Short Stories

[rallem]

A Christmas Story on Planet X
By Snugglebunny Claus

For a good part of the Twentieth Century, it was commonly believed that there were nine planetary bodies, one asteroid belt, and two comet belts that orbited the star called Sol. The names of these bodies were as follows; Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, the Asteroid belt, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, the Kuiper belt, Pluto, and the Oort cloud. Early in the Twenty-First Century, a new planetary body was found. That new planetary body, named Sedna, exhibited some unusual characteristics which required further explanation. A hasty mission was implemented naming the target, Planet X.


Commander Buck Dodgers prepared to land his interplanetary skiff onto the newly discovered planetoid that orbited near the Oort cloud. Buck suspected that he was given this mission as a joke, due to his name, because it wasn’t his turn to fly an interplanetary jump. The Scientists at headquarters insisted that the pilot whom was supposed to fly this mission was ill, and couldn’t make it. Buck reasoned with them that he wasn’t the next in rotation, but they countered with a response that was un-arguable, even if he didn’t want to fly this mission. They said that the small rotation of pilots at their disposal, were either preparing for other scheduled missions, or recovering from those that were completed too recently, and their health couldn’t be risked. They promised Buck that this mission won’t have any adverse affects on his rotation, so in layman’s terms he was getting an extra flight this year for free. The truth is that Buck loved these missions so much; that if someone was getting a laugh back home, it didn’t really matter to him.

The main reason for Buck’s certainty of this joke is that his entire stay in the academy was peppered with either Duck Dodgers’ the cartoon, or Buck Rogers’s the fictional hero jokes. Not only from his fellow classmates, but also from the cadre, the scientists, and the people at command. Buck had to grin and bare it, but secretly he often cursed his Mom and Dad for saddling him with this name. Heck, Dodgers wasn’t even his family’s traditional last name, it was Smith from back East, but when his father moved to Los Angeles he changed it to Dodgers so he could assume a western identity. Another reason for Buck’s certainty of this joke was his pronounced speech impediment. Well, Buck reasoned with himself, “They may be getting a laugh back home, but I am the one getting to fly this mission and nothing can be more pleasant than that.” Buck had the landing gears lowered, and his retro rockets were automatically firing to make a smooth landing, but then he noticed something odd. Buck’s skiff was using an inordinate amount of fuel for this landing. This puzzled Buck, but right now he had other things to worry about. These landings were all pre-programmed to be automatic, but Buck had witnessed what happens to pilots whom assume they will be, and drop their guard. Buck wasn’t going to let that happen here, so even though his skiff was performing flawlessly, he remained attentive just in case.

Buck’s skiff did land perfectly on the small, cold and dark planetoid, that was named Planet X for this mission, but the amount of fuel it burned to do so, was alarming. Buck made some calculations regarding the amount of fuel burnt, and according to them he just made a landing on a planet with a gravitational pull of one, which was impossible for a planetoid this small with so little mass, but the fact was he burnt the fuel. Buck made some other calculations in his head using a gravitational pull of one for the launch, and as long as nothing else went wrong, he should be able to do it, but his little trip to Pluto on the way back was off. Buck then began to prepare the quantum communications system to tell the people back home the news. While preparing the communications system, buck thought, These new quantum systems are awesome, and soon we’ll have engines that use tachyons too. Then we’ll be able to make interstellar jumps, and I can’t wait for then. Buck spoke up, “Base, this is Commander Dodgers, radio check over.” He then waited a moment for the response, and soon it came.
“Commander Dodgers, this is Base, we read you loud and clear, over.”

“Base, this is Commander Dodgers, I have landed safely on Planet X, but have burnt an inordinate amount of fuel doing so, break. I have done some calculations on the amount of fuel burnt, and they indicate a gravitational pull of one, over.”

A moment later the response came, “Commander Dodgers, this is Base, we suspected that because of the affects the planetoid has on the nearby comet belt, break. Please be advised, the observed size, and calculated mass do not concur with the registered affects on the comet belt, break. We would like you to explore Planet X, and determine why that planetoid emits a gravitational pull of one, over.”

Buck sat there a moment to let the message sink in. “Base, this is Commander Dodgers, I copy that you want me to leave my ship and explore the planetoid, break. I also copy that you want me to explore for any reasons why Planet X emits a gravitational pull of one, break. Base, do you have any theories to assist me in detecting the cause for the artificial gravitational pull? Over.”

A moment later, “Commander Dodgers, this is Base, that is a negative, good luck, over.”

“Base, this is Commander Dodgers; I will be switching to a mobile communicator, after I change into a space suit, so expect a test in a few minutes, over.” Buck got dressed in a space suit designed for long excursions away from his ship, and exited his skiff.

As soon as Buck got outside his skiff, he noticed that the gravitational pull was similar to Earth’s, so he noted that for a future report. Buck thought about grabbing a personal rocket pack for the scouting mission, but then thought it would be unwise with the looming gravitational mystery. When Buck walked a suitable distance from his skiff, so that he could still see it, but yet the ship’s mass could neither assist nor detract from his transmission, he gave a communications check. “Base, this is Commander Dodgers from a mobile communicator, can you read me? Over.”

Buck again waited a moment for the response. “Commander Dodgers, this is Base, we read you loud and clear, over.”

“Base, this is Commander Dodgers, the physical effects on my person from the gravitational pull, are similar to Earth’s, break. I will be conducting experiments on the atmosphere, wait for the results, over.” Buck pulled a device from the belt of his suit and began taking readings with it. He then began performing a series of tests and checks to confirm his findings. “Base, this is Commander Dodgers, be advised that the atmosphere is similar to a pre-industrial Earth, break. Also be advised that the temperature reading is negative two degrees Celsius, over.”

A few moments later a response was given, “Commander Dodgers, this is Base, can you confirm those readings, over?” “Base, this is Commander Dodgers; I have calibrated my sensor array, checked it, and then re-checked the calibrations, break. I have also rechecked my readings, and can only try again, with another sensor array when I get back to the ship, over.”

“Commander Dodgers, this is Base, we copy, over.”

After Buck finished his readings and transmissions, he prepared to walk in a series of clockwise circular paths near his ship, making them form a clockwise circular path around his ship, so he could be sure that a complete scouting of his skiff’s area was done, but as soon as he started his walk, Buck noticed a glimmer in the distance. Buck raised the power of his in-suit visual aid until the distance between him and the glimmer seemed to fade away, but Buck was still unable to discern what was causing it, so he decided to walk in the glimmer’s general direction. “Base, this is Commander Dodgers, I have detected a glimmering object approximately two point three kilometers from my current location, and am going to investigate, over.” Buck began walking before he heard their affirmative response. Buck walked for what seemed like a couple kilometers, but he couldn’t be sure, since keeping a pace count in this rocky terrain was difficult, and he felt that keeping his mind on the problem at hand was more important than on a pace count. Buck knew that if needed he could always find his ship through the in suit navigation system, and could get the exact distance walked from it as well, but more importantly, if needed he could always call his skiff to him. Buck thought about that, and wondered how it would affect his fuel though, and couldn’t seem to get his head around the calculations, so he dropped the subject. When Buck came just short of his destination, he stopped to observe, but was still unable to see the cause of the glimmer. Buck decided to proceed cautiously, just in case. When Buck came around a huge boulder along his path, he noticed what was causing the glimmer. It was a large golden pole in a clearing that had wires leading from the top to the ground at about a thirty degree angle. On the wires were what looked like red, green, and blue metallic flags. Nearby the pole was a little humanoid dressed in green, and wearing a legionnaire style helmet. The little humanoid was crouched, and working on something. Buck hung his head, thinking of the similarities to the Duck Dodgers jokes he endured at the academy, and wondered if this was somehow a part of the joke he just knew was being played on him. Buck began to walk slowly and quietly towards the little humanoid. Just short of where the humanoid was crouched, Buck stopped, and listened to him mumble in a high pitched voice. Buck then decided to introduce himself. “Excuse me,” said Buck.

The little humanoid turned his head in surprise, and bolted off behind a rock. Buck stayed put. A few moments later, Buck saw the little humanoid stick his head out inquisitively from the other side. Buck used slow and unthreatening motions as he said, “I won’t hurt you, please come out.” The little humanoid waited for the words to sink in, then slowly began to emerge from behind the rock, and approached Buck cautiously. Buck asked, “Can you understand me?”

The little humanoid paused again, looked at Buck with an odd expression, and then said, “Of course.”

“You speak English?” Bucked asked.

“Yes,” said the little humanoid with a matter of fact tonality to his voice.

Buck was puzzled, so he asked, “Why do you speak English?” The little humanoid thought about that for a moment and answered, “Because you speak and understand English, I speak and understand English.”

“So if I spoke German, you would speak German?” Bucked quizzed.

“Yes,” said the little humanoid. Buck thought about that, and shook his head in the affirmative. Buck paused a little longer, then asked in a leading tone, “Is your name Marvin, and are you a Martian?”

“No, and no,” answered the little humanoid. “My name is Hermey, and I am an elf.”

