Now that she had graduated from Hogwarts, Elsa Rogers is now a full time member of Avengers along with Cedric and Cassy. She is finally living her dream and is fighting alongside her father, the one and only Steve Rogers, Captain America and her mot...
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Summer quickly faded away to fall, bringing the cooler weather with it and even though I had stopped wearing the cursed locket, tensions still ran high among us. It seemed the longer it was around, the worse everyone got with Ron being the worst of all. Nothing could make smile and he spent his days glued to the radio, listening to the names of the missing. He would complain about anything from the weather to Dumbledore's lack of instruction and one particular night, his topic of complaint was the quality, or lack therefor, of the food, which was only made worse by the fact he was wearing the locket.
"My mother can make good food appear out of thin air," Ron complained as he looked down at his plate on night.
Looking down at my own plate, which consisted of charred fish that I had to force down even though I despised fish and some sort of wild mushroom that was way too chewy, and had to admit silently to myself that it was no Asgardian feast. But it was the best we could do and I knew that it was still a hundred times better than what dad used to eat during the great depression.
"Here we go," Cedric sighed quietly so that only I could hear him, knowing that another fight was just seconds away.
"Your mother can't produce food out of thin air," Hermione started to lecture, making me roll my eyes. "No one can. Food is the first of the five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfigur..."
"Oh, speak English, can't you?" Ron snapped as he picked a fishbone out of his teeth.
"It's simple, Ron," Cedric sighed. "Magic can't make food out of nothing but you can transform it or increase it if you already have some."
"Well, don't bother increasing this, it's disgusting," Ron complained before he turned to me. "Elsa, didn't you grow up on a farm. Don't you know how to hunt and gather and stuff?"
"Oh, yeah, totally," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "Because we totally roughed it on the farm. You know, hunting prey for food and gathering water down at the lake. I grew up on a grain and cotton farm, Ron and believe it or not, there were stores close by where we could, you know, buy food."
"Well, shouldn't you know how to cook then?" Ron asked rudely and really getting on my nerves.
"Just because I lived on a farm doesn't mean I'm some perfect little 1950s house wife, Ron," I yelled at him. "I lived on the farm until I was around five years old and my Gran did all the cooking, then I moved into the Avengers Tower where Tony had the whole damn place rigged with his A.I Jarvis, who took control of most of the cooking. So, in other words, I take after my dad who is hopeless in the kitchen! But if you want to swap jobs, you can learn all the Asgardian magic that I use on a daily basis to keep up hidden and safely out of the hands of the death eaters. I'm sure we will last about five minutes out here if you do."
"Well, Hermione, you're the best at magic, so why can't you do better?" Ron said, turning his attention away from me, knowing he had lost the fight.
"You can do the cooking tomorrow, Ron," Hermione shrieked as she jumped to her feet, sending her food flying over the floor. "You can find the ingredients and try and charm them into something worth eating, and I'll sit here and pull faces and moan and you can see how you..."
