you’ve another Quidditch player coming.”

Another talented dueler as well, although Lucius saw no reason to mention that to Poppy Pomfrey – but he had every intention of teaching his son to defend himself properly.

Instead he gave her a grin that was all slyly-curled glittering violet lips and sharp white teeth. “Don’t be silly, my dear matron. As if I would ever let myself be out-bid on something that I truly wanted – even if it is just to see the look on father’s face. No, Severus I think – he’s a better choice to receive this splendid gift. He’s such a serious fellow; might cheer him up a bit, or at least give him something new to grip about,” Lucius laughed.

He eyed her chosen portrait balefully – it didn’t look like the sort of face he would want looking down on him in his study – then shrugged. “I suppose that’s a useful thing to be reminded of, anyway,” he said diplomatically, then his eyes lit-up as though struck by a grand idea. “How badly would you like it? I’ll put an outlandish bid down that no one will be interested in outdoing and gift it to you after, if you like.” Not that he thought anyone was going to be bidding high for that particular piece…but that didn’t make the offer any less generous.

She chuckled at his mock offense, rolling her eyes good naturedly and having another sip of her wine. “I thought the feathers might have made it yours, but you’re right. Maybe it’s the colour?” They’d taken the dull, greying hand and painted it a bright neon orange, with colourful decorations. Poppy looked from Lucius’ flamboyant outfit to Poppy’s rather boring red pantsuit. “Oh shush, Lucius. You know I wouldn’t know style if it slapped me in the face.”

Poppy smiled warmly at Lucius’ reaction to Draco. It reminded her of her own parents, as progressive as they had been, who had proudly told their traditional Korean family members about Antonia. Of course, they’d still harassed her about having children, but their love and acceptance was appreciated all the same. She quirked a brow, “Oh, no. Make sure you buy him a helmet, won’t you? By the time they’re at Hogwarts no one ever listens to grumpy old Madame Pomfrey about concussions and head trauma.” She remembered trying to wrangle one onto Lucius- and especially remembered his tantrum about how the leather would ruin his hair.

She rolled her eyes at Lucius’ teasing. School never ended for some of them, it seemed. Poppy was about to move on and out of the silent auction room to make room for others when Lucius made his offer. She scowled, “Oh, come now Lucius, don’t be ridiculous. Of course, if you’d like to donate more to St Mungos, I’m sure they could use the funding, but don’t do it for me. It might seem a touch inappropriate.” She reminded him with a quirked brow. Lucius was new to the school board, after all- perhaps he wouldn’t know. 

[poppys-pomfrey]

remoonus​:

It was sad, really, that he had grown so used to his lone transformations tied up in the middle of nowhere that he could get out of them relatively unscathed. In his youth, after a taste of what it was like to have company the night of a Full Moon, he had never believed that could happen. Not that it was all sunshine and roses, of course. It was still devastatingly painful for his bones and muscles to contort themselves into the different form and the illness around the time was often worse than waking up to memories of blood-thirst. It was still a disappointment to find out that Poppy didn’t have the potion he wanted but he didn’t feel so bad that it was distraught over the fact. She was right. All he really needed was a good night’s sleep. It was a shame that was so unlikely any time soon.

“Chocolate mousse sounds good,” Remus said, eyes drifting around the room to look for the tray but he didn’t get up. Instead he tapped his fingers on the table and he looked over at Poppy, wanting a distraction from his own problems for once. “How are you? How’s life at Hogwarts?”

Poppy nodded, turning to look for the tray in question. She took her wand and summoned the tray, which floated above the guests’ heads to hover just before her. She took two cups- one with each hand- and placed them both in front of Remus, before taking a cup for herself. The tray didn’t leave and Poppy quirked a brow then picked up two spoons, placing one in front of Remus. Only then did the silver tray float away once more. She hummed, picking up her spoon and having a scoop full. When he’d been a child, Remus had needed plenty of encouragement to eat after a full moon. He’d only take sips of soup if she had a spoon first. She supposed it wasn’t necessary anymore, but Poppy was so used the routine that she didn’t mind.

She savoured the taste of it, sucking her spoon clean and cocking her head at Remus. Poppy hummed, “Well. Being here is... DIfficult,” Poppy admitted. Remus shared such a vulnerable part of himself with her, that Poppy felt she at least owed him honesty. “Hogwarts is going well, though. I’m almost ready to take my curriculum to Dumbledore, I think. Then gauge some interest with the students, hopefully get classes going soon, it’s very exciting.”

[poppys-pomfrey]

galacticxbabe​:

A bright, warm smile rested on Andromeda’s lips as Poppy stepped back and told her that she looked fantastic. “Thank you so much. You look lovely tonight as well.” She remembered a time when she had to go to Madam Pomfrey after a slug-vomitting curse was cast on her during her sixth year from a pureblood that was upset with her for her romantic choices. Treacle fudge was obviously what helped clear it up rather quickly. “The attire has not really changed that much at St. Mungo’s, which is probably good. I would probably give a patient a heart attack dressed like this, don’t you think?” She teased lightly. “I’m currently on the third floor. Herbology definitely came in handy there.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” She chuckled, having a sip of her wine when Andromeda spoke of those old St Mungo’s uniforms. Of course, Poppy remembered being rather taken with them, especially the way Antonia had looked when she walked her way... Poppy smirked, giving a grin at the thought of Andromeda in her heart-stopping gown, strolling down the St Mungo’s halls. “You may turn a few heads.” She raised her brows, interested. “I’ll have to pick your brain some time. I’m hoping to set up a Healing curriculum at Hogwarts? If there’s enough interest, of course.”

