Luscious Pumpkin Jam (dated to Halloween night)

[ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com]

The party was not intended to celebrate Halloween, actually, but to celebrate the existence of pumpkins. It just seemed Halloween would be a good time for that kind of a celebration.

Wizarding culture had a special regard for the pumpkin, making it into tarts and juice and savories, forcing it down the gullets of every magic-user from such a tender age as to form a lifelong habit. The Sorting Hat, being steeped in magic, had also steeped itself in many a vessel of pumpkin juice over the centuries of its storied existence. Pumpkin juice, pumpkin ale, pumpkin hooch. Gooey pumpkin-gut strings, luxurious nutrient-rich slime studded with pale seeds. Oh pumpkins, glorious gourd of wizard's delight!

The Hat had dubbed this party after one of its favorite recipes: the LUSCIOUS PUMPKIN JAM.

The huge doors of the Great Hall were open. While magic kept the chill seasonal drafts from the Great Hall itself, party-goers who wished to enjoy the crisp autumn air could do so from the luxury of a pumpkin carriage. These were quite literally hollowed pumpkins that the Hat's magic had transfigured into full-size carriages, capable of carrying several occupants. Each was lit from within by enchanted candles, and studded with gleaming black jewels, with carved faces in lieu of windows. Several of the enchanted wonders were lined up outside the doors, with their house-elf coachmen ready to whisk students around the school grounds in slightly-gooey, pumpkin-scented comfort.

Indoors, all was warm and merry, and candlelit, and mostly orange. Instead of bobbing for apples, guests could bob for miniature pumpkins, the sort Martha Stewart might have used to decorate a mantelpiece, their tub filled with pumpkin juice in lieu of water. A pumpkin-carving station took prominent position near the doors, with paints and yarn to bedeck uncarved gourds for those students uninterested in pulling out pumpkin pulp. Tables had been moved to accommodate a dance floor, with a karaoke machine placed nearby. Golems inspired by Arcimboldo, wholly composed of autumnal fruits, did duty as waiters and DJs.

From the vantage of the head table, elevated above the main body of the hall, the Hat could take in all at once the entire spectacle. Satisfied, it rapped a self-congratulatory pastiche/homage:

"There ain't no party like a Sorting Hat party 'cause a Sorting Hat party don't STOP!"

The Hat felt most coolio itself, extending a strap to caress languidly the sequined sombrero that lay beside its place at the Great Hall's head table. The sombrero did not respond, of course. It was rather like the hat-equivalent of a RealDoll. Inert though it might be, the sombrero was velvety AND blingy, and that was what mattered.

Comments

[thefuturemrpond.livejournal.com]

Rory didn't quite know how to respond to an assertion like that. "Well, I've - been told I'm not one to judge." He glanced away, one hand going to the back of his head as he recalled his own... slightly dubious style choices.

[theregothedrums.livejournal.com]

"It's not like you've seen what I used to look like." He paused, briefly uncertain. "Have you?"

[thefuturemrpond.livejournal.com]

"Not actually seen," he admitted. "Got a bit of an idea after the whole - psychic headbutt thing, though."

[theregothedrums.livejournal.com]

"Then you should know it was an elegant beard." He really had liked it. It was distinguished. Not that it would work on his current face.

[thefuturemrpond.livejournal.com]

"Okay, fine, it was. It went with the whole - thing you were obviously going for," he finished, a little awkwardly, shaking his head. "I can't believe we've ended up talking about fashion choices."

[theregothedrums.livejournal.com]

"You can tell a lot about someone by their fashion choices," he mused. "Of course, that only works if you understand the society that shaped them as well."

[thefuturemrpond.livejournal.com]

"Which you make a point of, obviously." A pause. He looked down at the table. "I do wonder how you really see us. Not just you, I mean... in general. What humanity looks like to the rest of the universe. Other than tacky, obviously."

[theregothedrums.livejournal.com]

"Depends on who you ask, really. Pesky, stubborn, persistent, adaptable, fast breeders, unfocused... on a few worlds you're considered a delicacy."

[thefuturemrpond.livejournal.com]

Rory chose not to respond to that last part. It wasn't as though it actually came as a shock. Disturbing, yes, but not surprising.

Instead, he asked, "Unfocused?"

[theregothedrums.livejournal.com]

"Unfocused. Perpetually in conflict with yourselves. Full of dazzling ideas that rarely lead anywhere concrete. You're like Galápagos finches." He grinned and shrugged. "Well, maybe not quite. You're a flexible race, but you lack cohesion. You're not the best poets, warriors, or scientists, but an individual human can be any of those things."

[thefuturemrpond.livejournal.com]

"Huh." He frowned slightly, considering it. "I see where you're coming from, yeah, but - does that really make us all that strange?"

[theregothedrums.livejournal.com]

He raised an eyebrow, eyeing Rory thoughtfully. "How many other races have you met? And how many have been as variable as your kind?"

[thefuturemrpond.livejournal.com]

"Um..." He tried, for a few moments, to come up with an exact figure, then gave up. "Well, first answer: a lot. Second, I don't know, I just assumed it was me that was stereotyping everyone..."

[theregothedrums.livejournal.com]

"Well, yes, there's quite lot of that. But your people are really fascinating generalists. If there's a niche, you'll fill it, and if there isn't, you'll make one."