After a minute of silence between the two, Buck asked, “What would an elf named Hermey be doing on Planet X?”

“My job,” said Hermey.

“What is your job Hermey?” “I can’t answer that question, but for the answer you will need to follow me to my Boss,” said Hermey.

“Sure,” said Buck, “but please wait a minute while I transmit. Base, this is Commander Dodgers, I have discovered the cause of the glimmer, please wait while I investigate, over.”

A fairly quick response came, “Commander Dodgers, this is Base and we copy that you have discovered the cause of the glimmer and need to investigate, over.”

Buck motioned for Hermey to lead the way. Hermey took the lead, and mumbled, “The Boss has been expecting you.”

Buck and the elf walked to a well defined cave, not far from where Hermey was crouched just a few minutes ago. They entered the cave and walked to a round wooden door painted green. Hermey opened the door and motioned for Buck to enter. Hermey entered the doorway after Buck, closed the door, and then lead him to another doorway. “Please wait here,” asked Hermey, as he entered and closed the doorway behind him. Several minutes later, Hermey returned and said, “Please follow me.” The two of them entered a cavernous room where many elves similar to Hermey, but without helmets were working laboriously at long benches, and a larger fat man sat in a chair on the other end of the room.

The two of them walked towards the man in the chair, and stopped before it. “Hello little Bucky!” said the man in the chair.

What the Heck, thought Buck, I haven’t been called Bucky, since I was a child, and even then only by some Shopping Store Employee in a suit.

Hermey walked away from Buck and the fat man, towards a bench. Buck gazed at Hermey while he walked away. “Never mind him Bucky, he has to get to work after setting up the holiday pole as I requested.” Buck looked back to the fat man in the chair, and thought about what he just said. “Hi,” said Buck inquisitively to the fat man in the chair. “Who are you?”

“Ahh, how quickly they forget,” said the fat man, “I am Santa Claus.”

Buck stood there for a couple moments in a stupor, and then he looked around at the elves. “Sure you are,” said Buck as he returned his gaze to Santa, “but why are you here on Planet X, and not at the North Pole?”

Santa shrugged his shoulders and then looked down as if to remember something specific. “Well, since the discovery of flight by man, it was impossible keeping my location a secret, so I had to find a different place where I wouldn’t be found.” said Santa as he returned his stare on Buck.

“Oh!” said Buck. “Have I ruined your secret?”

“Well, that depends on you Bucky,” said Santa, “you could tell a story that would keep my secret.”

Buck fidgeted before asking, “Umm.” “May I ask you some questions?”

“Sure,” said Santa encouragingly.

“How did you get here, get this planetoid so warm, and get its gravitational pull to equal Earth’s?”

“Ahh,” said Santa, “there is only one answer, and it is the same as how I get all the toys to the children, it is pure magic my boy.”

Buck shook his head in the affirmative as if this all made sense to him, and oddly enough it was beginning to. “Do the elves need helmets outside?” asked Buck.

“No,” replied Santa, and then added, “That’s just Hermey,” as Santa made circular motions with his forefinger towards his temple. “He makes friends with the reindeer,” added Santa.

“Ahh,” said Buck. “What do you do with the holiday pole?” asked Buck. “Well, I don’t do anything with it, but the elves celebrate Christmas around it,” answered Santa.

“The elves celebrate Christmas?” asked Buck.

“Of course,” said Santa, “it’s their one day off a year, so they have an extra merry celebration.”

“One day a year off, isn’t that pushing them too hard?” asked Buck.

“Oh no, it’s what elves do,” answered Santa, “and it doesn’t take any pushing from me.” “I just direct their efforts,” added Santa.

Buck stood there looking around to survey the situation, and gather his thoughts. “Can any of your magic help me Santa?”

“How do you mean?” asked Santa with a glimmer in his eye.

“Well, I’ve already reported that the gravitational pull here was equal to that of Earth’s, and that the atmosphere was equal to a pre-industrial Earth. The people at base already expected the gravity because of the effects this planetoid has on the nearby comet belt, but they didn’t believe me when I told them about the atmospheric conditions. I was asked to explore for a reason why this planetoid had the gravity it did. I need an explanation for base that will keep mankind from this planetoid.”

“Ahh,” said Santa, “we need to sit and think this one out.” Santa paused. “I find that cookies and milk always helps in situations like this,” said Santa, “would you like some?” as cookies and milk magically appeared before them.

“Yes,” said Buck, as he grabbed some cookies and milk and sat down at Santa’s feet.

The two of them sat chewing cookies and drinking milk. After a few minutes, Santa muttered, “The number of people who believe in me has dropped drastically.”

“Uh,” said Buck.

“In the United States of America, I am only believed in by seventy percent of the people.”

“Is it that high?” asked Buck.

“Uh,” said Santa. They both chewed their cookies for a few minutes. “Do you still believe in me Bucky?”

Buck stopped chewing for a moment, and thought about it. “I can see you, can’t I?” answered Buck.

“Ho, Ho, Ho, that’s my boy, Ho, Ho, Ho!” Santa then settled down, and looked at Buck with a serious expression, “I have the solution to our dilemma. We’ll leave this building, and you’ll call your ship to us,” said Santa.

“Yes?” asked Buck. “Then you’ll gather another sensor array and I’ll make it so the data on it paints a grim picture,” said Santa. “What about the gravity?” asked Buck.

“Well,” said Santa, “The Scientists will find their data has been corrupted, and when they look again the planetoid won’t have any affect on the comets.” “What about their memories?” asked Buck.

“Swiped clean,” said Santa.

“Will I have enough fuel to get home with my ship after I call it here?” asked Buck.

“Yes,” said Santa, “and you’ll have exactly what you were supposed to for a planet of this size and mass, when you get back.”

“Great,” said Buck, “let’s get started right away,” as the two men jumped into action.

After Buck’s Skiff landed near the two men just outside of Santa’s cave and the two men performed their tasks, Buck radioed the bad news to the base of operations back home, and turned to say good bye to Santa. “I promise you an extra special Christmas this year Bucky, because you’ve been an extra good boy. Ho, Ho, Ho!”

“Bye Santa,” said Buck with a smile, “and thank you, but this will be the most special day of my life, because I got to meet you.”

There was a pause between the two men. “Thank you for saying that Bucky, but you do know, that you’ll never get to tell anyone that you met me?”

“Yes sir,” said Buck.

“I can’t tell you what will be under your Christmas tree, because I don’t want to spoil the surprise, but I promise it will be the best Christmas you’ve ever had, and every year will just get better.” said Santa.

“Do you want to know something funny?” asked Buck.

“Of course,” answered Santa.

Buck blushed from embarrassment, and then added, “I thought this whole mission was a joke being played on me, because of my name.”

Santa looked at Buck with an expression of understanding, and said, “It was Bucky, it was my joke that I put in your employer’s and co-worker’s minds.” Santa paused then added, “I wanted to see you, and no one else.” Buck let Santa’s words sink in, then turned away and entered the cockpit of his skiff. While Buck prepared his ship for take off, Santa entered his cave, shut the door, and began to make the final preparations on Buck’s new interstellar ship for Christmas. The engines of Buck’s skiff came to life and after only a moment for them to reach the desired temperature, the ship began to shake violently as it rose into outer space at an incredible rate of speed. The details of the mission Buck just completed were getting foggy to him already, but Buck wasn’t bothered too much, because small, cold, and desolate planetoids like Sedna never had anything interesting to report. Besides his ship would have all the recordings. Buck set a course for a quick tour of the planet Pluto on his way home.

Ho, Ho, Ho, I hope you all have a very merry Christmas
All characters, locations, and devices in this story are fictional, and any resemblance to other Characters, locations, and devices, real or fictional is purely intentional.

[pseudonym]

The effects of war: A story of seven heroes in photographs.

[ Remus Lupin ]

As he led a few students out into the grounds to come face to face with the inevitable; Death was upon most he was leading, although that was not the time to be reflecting upon guilt and regret, it pierced through him. Arthur Weasley was beside himself as he scurried to keep up with the much healthier men in their long strides along with the healthy children in their wake. With such a determined look on Kinglsey Shacklebolts’ face those in his presence could not manage to dream of victory but with such determination there would always be traces of hope that darkness could not touch. However for Remus Lupin his whole world was in darkness for the son he could never know and the wife he would have to leave behind, he had no hope, no hope for the future, no hope for his life. As he came face to face with Antonin Dolohov fear flashed before his eyes as he caught sight of a raised wand in the hands of the enemy; catching the fearful werewolf off guard. The prideful man turned slowly away from reality and towards his wife who was foolishly running towards him in an attempt of aid. He would be proud to be there for his family but even more so to protect them. He smiled peacefully as her clammy fingers much like their sons grasped around his own and she held them until they fell to the ground.

R.I.P Remus Lupin.