[poppys-pomfrey]

remoonus​:

Since he was eleven years old, Remus had grown used to Poppy Pomfrey being there the day after a transformation. There had been others, from time to time: his mother during school holidays, fairly competent by then but just as awkward and fearful for him as ever; the Marauders in any way they could be; Lily, especially in those couple of years after school. Then the other wolves. Greyback. He came out the other side of the war traumatised in ways he couldn’t tell anybody about but if there was one good thing about it all, it was that he had been able to go back to Poppy now it was all over. He couldn’t rely on the likes of Sirius and Lily in those times of vulnerability, but Poppy had been there for him before either of them had been. He should have guessed that she would seek him out when he spent the afternoon trying to patch himself up enough to look presentable for tonight instead of asking for medical help.

“Hell if I know,” he muttered, quietly enough that it was clear he wasn’t really answering her question. He was only there on Dumbledore’s say-so and he knew that wasn’t a good enough reason, really. To distract himself from giving a proper response, he pulled the sewing tin towards himself and took out a potion that would ease the burning ache throughout his body. Having taken that, he looked into the kit, trying to decide if he needed anything else. He didn’t have any wounds that needed patching up but if he was going to stay awake much longer he needed something to help with that. Pepperup potion might work but everybody would notice him steaming from his ears for the next hour. “Have you any awakening potions I can take in here?” A lot of the common ones had wolfsbane as an ingredient which changed the way they affected Remus.

She wasn’t anticipating a response- because honestly, Poppy didn’t have a good answer to her own question, either. ‘I’m here because other people would notice if I wasn’t’ was hardly valid. She sighed, sweeping an analysing gaze over Remus as he reached for her sewing tin and sorted through it. She couldn’t see any outward injuries, which was a relief. The worst months had been those where she’d had to re-break bones before setting them with potions and bandages, and the times she spent days applying dittany and salves in vain, trying to heal scratches and bites that she knew would never fully heal.

Poppy gave a light frown, running the numbers in her head, considering what she had- their ingredients, and side effects. Eventually she shook her head, “Sorry, Remus. None that you could take. You need a good night’s sleep.” Normally, she’d reach out and give him an affectionate pat on the shoulder, but she couldn’t see him properly under all of that clothing, so she didn’t want to aggravate any injuries. “Something to eat might help. I think I saw a tray go past with some chocolate mousse...”

[remusww]

Location: Nott Estate Ball When: 18th October 1986 Who: Remus && open

There were a lot of reasons why Remus didn’t want to be here tonight. He had never enjoyed these fancy galas even before social events left a sour taste in his mouth. Growing up without a lot meant they were so far out of his comfort zone he might as well be in outer space. Being bitten had left him with a strong dislike for hospitals, which he had only just overcome for the sake of visiting James but still meant the support for St Mungo’s was little incentive for him to want to go, especially when everything else was all wrong. The place it was held, for starters, a gross insult to the victims they claimed to be trying to help. If Remus felt he had any choice in the matter, he would not be here. In fact, he had already made the decision not to go when a ticket he hadn’t bought was dropped in his lap by an owl. He went into the Post Office to try and figure out where it had been supposed to go when Dumbledore found him and he talked in his usual gentile but mysterious way and the next thing Remus knew, he had pocketed the ticket and taken the plain black dress robes Narcissa had bought for him out of their packaging and was going to the gala.

There was something sickening about the fact that he still couldn’t say no when Dumbledore asked him to do something, even if that something was to go to a frivolous party the night after a Full Moon.

He found a quiet, dark corner out of the way where he slumped on the table, head buried into his arms and tried not to think about the fact that he hadn’t slept in forty hours. Hopefully, he could get away with sitting there until enough people had left the event for him to assume that whatever Dumbledore was worried might happen wasn’t going to happen and then he could go back to his doorstep in Knockturn Alley and try to recover from the night before. All too soon, though, he heard someone approach and pull out one of the chairs at his table. “Seat’s taken,” he said, without lifting his head.

[poppys-pomfrey]

This was exhausting. Poppy was an introvert, it wasn't a secret. Being around this many people, especially in this place and for this purpose was almost too much. But leaving early would be making a statement- even though she was a fucking widow of the cause they were celebrating. Exhausting.

Poppy headed for the back corner, prepared to sit and be alone to recharge her batteries, when she noticed him. Oh, honey... He still looked so young. Poppy strolled over, sitting in the spare seat and looking across at him sympathetically. She opened her handbag, fishing around for her pocket sewing tin which contained her medical kit- albeit shrunk. When he spoke, Poppy quirked a brow, pushing the palm-sized sewing tin across the table to him. "Well, you wouldn't have people bothering you if you were on bed rest, Remus." She eyed him, but couldn't bring herself to stay quite so stern, so she softened her tone. "You look exhausted. Why are you here?"