[ Colin Creevey ]

As Colin bravely broke away from his party he hurried back towards the great hall where much older and wiser magical beings were taking on the challenge of bringing down the Dark Lord. He; Colin would help alongside them and he; Colin would be a Hero in some way or other. As he scurried out of the view of authority he soon came face to face with evil. A few intimidating Death Eaters were making their way towards him unaware that he even mattered. Colin stared down the spiral staircase on his left where Harry Potter and his friends were frantically looking for something so it seemed. As the death eaters attempted a sly approach Colin raised the camera that was so often attached to his neck and clicked once so that a flash caught the death eaters’ by alarming surprise. He took one last admiring glance at Harry Potter who was looking in the opposite direction too busy to notice the boy he seen every day. Colin did not shout his name as he watched in the reflection of his camera a death eater in its’ native position. However he did smile and began to wonder if after all this time Harry Potter may finally write him an autograph. What a prize: from the boy who lived while he; Colin would not.

R.I.P Colin Creevey.


[ Fred Weasley ]

Fred Weasley glanced across to his brother and flashed his pearly whites in a heroic manner. He set off in the opposite direction knowing he would meet up with his brother in a moment and that the parting of ways would last a moment and surely it did. As they stopped at a halt in front of each other, Fred watched George send a stunning spell straight into the back of an un-expecting death eater. George held his palm out and Fred sent a high five his way. As they rounded to the bottom of the great hall staircase they bumped into a familiar face. Percy Weasley. Fred cracked a joke as Percy told him he was resigning from the Ministry. At one end of the hall stood Augustus Rookwood. George watched in anguish at something he would remember from the remainder of his life. There was a sudden large explosion and in the midst the one whom was identical to George thumped to the ground where he lay how he lived. Laughter even occurs in darkness, especially in the face of death.

R.I.P Fred Weasley.


[ Rufus Scrimgeour ]

Alone in his office trying to figure out how he could put across the appearance of safety and protection, Scrimgeour heard a series of muffled screaming through the tinted glass in his office door. As he jumped to his feet the best way he could without his walking stick; Lord Voldermort made himself a prime sight. A blast of searing pain ran through the elder man’s body and caused him to writhe in pain. This was the end. However he would stand for what he was in power to do. He was made to squirm on the floor like the fearful animal he resembled. Proud and strong though he was he was the prey for the world’s largest predator. He was questioned intensely; a great mind like the Dark Lord’s probed and poked for vital information but the strong man kept firm and put his life’s work in action as a way of blocking his thoughts of the place of residence where the boy who would save the world would be at that very moment. The thing about prey is that it never escapes the clutches of a predator the only difference is certain types of predators use instruments rather than get their robes dirty.

R.I.P Rufus Scrimgeour


[ Dobby the free House elf ]


For Dobby to be in Harry Potters presence meant victory in its self. To be so close to the one who everyone looked up to, be even be associated with him made him a famous house elf. It was his job to ensure his friends safety even though Harry had told him to never save his life again. He was a brave, loyal house-elf, willing to put himself in dangerous situations when he knew it to be the right thing to do. Dobby had transported the lovely Lovegood girl and poor Mr Olivander to Shell Cottage. The view had been spectacular and cosy. You would never usually find a house elf there. As Dobby came face to face with his old Mistress’s and Masters he gulped back his fear and set out to save Harry Potter and his friends. Such a brave move proving that even the smaller people can overturn chance. As Dobby dropped a medieval chandelier in a desperate attempt at a diversion so Harry Potter’s friends could get away from the evil clutches of Bellatrix Lestrange. Dobby quickly told a hold of Mr Wheezy and Miss Granger before clutching on to Harry Potter who had made a grab at Griphook the goblin. As dobby’s tennis-ball green eyes glanced around the room he saw a sharp object coming towards those he feared for. He turned and a small pop was heard around the room. After a few magical swirls and beautiful scenery emerged all around them Dobby felt a searing pain under his chest at which he now clutched at. Harry Potter had scooped up the fatally wounded house elf and was now shouting something Dobby could not understand. Dobby reached out and touched Harry’s face and spoke to him slowly. “Harry...Potter” Was all he had to say before his eyes shut beyond his control.

R.I.P Dobby the free House elf.


[ Alastor Mad-Eye Moody ]

Mad-Eye was the fierce one, the one with the tough exterior and the brave face. Never just an act, a way of life; His life.
He was on a mission, on a constant look out. Vigilance was the key. He had spent many years of his life as an active Auror and knew all there was to know. He had devised a cunning plan that everyone else thought brilliant but even in the smallest closet of his mind he knew the Dark Lord would assume the same thing. He wished Mundungas Fletcher had never given him the ridiculous idea for he couldn’t come up with his own. Even as he rose up in air on a broom with Mundungas Fletcher from the ground of Privet Drive, the residence of muggles he had a feeling they had been detected and sure enough in an instant black hooded figures were surrounding them. The air was filled with green and red jets of magic. Mad-Eye caught sight of those who were Bill and Fleur and also of Ron and Tonks who were giving the Death eaters a run for their money. As a result of the magic flying around, Dung next to him was getting pretty panicky as was expected as someone of such background. As of the beginning Lord Voldermort joined in the chase. Mad-Eye was ready for him but apparently the truth soon came that Mundungas was not and just as he was un-loyal he was a friend and disapparated leaving Alastor Moody open into the night as his wand was blasted from his hand and he came face to face with Lord Voldemort. For those who are afraid of heights it does not matter when one’s eyes are closed.

R.I.P Alastor Mad-Eye Moody


[ Severus Snape ]

As the brave soldier began to bargain with Lord Voldermort it became apparent that he had lost all pride and sense of reason. Usually Severus Snape was relaxed around Lord Voldermort because he knew he was important to the success of all his plans. However, right now his duties and needs were coming to an abrupt end, as he began offering out his services in many different ways with disguised ulterior motives behind each plea. Severus Snape’s black eyes ran back into his head as the Snake lunged and pierced into his ice cold skin. He did not scream in pain, he did not move. No satisfaction would be given. When death began to take its hold, Severus welcomed it peacefully, his eyes blurred as he saw her son. He beckoned him over and gave him a meaningful and delicate memory. Everything would fit together once this boy had seen everything and then he would be rewarded in a later life. He helped bring down her murderer. He Severus Snape was a man of many traits but loyalty to Dumbledore was one that had forever shone through. As he lay there with Harry Potter in his midst he noticed how it felt to have life slip from his grasp. He quickly spoke to Harry Potter. “Look... at... me...” In order to see Lily Evans eyes one more time. However he did not think of Lily Evans but of her son Harry Potter. He had helped him and that is all he had ever wanted. Lily would be so proud and this made it all worthwhile.


R.I.P Severus Snape.


The candle that shines twice as bright burns half as long.

[Duddahs]

Interesting group of one shots.. They are almost more thoughts or mini chapters.

Thanks for sharing!

[pseudonym]

Thanks Duddahs!

Dear death,




July 15th 1973,

Dear Diary,
I bought you today with the money I took from my mother’s purse. She’ll never know, she’ll just think she overspent on little Miss Perfect downstairs. Well no, not over spent, you could never over spend on the favourite child; just cut the budget a bit. She should have bought you from the side walk sale when I asked, begged and pleaded and I wouldn’t have had to steal from her. She never gets me anything, I never get new things for my room where as my sister… the girl that lives in the same house as I do gets new things for her room all the time, and she only spends three months in there every year. Not that I’m jealous over that ginger cow. Oh sorry, red haired beauty as my parents describe her. You wouldn’t like my parents; they’re stuck up snobs, with no sense of reality. You’d probably love my sister though, everyone does! I’ll be writing again soon, probably to let you know she’s been kicked out of her freak school for magicians, probably couldn’t master a stupid trick.

Love, Petunia xxx





December 2nd 1973,

Dear Diary,
I have some bad news. She is still at that freak school. However no matter, it doesn’t bother me, she’s out of my hair for a few months, but my parents are still all about ‘Lily’. They never shut up about her. Half of the time they are talking about her to me and don’t even notice that I leave the room. I swear if I didn’t know how to cook for myself I wouldn’t get fed. I’m sorry for not writing in months, my mother misplaced you when she used my room for storage for Lily’s things. Don’t worry, I found you when I shot her things out of my bedroom window. I am currently grounded, but it doesn’t matter I don’t have anywhere to go anyway. It’s not like I ever had friends while Lily was around, and that just means I get more time with you than I do with my awful parents. One day they’ll realise the pain they cause me. Oh lord, there she goes again, on the phone to her friends telling them the accomplishments of her favourite daughter. I wish she’d just shut up, or at least drop the phone down the stairs so that it was beyond repair… or if she were to slip… I have to go, I’ll write when I can.

Love, Petunia xxx





April 26th 1974,

Dear Diary,
She’s home again. For the Easter holidays, why can’t she just stay at her stupid school?
She cooked dinner yesterday, she can’t even cook! It was horrible and I got grounded again for saying so. Why don’t they just say that she’s a disgrace to the family and ship her off to her school as a one way thing? Oh yeah, she’s their little girl. I’m not going down for her cooking today, I’d rather choke, which I would if I ate her food again. I can cook you know? I’ll maybe write about it one day but for now I’m going to go rid my body of her food.

Love, Petunia xxx





December 24th 1975,

Dear Diary,
Although you may moments, after I write this I just want you to know that I have taken revenge. Her awful cooking finally gave me inspiration to show my parents what awful cooking really is. The house is going to be up in flames shortly and soon I will hear their screams, shame the front door is locked. I shall be climbing down my window escaping unharmed, for my parents I’m not so sure. Ha, too bad, I grew sympathetic and didn’t allow her to come home for the holidays. I must be a witch because I just came of age at seventeen with no one to tell me what to do and no one to judge me, because I’m not perfect. I’m going to laugh until I cry, life suddenly doesn’t seem so bad, maybe I was a freak all along, no, maybe not but I was always the better sister and I just proved that. The nice boy from a few blocks away is waiting a few houses down in his new car, I must hurry, and we plan to have a baby you know? I’m going to be the best mother imaginable.

Love, Petunia xxx

[Duddahs]

Bookends
Written by Duddahs the Great Barn Owl
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The warmth of the sun had finally broken through the mass of fluffy clouds that had obscured the sky for far too long.

Angelina was rubbing her bare arms with the palms of her hands and soaking in the tingling feeling as a smile broke out across her face. She just could not help it. She loved spring and here it was, barely but it was finally here.

As she walked down the cobbled stone road, the sounds and smells of the various shops floated out into the alley. Memories flooded her mind.

She almost felt as if she were walking on those clouds that had hung around for months and months. Her mind drifted in and out as she smiled broadly and made small waves to the many witches and wizards that passed by her or stood in the doorways of their shops. They too were so happy to have spring upon them once more.

Mr. Blotts called out, “hello there Angelina, nice day isn’t it?”

“Oh yes it is a beautiful day, just beautiful Mr. Blotts.” Angelina responded her steps all the more lively now.

From the corner of her eye Angelina noticed a small figure standing in the window of Madam Malkin’s shop. It was Madam Malkin smiling out at the world and waving to Angelina as she passed her shop. The sound of a door bell tinkling and off in the distance and the figure disappeared into the depths of the shop.

Angelina continued her stroll down Diagon Alley, nodding and smiling all the while. Just as she passed the restored Olivander’s Wand Shop she spotted something odd, far down the alley way.

Her steps sped up a bit and the clicking of her new shoes upon the cobblestones could be heard to become a bit more frantic in their cadence.

There it was now, right in front of her. Their shop, hers and Georges, oh and Ron’s as well. Pink and purple bubbles were gushing out of the basement windows which were just at street level. These small windows had never before garnered here attention but then again, they were never before spewing out streams and streams of bubbles.

Angelina ran to the shops front door and threw it open wide and just yelled, “George, Ron, where is everyone?”

She looked around in a panic, her heart now in her throat. Unable to swallow she found that her words would no longer come to her aid.

“Whatcha up to Angie?” Ron asked as if nothing were happening at all out of the ordinary.

The words just would not form as the panicked Angelina now ran from the entrance door to the counter where Ron was standing. He just stared at his Sister-in-Law with utter amusement and wonder. His mouth slightly agape and a somewhat blank look in his eyes, something Ron was far too well known to give on a regular basis.

“Bu, Bu, Bub, Buzzbles, No Buzzdables, blasted, BUBBLES!” she finally spat out.

“HUH? Watcha going on about, bubbles Angie?” Ron asked.

“Basement, it is flooding the streets with Bubbles, Pink and Purple, all sizes and shapes. Where is George?”

Her frantic tone now had Ron’s hair on his arms stand on end as he moved to her to try to calm her down.

“Show me Angie, where?”

Without another word, Angelina had grabbed Ron’s hand and was now pulling him outside into the Alley as if she were a mad woman.

“There, look at it, spewing out of the basement windows! Where is George? Ron, where is George?”

Ron just stood and stared for a moment as a huge bubble the size of a Hippogriff floated up and away from one of the basement windows only to be taken away on the soft spring breeze and then skyward until it was finally out of sight.

“Did you see that Angelina? That was bloody brilliant!” Ron asked of her.

“Where is George, Ron? I am not going to ask you again before I take my broom and wrap it round that big head of yours.”

Ron knew better than to mess with any of the woman in his family, be they married into it or born a Weasley. They had the fire of a Blast Ended Skrewt in them when they were not listened to or obeyed. Ron was thankful at times like these that there were far more Weasley men than woman in his life. They were just too darned unpredictable.

Angelina stood there in the middle of Diagon Alley, gazing up at the mechanical hat moving up and down and the white rabbit appearing and disappearing. This was the trademark sign of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes and a sight known to every person that has walked down Diagon Alley for many a year now.

“Well, it was like this Angie; the last time I saw George, well he had Fred and Roxane with him and a long roll of clear plastic tube thrown over his shoulder.”

Finally the answer she had been looking for but now even more panic crossed her face as her blood suddenly ran cold in her veins.

“With Fred and Roxane, where, where were they going? Not into that basement office of his again? Please Ron; tell me he did not bring the kids down there with those experiments of his, please!”

He could see that she was serious, that her panic was well founded too. George has been very busily experimenting of late, deep into the early morning hours. He was coming home blackened and burnt more often than not. Angelina and Ron knew why too.

Today was April 1st; April 1st was his birthday, their birthday, his and Fred’s. Not young Fred’s but George’s twin. It was always a bittersweet birthday for George these days. To remember his brother as they once were, once so happy, playful, full of life and full of adventure.

George seemed to become a little bit more reckless these days before the anniversary of their births. Everyone knew just to give him a little bit more space than normal but with the children? No, this was just not like him; he would never harm the little ones, their pride and joy.

Angelina once again grabbed Ron’s arm and dragged him back into the shop and now they were descending the basement stairs toward the storage lockers and George’s personal workshop at the speed of a Thestral.

“George, GEORGE, FRED, ROXANE, where are you? GEORGE?” Angelina yelled out into the dimly lit area filled with stacked boxes and all manners of buzzing and clunking Thom Foolery.

“Angie? Over here, come on, join us, and come on dear!” George’s voice broke the sudden silence.

Angelina ran toward the workshop, still with Ron in tow. Then the sight that presented itself stopped here dead in her tracks. So suddenly and abrupt was her motion that Ron actually ran right into her, knocking her down to the floor and into a heap of waving arms and legs.

Once Angelina regained her composure she could just look up from the prone position she had attained on the floor.

There was her husband, George, her son Fred and Roxane their lovely Ginger haired daughter all blowing into a long straw that led directly to a barrel of liquid in the corner.

Massive amounts of Bubbles of all sizes and lively Pinks and Purples rushed out of another straw that protruded from the side of the barrel. The stream of bubbles then followed the sunlight that seemed to be somewhat obscured by the sheer volume of bubbles themselves. Out the windows and into the streets of Diagon Alley they sped on their way to Sunshine and fresh air.

Relieved that everyone appeared to be safe and sound, Angelina looked at her husband and snapped “What, what is all of this and why with the children?”

A devilish and childlike grin crossed Georges face. From ear to what once was another ear, it was infectious and the children both began to giggle uncontrollably. Roxane fell upon the floor alongside her mother, tears rolling down from her squinted eyes. She laughed so hard that she was having trouble catching her breath.

“What? We are celebrating dear. The Weasley Wizard Wheezes newest success, Fred Weasley Forever Magical Blowing Bubbles”.

“Sheesh, I knew it was something like that,” Ron’s self-assured tone.

With a quick swipe of her foot, Angelina had just knocked Ron’s foot out from under himself and he fell rear end first into a large batch of pink bubbles as they were on their way to escape out into Springs warmth.

Angelina stood up, brushed herself off and now grinned back at George as little Fred and Roxane rushed to her side both grabbing her hands and drawing her towards one of the straws protruding out of the barrel.

“Go on Mom, yeah, go on Mom, give it a try! They are so much fun and they remind Daddy of Uncle Fred he says”, urged Little Fred and Roxane of her.

“Oh you Weasley’s, you are going to be the death of me!”

As Angelina put the loose straw to her lips and began to puff as hard into it as she could. The bubbles that came out were some of the biggest and most impressive bubbles yet. The children both clapped and stomped their feet requesting even more and bigger bubbles from her.

Angelina let down the straw for a moment, moved toward her husband and ever so gently just kissed him on the forehead.

“I love you George Weasley.”

With that Angelina Weasley went back to creating some of the most magical and fantastic bubbles of all Wizarding time or at least they thought they were.

[Duddahs]

Title : And Baby Makes Three


Prompt; A House Elf Wedding

Written by; Duddahs the Great Barn Owl [hedwig]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


There, directly ahead of them was a small innocuous strip of flattened Wheat Grass. The rest of the field surrounding it billowed in the soft summer breeze in a golden blaze that seemed to be liquid and ethereal in its movement and the almost silent rustling sound it produced.

The proud old Wizard who sat at the very front of his Axeminster Flying Carpet brought his pride and joy in for a smooth and effortless landing. Even in the Wizarding World, the Axeminster was considered a rarity, having been brought to England by a very crude Arab who was himself suspect of some shady dealings.