[poppys-pomfrey]

galacticxbabe​:

“It’s possible I might not even win it anyways.” She replied with a gentle shrug of her shoulders. Andromeda was far more than aware that there was a great amount of wealth in the room that far surpassed Ted and herself. In fact, she had once belonged to such an elite crew. Though, it didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try to have fun with a few items in the silent auction. If she didn’t get them, then oh well. If she did, she was supporting a good cause. 

What Andromeda had bid on was a watercolor painting that had a woman reaching for a star. The magical element of it being that some of the stars would fall and twinkle throughout the sky. She wasn’t sure necessarily what was fake about it, maybe that it was not an original art piece. However, the raven-haired woman enjoyed the colors and the image. She would be happy to have it if she were to win. 

“True,” Poppy agreed with her reasoning, admiring the duplicate painting. “And I suppose, it’s all for a good cause anyway.” She turned to Andromeda, stepping back to admire the young witch. “Look at you, Andromeda. You look fantastic tonight.” She said genuinely. It would never cease to be strange. When she looked around the party, she remembered welcoming most of these grown adults into Hogwarts as 11 year olds. In particular, Poppy remembered the first few weeks, when Prefects would usher sniffling, homesick children to the Hospital Wing for a calming draught and a cup of warm milk with honey. How much all of them had grown, with their own careers and families now. She gave a chuckle, “It’s strange being dressed up like this, isn’t it? Or has the St Mungo’s uniform changed since my days? What floor are you on now, by the way?”

[poppys-pomfrey]

purestpeacock​:

Lucius grinned back, unabashed and undaunted. “Of course it’s a fake,” he said cheerfully. “No one in their right mind would put opals on a real Hand Of Glory, their glitter would quite undercut the purpose of the thing. Nevertheless, you have to admit it’s charmingly tacky in a so-hideous-it-hurts sort of way. I think I’ll give it to my father – or possibly to Severus. I haven’t decided yet which of them is likely to detest it more.” 

He looked up at the Hogwarts matron, a woman in whose care he had ended-up more than once after a raucous Quidditch match or ugly hex (although less often than he should have, if you asked most of his classmates; Lucius had always had quite undeservedly good luck), and grinned at her. “Good evening, Madam Pomfrey. Are you enjoying the revels so far? And have you an opinion on the best eventual disposition of that ridiculous construct?” he asked, gesturing once more to the would-be Hand Of Glory.

Lucius might have said something rude about her own auction choice, but Draco was six years old now; best not to antagonize the witch who was going to be responsible for the boy’s medical care in fewer than five year. One never could be sure how long somebody else might hold a grudge until it was too late – so he settled for a neutral, “And the portrait? Is that a personal purchase, or something on behalf of Hogwarts?”

She cocked her head at the hideous object, having a deliberate sip of her wine to swallow back the comment about the hand in question. Poppy quirked a brow though, genuinely surprised when Lucius mentioned giving it to someone else. “It’s a gift? I thought it was more your style, Lucius.” Even as a boy, Lucius Malfoy had been a little more... Flamboyant than others his age and status.

The woman smiled back warmly, genuinely pleased to be with a former student. “Malfoy, good to see you. How are you? And Draco?” And it was genuinely good to see him. She had a particular soft spot for the more... Unique children at Hogwarts, and was quite proud of the way he and Narcissa had wholeheartedly embraced their son. She kindly dodged the question about enjoying the ball, instead turning her attention to the auction object again. “Well, it is a silent auction, so you never know who might go home with it.”

She looked to the portrait then, giving a sigh. “Personal- I thought it might do well in my study. Thickey is a bit of a reminder among Healers to be honest in our work. And to seek treatment for a root cause, not symptoms.” 

[poppys-pomfrey]

Location: Nott Estate Ballroom Date: 18 October 1986 Starter: Open

It felt ridiculous to be here. Not just because of how insensitive the choice of venue seemed to be, but to be here. Celebrating, as if there truly was anything to celebrate. Poppy had intended to spend the night like most others- in her study with a glass of wine and a fat book to keep her company, but Poppy was sure that Minerva would’ve had her guts for garters if she sat another event out. 

She stood in the corner, a glass of wine in her hand as she looked around the ornately decorated room. Ridiculous. She resolved to finish her drink, make a donation to St Mungo’s, and leave. To kill two birds with one stone, Poppy wandered over to the adjoining room where all of the silent auction pieces were held, and folded her arms as she perused them. She eventually found herself rather taken with a handsomely framed portrait of Janus Thickey, the wizard for whom the ward was named. She picked up the ornate quill next to the portrait and signed her bid on a piece of parchment, noticing another wix doing similar to the next item on the auction. She squinted at it, picking up her wine glass again and having another sip. “That’s definitely a fake,” She commented on the item in question, “I mean, all in the spirit of fundraising, sure. But it’s a fake.”

[kthrynhahn]

Eve Polastri in I Have a Thing About Bathrooms (s01e05)