Once the large carpet with its cargo of a young Wizarding family was firmly on terra firma, a stunningly beautiful woman of about 19 stood and began to stretch her limbs as if it had been a very long and somewhat difficult ride for her. At a second glance it was apparent that this young witch was with child and this explained her discomfort having just arrived in the lap of luxury.

“Off you go, everyone off the carpet. I don’t want to have to have the fringe redone again due to those varmints that run around in these open fields, no siree, never again,” spouted the elderly Wizard at the head of the carpet.

With this, an extremely handsome while very tired looking young man took hold of their belongings and brought himself to his full standing height and moved off the Oriental Carpet as quickly as he could.

“Be back by 7 to pick yah up. Got me some work to do back at the house before that little one come a knockin at the front door im or err self,” the old man said with an odd clicking noise coming from his teeth.

In a moment, the carpet rose to a tremendous height and was no longer visible to the naked eye.

Charis Black Crouch reached into her evening bag and nearly half of her arm sank into the small draw string opening when she finally exhaled and let out a sigh.

“You see what I told you Caspar, I did not leave it at home on the piano. What kind of Witch do you think I am anyway? Some sort of fly by night, bubble head charmed bimbo? You never believe me no matter what I say. If it were not for me, you would not be where you are today; do you hear me Caspar Crouch, well? Huh? Did I make myself perfectly clear? Well, answer me. Kneazle got your tongue?” the small and with child woman ran demanded.

“Yes dear, as you say my dear, yes dear, of course dear,” the young man who stood next to the young woman retorted.

“All I can say is that when this thing is finally out and over with, I want one of these for us. What kind of Pureblood Family are we? Not even having our own? I can barely face the other Witches on the street while I am in this condition. Who would have believed it, me a Black, one of THE Blacks living in such conditions, with that crazy old Wizard Father of yours and no help to be found. NONE! What does he think we Blacks are? PACK MULES?"

The young man suppressed a snicker and a slight noise escaped his lips which he quickly covered up with a forced cough.

“Look at this thing, it must have cost them at least 10 galleons to have these things made and for what, two House Elves being brought together? Like it is not as if their names had not been written down in the records at their birth to which they were going to be mated with. Oh, no it has to be my cousin-in-law Walburga and her idiot husband who are going to have to go out and guild the lily. Show everyone what they are made of, who they are and who we supposedly aren’t. After all, I am more of a Black than she ever would be. If it had not been for her falling into the dumb open arms of that imbecilic Orion Black, who knows what she would have married. Then who would be throwing the most fashionable event of the summer? Huh, answer me that Mr. Crouch. Why can’t we be throwing the party of the season and having Witches and Wizards flying in from all corners of the world to gawk at our conspicuous consumption? Huh, well? Tell me Mr. Crouch, what have you to say for yourself?”

The obviously now downtrodden young man finally found time while his young wife breathed in for a moments silence to respond, “Yes dear, absolutely, whatever you say dear, right away my love,”

The young couple now moved toward the lovely brick and mortar town houses that stood at the end of Grimmauld Place. The field off to the side of the final row of houses was Grimmauld’s Farm or at least what remained of the ancestral grounds of the mighty Grimmauld/Black family dynasty of Witches and Wizards.

There, hidden between the gleaming new structures of Numbers 11 and Numbers 13 Grimmauld Place stood what had become now Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

Not too long ago this was the very sight of the ruins of the Grimmauld/Black family’s 13th Century estate. Over time the elements had run its course and now where once stood a hulking shell of former grandeur the old building had now been replaced by a stunning new development. Not a single muggle the wiser to boot. Number 12 had had ever enchantment placed upon it to keep the prying eyes of the lowly muggle world from ever seeing or discovering its location.

To the average passerby muggle, it just seemed that the construction company had made an odd error by forgetting to place a number 12 over the front vestibule doorway. So it just became lore that the builder who had always considered number 13 to be his lucky number and number 12 to be unlucky, chose to overlook the one and moved on to the next, HIS luck number 13.

Ahead of the young couple was a pair of elegant witches, decked out in their finest of finery. The Elf made jewelry that hung from both of the witches was so ostentatious that one could not keep themselves from gawking and taking a second glance. Only then to realize that Muriel Prewett and Bathilda Bagshot were not only MONEY, but old, VERY OLD MONEY indeed.

“Oh my dear Muriel, of course not, there is just no way that she could or ever would have. Not after what has happened to those muggle boys? Not that I blame him one second for killing them you see. I say, step one toe across the line and we Witches and Wizards are well within our right to cut that toe right off,” stated the stiff jewel bedecked witch on the left ahead of the young Crouch’s.

“Yes, of course I do agree 100 percent. Merlin only knows that I do feel sorry for his wife though, what is her name? Kendra something or the other I do believe?”

“Kendra Dumbledore and you mark my word, those children are going to be a handful for her to raise all by herself now. She has even chosen to move around the block from me. Would you believe it? In Godric’s Hollow no less. Well, I will make a call upon her in the morning with a basket of baked goods. You know we independent woman must stick together.”

“Yes, stick together like thieves,” as the two witches broke out into a pleasant sounding laughter. The sound just drifted off onto the warmth of the summer’s breeze.

As the two Witches approached the large Black Door of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, an elderly House Elf stood at attention. His large saucer shaped brown eyes glistened in the mid days sunlight as his ears stood even more at attention than did he.

“Invitations Please?” requested the elderly House Elf as he held his right hand out in front of his newly cleaned pillow case toga.

The two woman were sent into a sudden giggling attack as each rifled through their hand bags in pursuit of the object in question.

Then Bathilda withdrew from her bag first, a glorious Sterling Silver placard with Green Enamel worked lettering. She promptly handed it to the Old House Elf as she turned to ensure that her companion for the afternoon’s festivities also had remembered to bring her own invitation with her.

“Here it is, how I could have almost forgotten it. I actually walked out of the house twice today without it. I was so worried that the Emeralds that I was wearing in my Tiara would not match the Fire Opals in my bracelet and then there was the problem of matching just the right red in the necklace rubies to the ruby and diamond ring that my mother passed down to me.”

“Oh for Merlins sake Muriel, you are a right fraud you are. I know for a fact from a very reliable source that you took that ring right off your mother’s hand while she lay in her casket.” Bathilda whispered with a bit of evil in her laugh.

“I can never get anything past you Bathilda Bagshot, not one single thing.”

The House Elf took the two invitations from the Witches and placed them in a small silver box with no cover. It too was filled with invitations from previous presenters.

“Did you hear that? Stole that ring right off of her dead mother’s hand! Well, I never!” shot Charis.

“Yes dear, whatever you say dear, as soon as we get home my love,” Whispered Casper Crouch as they approached the Black Front Door of number 12 Grimmauld Place.

The old House Elf once again extended his right hand and asked, “Invitation Please?”

“Do you believe these people, actually recycling the Sterling Silver Invitations? Not so high and mighty after all, now is we Walburga Black?” Mocked Charis.

“No, Madam has misunderstood; the invitations will be melted down and turned into party favors by the time the nuptials have been completed. Please do not tell my mistress that I have told you this, Ole Dexter has been here with the Blacks for so long that he himself forgets where he originally came from.”

Dexter the old House Elf bowed so low that his long and crooked nose scraped the front porch bricks.

“Your secret is safe with me, what did you say your name was? Baxter?”

“Dexter lovely Madam, I am the father of the Groom you see. Thank you, thank you Madam.”

The House Elf pushed the front door open with his left hand while his head was still lowered in respect to the guests of the Ancient House of Black.

As Charis and Casper crossed the threshold of the newly built home of the Black Family, one could not be taken aback by the grandeur and opulent elegance that was bestowed upon its visitors. The walls were covered in the most luxurious French fashioned silk of Silver and Green threads in a repeating pattern of the Black Family Crest.

Down the long Vestibule hallway one was greeted by painted faces upon canvas of Black Family members long since passed on. The woodwork was of the most exquisitely hand carved shields and crests. The banisters newel post was a single Pineapple carved out of solid spinach Jade. Carved Acorns of Amber from Russia adorned the baluster railings going up to the second floor about halfway down the entrance hallway.
There at the end of the hallways was an extremely rare Mountain Troll foot now turned into a walking stick stand. It was filled with umbrellas in every shade of silk imaginable. Walking sticks carved with Serpent heads, Hippogriff likeness and of course Silver and Gold and Jewels that would boggle one’s mind.

“Ah my dear, don’t you look just scrumptious in that outfit. Lovely, simply lovely,” welcomed Walburga Black.

Charis stood firmly in place, the look upon her face was one of utter disgust. Then she broke out into a large toothy smile. It was a forced smile of course but none the less.

“Yes my dear cousin Charis, Orion and I have already discussed this and we are going to be giving you and your soon to be born child a shower, here at Grimmauld Place. And you are going to be so pleased, oh I really am such a big mouth, I really should not even have mentioned this, but Orion and I have already decided that we are going to give you and your husband, Caspion is it? The first born of our House Elf that is to be joined today.”

Charis Black Crouch stood dumbfounded. She was both thrilled to death to be offered a House Elf of her own and disgusted by the fact that Walburga Black had once again stolen any thunder that should rightfully be hers and hers alone.

“Oh thank you Walburga, you are as always too, too kind. Now where are these lovely things that are being joined today?” asked Charis in a mock tone of care.

“Right this way, the nuptials are just about to begin. Please do be careful of the stand, it does seem to get in the way of some who are not particularly aware or familiar with these surroundings.”

Charis and Casper were being shown into the large parlor, which was already filled to the rafters and wall to wall of every Witch and Wizard who were anyone in the Wizarding World when the words filtered through the sunlit room, past the heavily draped front windows. The voice of the Minister of Magic himself presiding over this occasion came in loud and clear.

“We are here today to join in union the betrothed, of the Family of Hepzibah Smith the House Elf named Hockey to be legally joined in union under the auspices and overseen by the laws set forth by the Ministry of Magic to the loyal servant of the Ancient House of Black, the House Elf known as Kreacher.

Will you all please stand?”

The ceremony lasted but a few moments. There was no exchange of kisses, no rings to be put upon the finger of the now united partner. None of that was to occur, just the conclusion of the ceremony demonstrated by a loud closing of the book that was held by the Minister of Magic.

Charis Black Crouch turned to her husband with a wide grin plastered upon her face. When Casper did not immediately notice his wife’s enthusiasm, she sharply nudged him in the ribs with her elbow.

“OOOFFF, I am sorry dear, yes you are right, absolutely right, I agree with you 100 percent.”

The sharpened tongue of his wife cut through his mind like a hot poker just removed from a roaring fire.

“Winky, Winky. Yes, that is what we will call it when Walburga hands it over as she has PROMISED TO! I am finally going to live the life I have always envisioned Casper. WE will have a House Elf and its name will be Winky. Lovely don’t you think?”

Casper just nodded in agreement with his wife, for honestly, what else could he do?

“And we have finally decided on our Son’s name, Bartemius, Bartemius Crouch. Distinguished, don’t you agree? I can just see it now. On the front page of the Daily Prophet; “Bartemius Crouch, Minister of Magic and most powerful Wizard of all time!””

Charis was so pleased with her own imagination of what was to come that she could barely contain herself even though she was surrounded by dozens of the most influential Witches and Wizards as well as the Minister of Magic none less.

Caspers face became vacant as he looked into the eyes of his wife. She had made her decision and there was nothing more or less that could be said that would matter worth a sickle. Bartemius Crouch it would be. He would just have to bite his own tongue every time he called his own son by this hideous name. And a House Elf named Winky, Winky of all ghastly names. But to make ones wife happy was to die a happy husband he believed.

A tray had just walked by as if floating upon the air in the room itself, but no, it was actually Kreacher back at work for his masters. No time to dawdle as a House Elf’s lot in life is pre-determined. Hokey was already bent low on all fours and being used as a foot stool by her Mistress, Hepzabah Smith who was regaling in a story of how she had recently acquired a particular piece of Wizarding history from an unsuspecting member of her own family. An ancient cup which surely held powers far beyond those that could be imagined by any mere Witch or Wizard.

Charis Crouch leaned in to her husband, took his hand in her own and whispered into his ear, "Everything is going to be just perfect, you just wait and see."

[pseudonym]

Glad you could share that one Duddahs, I read it on the Wb site, but no chit chat is allowed so I'm replying to it here, it's wonderful.

[Duddahs]

Oh thanks so much Pseud...

Duddahs is a humbled ole bird he is...

Tucks his beak beneath his wing..

That reminds me... Got to get some Antiperspirant.. WHEW!

[Duddahs]

Title: In My Mind’s Eye
Prompt: Sirius in Azkaban
Written by; Duddahs the Great Barn Owl

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“Oh for Merlin’s sake James, you have to be kidding!”

“Nah, I have to stop doing it whether I want to or not Sirius. Lily has already come to her senses about Snape but if I don’t leave him alone I am likely to have one heck of a time ever getting her to come back to my side again.” James states with a bit of worry in his voice

“Well, maybe she is not worth all the trouble in the first place. Has that thought ever entered your mind even once?”

“You know how I feel about her Sirius; she is my destiny. It is not as if it is really something that is under my control. We are made for each other and that is the last thing I am ever going to say on this subject,” James states forcefully.

“Yeah, like this is going to be the last time, yeah right, go on dreaming. You’ll see; one day you are going to wake up and she is going to be gone and what will you be left with? I’ll tell you what, a huge hole in your chest, a thumping in your head and the four of us. That’s what you are going to be left with. “

James looks at me with a scowl on his face as anger slowly creeps across his handsome features. A bead of sweat develops above his brow and slides over the bridge of his nose. Re-routed by his glasses it rolls over the side and travels down his cheek.

“See, she has already turned you into a pretty pink Pygmy Puff.”

I continue tormenting James and egging him on, all the while knowing full well that his commitment to Lily is unshakeable.
She has come to be known now as the fifth of four Marauders, the original four consisting of myself, James, Remus and Peter. I view Lily as an interloper, pushing her way into our group and disrupting our fun.

Anyone at Hogwarts with eyes knows that the Marauders, as we have dubbed ourselves, are inseparable. Nothing and nobody can come between us. Well, no one that is until Lily Evans came along.

“Yeah, well, you know James, beauty is only skin deep and I will not let my best mate go turning himself inside out for a few years of pretty when he just might get stuck with a lifetime of ugly. They say you should never pick your wife without taking a good look at her mother first. The ole apple does not fall very far from the tree you know!”

I wink at Peter and Remus who are both sitting with their backs against the tree. James is hanging upside down from a low hanging limb by the back of his knees. Sometimes I think James and I should just run away together, the two of us, and join the Wizards Circus.

“Shut it you! It’s not like you were cut from the fanciest of cloth yourself you know!” James snorts at me.

Stinging at my very core, I feel that familiar pang deep down inside my stomach. It’s been happening more and more since that warm day September 1st, six years ago, when James and I found ourselves sharing a compartment on the Hogwarts Express.

This sick feeling makes my head swoon a bit. Sometimes, when I get to feeling like this, the jumbled garble that falls from my mouth makes absolutely no sense to anybody. This is the opposite of my normal demeanor, having always been known as the coolest and smoothest of the in kids at Hogwarts.

I recognize this feeling but there is no way on earth I am going to let a single Witch or Wizard know about it. I think that if I just ignore it the feeling will go away as quickly as it came; it just has to.

Then it happens, a quick flash of Ginger in my face followed by a loud thud.

As I regain my vision, I realize it is Lily’s hair blowing across my face as she seats herself right next to me. Her back is now firmly pressed against my shoulder as she gives me a quick peck on the cheek.

“Hi Sirius, Remus, Peter. Uh, you OK there James? I hope you didn’t break anything”, Lily quips. Apparently the loud thud was James’s not so elegant descent from the tree limb.

“Yeah, I’m all right; meant to do that yeah know. It’s the only way to get down from that limb without having to use Peter as a step stool and breaking every bone in his body.” James laughs.

I hear Remus snicker as Peter turns toward James with a look of utter bewilderment plastered across his face.

“Me? Why Me? Why would you have to use me as your step stool? Why not Remus here; he is used to being beat upon, so why not him?” Peter whines.

My hand comes around so quickly that it takes Peter by complete surprise. He finds himself suddenly pulled into a headlock as we all administer a liberal amount of noogies to the top of his head.

“Boys, boys, will you please act your respective ages? At this rate everyone is going to think you have all been held back and are being forced to start as first years all over again!” Lily scolds.

“You know she might have something there, huh James? Maybe we should figure out a way to go back to our first year here at Hogwarts, this time taking with us all the knowledge and the spells that we now know. Could you imagine that?”

A feeling of security once again fills my insides as the horrible sick feeling subsides. The sound of James laughter as his arm drapes over my shoulders makes me feel so comforted even though I know his hand is playfully combing its way through Lily’s long Ginger locks; locks that are now gently spread out covering her back as well as my arm and side.

I feel a wonderful warm sense of being loved. Pressed between the two people in this world that make me most at home with myself, I find myself drifting off in a warm afterglow of emotions.

Suddenly there is a deafening loud sucking sound, so hideous that pressure begins to build in my ears. Caught off guard, my eyes feel as if they are being pulled deep within my scull and my breath halted.

I gasp for air, any air, only to find a putrid and foul replacement for Oxygen entering my lungs. It burns like nothing else I have ever felt before.

My insides are being squeezed as if I am being forced through a rubber tube no wider than a garden hose.

My mind begins to blur, as a thick blackened fog blocks my vision. At this moment, even if I were capable of holding my own hand in front of my nose I would not be able to see it.

My splitting headache doubles, then triples in intensity as my fingers go extremely cold. A sick feeling rises from deep within my stomach, no deeper, from down inside my very bowels.

“Oh lord, I am going to be sick! No, I can’t, not here, not in front of him; oh please lord no!”

“If I curl up as tight as possible into a ball I know this feeling will pass. It’ll pass, it has to, I have to make it pass.”

“James, James, Lily, James please help me. If there is a lord in Heaven please help me now. I promise I will give you whatever you want; do whatever you ask of me. Please just make this go away, PLEASE!”


The blackened fog of the Dementors begins to evaporate before my eyes. The darkness and despair that obscured everything is passing, allowing me to regain sight but only in black and white. The color has not only drained from my skin but also from my vision and possibly from my very soul.

A figure begins to take shape a few feet in front of me.

I try to make my mouth open but am not able to make an audible sound. I am left panting as if life itself had been within seconds of being pulled from my being and is just now drawing back in with the greatest of difficulty.

The first color I am able to distinguish is green; bright green, the color has begun to return to my vision and soul. I can make out the color but of what?

“Ah, yes Black, I see you are still clinging to life” a voice says. “Have you developed some sick affection for torture? Have you got a thing for the Dementors?” That voice, I know that voice! The sound of it burns into my brain.


The little bit of warmth that begins to return to my extremities is now causing a burning sensation at their very tips. It’s as if a blazing fire is starting to melt my skin. The pain begins to spread throughout my body. I am trying desperately to focus and make out the form before me.

“Fudge,” the word bursts from my mouth. I do not even know where the strength came from to form the thought or the word.

“I can see him now, that rotter; fat little idiot that he is. Thinks he is something special with that acid green bowler of his. Minister of Magic, bah, idiot of the earth is more like it!”

As my eyes continue to focus my gaze is drawn to the Daily Prophet Fudge clutches in his hand. The moving image on the front page consists of people vacationing in Egypt and “What? NO! HOW COULD HE BE WITH THEM THERE?” my mind begins to race a million miles a second. I suddenly feel as if I were strapped upside down on a speeding broom.

“Calm down Sirius, I say to myself, calm yourself down. Act normal, you can do it. The Dementors haven’t taken everything away from you yet. It is the only way to get the newspaper from him.”

“M-m-m, M-m-minister Fudge? M-m-may I p-p-please have that paper when you a-a-a-a are f-f-f-finished with it?”

“My paper, for Merlin’s sake what on earth for? Need to follow up on your Social Life do you?” Fudge’s condescending tone is threatening and the words delivered with such contempt that I begin to feel weakness in my muscles.

I am laying in a fetal position on the cold and damp floor of my cell. I feel The Prophet as it hits me against the side of my head and then drops into my outstretched arms. I feel a sudden exhilaration that I have not felt in years, in what now seems to be a lifetime.

Next I hear the wrought iron door of my living tomb slam shut. This is followed by howls and screams of utter despair and wretched pain. Sounds I realize I had somehow become immune to but which I now find frightening beyond my wildest nightmares.

The sick feeling deep down in my bowels begins to boil up again………………...

[pseudonym]

Oh wow Duddahs thats fantastic, I was reading it out loud, enjoying myself! If there is ever a 'Mafoy ' related prompt over on HPDC, I hope this would be your entry!

[Duddahs]

Thanks so much for the kind words Pseudo, I had actually forgotten I wrote that a while back.

Re read it, like it, find tons of typo;s and corrections but still not too shabby huh?

[pseudonym]

Oooh, I'm such a muggle I must have been on a different page for the Malfoy one, you must of been confused, I didn't even see the one recently. But the Malfoy one is love love love! I'm going to read your recent one soon, I'm busy right now

[Duddahs]

Title: A Friend in Need
Prompt: My Summer Vacation by Luna Lovegood
Written by; Duddahs the Great Barn Owl

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The sun barely peaked over the hillside of Ottery St. Catchpole; just a sliver of orange against a dark blue sky, giving way to the outline of a Rook like form far off in the distance. As the morning dew coated flowers and blades of grass, insects and birds started their daily ritual once more; a never ending cycle in the chain of life.

Across dozens of acres of untouched golden wheat grass; billowing ever so gracefully in the gentle morning breeze, the soothing rustle of tall grasses created a sound that reminded one of being nearer to the sea than of being in a meadow so far inland.

Crossing the meadow one would find themselves hip deep in the flow of Wheat Grass. A little further along they would be confronted by a massive wall of sunflowers; 4 meters high and a good stone’s throw deep.

The mighty heads of the sunflowers look down, each over-sized giant plant passing silent judgment upon those adventurous enough to cross the meadow and enter the burrows beyond.

Once past these golden guardians, butterfly laced fields of wildflowers come into view. Every wondrous shade of color imaginable surpassed by yet another more stunning and more exquisite.

Wild pink roses give way to massive blooms of ancient rose stock with buds the size of a full grown wizard’s fist. When open, each flower reveals a display so elaborate that it would make even the most experienced dress maker cry with envy at the tufts and tucks of each petal.

Further along, uneven rows of Daisies mix with Black Eyed Susan’s as they sway rhythmically back and forth. Raising their heads towards the heavens they appear to sing morning hymns to the butterflies and bubble bees who gather to greet them each day.


As the sun rises above the highest crest of the hillside, the silhouette of the Lovegood House slowly takes shape. That is, of course, if you happen to be a Witch or Wizard. Otherwise all you see is an unusually shaped shadow effect; created by a cluster of fauna that appear to be far off in the distance.

A concealment charm of the first order has indeed been used to mask the true identity of the Lovegood’s home. The odd structure is “home sweet home” to two of its original three occupants; Xenophilious Lovegood and his lovely daughter Luna. At the tender age of 9, Luna witnessed her mother’s death when an experiment, involving the powder of Erumpet Horn and extract of Dirigible Plum, went very wrong.

Approaching the broken down gate that barely guards the front walkway to the structure beyond, one cannot help but notice numerous small hand painted signs. Signs that warn not to not touch or walk upon the Dirigible plums and to be careful not to do this or that to the Snargaluff or Gurdyrood plants. The largest sign, which hangs over the front doorway, states rather than warns; “Home of Quibbler Xenophilius Lovegood Editor”

No sound comes from the house, as it is still very early in the morning and the occupants are more than likely fast asleep.

The sun shines high in the morning sky and nowhere is a cloud to be found to cover the Azure sky upon which the blazing orb now holds court.

A thread of light travels up to the third floor of the structure. It creeps around the side of the house and in through a shear curtain that hangs in front of an open window. The curtain itself is no defense against the rays of the sun as it moves ever so gently to and fro; a breeze causing it to billow into the room.

The sunbeam widens, casting a long stretch of golden light across the room, touching the wall opposite the window. As the band of light becomes wider still it reaches a lovely white painted four poster bed. A bed dressed with linens of the softest cotton and covered by a canopy of white lace that hangs above the bed and its occupant.

Light reflects off the golden hair and perfect skin of youth that lay asleep upon the bed, her head nestled upon piles of small satin pillows. The smile on the lovely young girls face is broad and open; her teeth, a brilliant white, glisten as if they are rows of perfect pearls plucked from the rarest of oysters nestled deep in the ocean.

Her breath is soft and gentle yet there is something so very unusual about her surroundings. At first glance one would not notice but upon closer inspection one would find that the walls of this lovely room are covered in soft green, almost iridescent, moths. Replete with large wings and long tails they are brilliant en mass. When viewed individually, one can see that they are but the delicate and innocent Luna Moth.

As sunlight continues to filter into the room there are the tiniest of movements. Upon the bed a flutter of an eyelash is followed by the long stretch of an outreaching arm. An audible yawn releases the air of the night and takes in the breeze of a new day.

After rising from her chamber and a quick stop at her commode, Luna trundled down the steep stairs that lead to her father’s work area.

In the corner a large printing press continues, magically, to move its rollers back and forth. Sheets of clean parchment are transformed into printed pages which are folded and stacked in a neat pile alongside the machine.

Upon the stack of folded papers lay the head of a man with silver-blonde hair. Barely a sound leaves him as he is clearly in a very deep sleep.

Careful not to wake him, Luna tip toed past, glancing at the machine as it continued on with its chores. As if aware of her presence, the printing press began to move just a little bit faster, the print suddenly appearing to become just a little bit darker.

Slowly, she made her way down yet another flight of stairs. This one is circular and leads to a wonderful light filled space comprised of a quaint kitchen, eating nook, and living room.

Walking over to the counter Luna retrieved a grey and black enamel coffee pot and made her way outside into the full light of the new day.

Standing outside in the fresh air and warmth of the new day’s sunlight, Luna stretched once more, working the warmth into the tiniest of her muscles.

“Good Morning to you!” Luna says with a very sing song tone to her voice.

There at her feet stood a garden gnome who had been unexpectedly spotted chewing upon the root of Xeno Lovegood’s prized Dirigible Plum. The plant was now some 5 meters high, growing up the front of the Lovegood home.

The Garden Gnome spit a large and ugly wad of chewed root out at Luna and then burrowed itself deep into the moist dirt below the Dirigible plant. Pretending not to notice, Luna just smiled and walked towards the well; just a few more feet away from where she had just stood.

“Oh how lovely, a bird has decided to make its nest here in our Well bucket.” Luna exclaimed!

Without any further ado she began to pump the old red painted metal handle and a sudden gush of cold water splashed upon the ground before her. She quickly put the pot under the pump spout, allowing it to fill as she worked the squeaking handle in an up and down motion. She continued until the water gushing from the spout overflowed the enameled pot.

Luna took the pot and walked back to the Lovegood house, stopping just for a moment to ask the now nearly hidden garden gnome if he had had enough to eat and if not, to say that he was more than welcome to come and share breakfast with her and her father.

She walked back into the kitchen and put the pot of water upon the stove and lit the fire beneath it. She dropped several large spoon full’s of a darkened powder into the pot and in no time the house was filled with the oddest aroma one could imagine. Not bitter, nor sweet, neither good nor bad, just odd.

Luna walked back outside into the fresh air of a morning that was now fully under way. Birds flew at break neck speed above her and bees buzzed in a lazy way as they lolled from one wild flower to the next.

Tiny white moths chased each other and intertwined themselves in what appeared to be fits of play. This caused Luna to smile just a little bit more as she made her way along the walk that led away from the Lovegood home. Arriving at the end she stopped to pick up a well-worn basket, full of holes and splinters that lay on its side.

She swung the basket merrily back and forth humming a tune that she had made up on the spot, a tune that had no beginning and no clear end. The tune meandered along just as Luna did, until she came to the giant sunflowers that helped to protect and hide the Lovegood home from the unsuspecting eyes of muggles; Muggles who might stumble out of Ottery St. Catchpole and happen upon Lovegood Hill as it was known to the Wizarding world.

Luna reached up and ever so gently snipped off the large heads of a few random Sunflowers. With them came the bounty of seeds that would make up part of the mornings breakfast. “Nature’s bounty at its finest “, she felt.

As her basket began to fill to capacity, she looked down and counted the heads that she had snipped. Looking back at the tall stalks and the remaining thousands of sunflowers before her, she bowed ever so slightly and thanked them for being so generous. With a dainty curtsy she turned on her heals and headed back towards her home through the waist deep expanse of wheat grass.


As Luna walked along the path that she had worn well from her many visits to the rows of sunflowers, she was suddenly and inexplicably stopped in her path. There before her was a creature that she believed, as did the entire wizarding world, to have been extinct since the time of Merlin himself; the Goliath Katydid in all its glory. It looked very much like a huge grasshopper but was the size of a small cat.

There it sat, playing its fiddle legs, producing the exact same random tune that Luna had been humming.

She reached forward to pet the creature but it moved back away from her a few steps. Luna placed her basket of Sunflower heads upon the ground and the now interested Goliath Katydid spotted the prize that lay inside the woven object.

It was clear that this creature so loved sunflowers that it could not resist walking ever so carefully up to the basket. There it stood high upon its long, thin legs and sniffed the contents.

Luna asked the grasshopper if it would like to come and join her and her father for breakfast as they would be serving the seeds of the sunflowers along with some fine plums grown in their very own gardens.

Looking at Luna as if it understood what she had just asked of it, the Katydid walked up to her and she ever so gently cupped her hands, allowing the creature to walk into her palms. She then transported it to her shoulder where it perched right next to her dangling radish earring.

Sniffing the radish to see if it was something of note to eat, the grasshopper decided it was not to its liking and subsequently ignored it. Instead, it settled its gaze on the young girl who was now bending down to retrieve her bounty of Sunflower Heads. Having done so, Luna headed back to the Lovegood House with her new acquaintance.

Upon approaching the house, Luna could see that her father had awakened. All of the leaded windows of the Lovegood home were now open allowing the morning breeze to replace the night’s stale air.

As he welcomed his daughter, Xenophilius suddenly became very much aware of the visitor that Luna had brought back with her.

Unable to contain himself, he ran up the flight of circular stairs. Soon, books could be heard being thrown across the room above Luna and their guest.

Laying the ever so large Goliath Katydid down at a small bowl at the nook table, Luna went about the task of preparing the mornings meal.

First, Luna lightly salted the sunflower seeds and then placed them in a bowl containing flakes of natural grains; grains that had been turned to paste and then baked until crisp.

Next, she retrieved three bowls and cups from a cupboard. Into the latter, Luna began to pour the now steaming hot brew that she had prepared prior to visiting the Sunflowers.

Luna walked back to the scrubbed wood table where she had been preparing their morning feast and continued to very carefully pluck the petals one by one from each of the now de seeded sunflower heads. She placed the petals in a stone bowl and then, with a pestle in hand, pressed them firmly until they began to turn to a paste. She poured an oily substance over the golden petal paste and proceeded to continue her mortar and pestle routine until a very thick golden liquid formed.

Luna laid the golden substance to the side and walked back to the nook, taking a seat in front of an open window.

Suddenly, Xeno rushed down the stairs, a book raised high above his head. Yelling “I have it, I have it”, nearly at the top of his voice, he ran towards Luna and their guest.

Noticing that the Grasshopper was now a bit frightened, Luna, ever the observant host, reached out and pet the creature, assuring it that everything was OK.

Xenophilius Lovegood threw himself into his chair, quickly grabbed his mug of brew and downed the contents as quickly as he could. He gasped for a moment and then went on to read aloud a passage that he had found regarding the “Extinct” Goliath Katydid.

He went on and on and on about how it had been wiped out, how one had not been seen in over a century and how their songs had once brought calm to the fields after a battle had been waged. “Kings had once sought them out to help bring an end to conflict in their lands, etc. All the while he was speaking; Xeno was oblivious to the fact that Luna and the Katydid had other things on their minds.

The flakes of crisped grain and lightly salted sunflower seeds were all Luna and the creature were concerned about at the moment. It was truly a feast to them and one that they were enjoying immensely as Xeno continued to drink mug after mug of steaming brew, all the while reciting passages from the book.

Trying not to be rude, Luna touched her father’s arm very lightly to get his attention. He stopped reading for a moment as she thanked him for all of the information that he was so generously sharing with them. She went on to explain, however, that she and the Katydid would be going up to her bedroom for a while.

Xenophilius went back to reading the text out loud, sometimes hitting the table with his open palm, causing hot brew to spill over the sides of his mug and run across the table top. He barely noticed the exit of the Goliath Katydid and his daughter.

Once again lifting the creature to her shoulder, Luna walked over to the scrubbed wood table and retrieved the bowl she had filled with the golden liquid.

Having done so, she ascended the two flights of stairs and placed the Goliath Katydid upon one of her many pillows. It was obvious that the creature had had its fill of sunflower seeds and was once again working its legs to create a soft piece of music which Luna found irresistible and which made her very happy.

Luna offered the Katydid to stay with her in her room as long as he wished. While the creature offered no obvious clue as to whether it understood or not, his music suddenly became more elaborate and melodic.

Luna hummed along with the tune that filled her room. The fresh air that blew in through the open window carried with it the perfume of the great expanse of wild flowers outside their home. Sunlight filled the room with warmth and touched Luna’s skin sending tingles of joy throughout her body.

Walking over to a table alongside the bed, Luna picked up a small, fine bristled paint brush that fit nicely in her hand. She then dragged her commode stand chair over to the side of the room with the shortest wall, where the ceiling was low and slanted.


Gazing at the wall, which was covered in portraits painted in amazing detail, Luna dipped the paint brush into the golden liquid she had created from the petals of the sunflowers. Standing upon the chair, she proceeded to paint a golden ribbon around each of the portraits. This ribbon formed a continuous golden chain, encircling one portrait after the next.

Luna hummed along as the Goliath Katydid played its lovely song. The breeze swirled effortlessly in the room and the sunlight shifted from one side of the room to the other as the day wore on.

Looking very pleased with her work, Luna finally stepped off the chair and gazed upon the artwork that covered the ceiling of her bedroom.

Looking closely at the golden ribbon Luna had painted one could see that it wasn’t just a ribbon at all. The word FRIENDS painted over and over, perhaps in the thousands or even the millions, created this wondrous illusion that linked all of the portraits together…….

[Duddahs]

Trick or……
By Duddahs the Great Barn Owl
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I find myself standing in the middle of a darkened cobbled stone street. In the distance the voices of laughter and child’s play fade away into the mist that surrounds me.

The dampness of the night air seems to be part of me now. My hands as sweaty and my brow drips profusely. The tailored black cape that I wear sticks to my body in a very uncomfortable manner, one I wish never to be forced to have to feel ever again.

No, not for as long as I live do I wish to relive this moment in time.

As I find my limbs moving of their own accord and the sound of the souls of my boots clicking on the hard stone surface, I am faced with my deepest desires and my greatest fears.

Still the echoing of my footfall continues as I approach the wooden gate. I can clearly see my hand reaching out and pushing it out of my way but how? I have no recollection of deliberately moving my hand or the gate for that matter. How is this to be?

My footsteps are not any more muted as I walk up the brick walkway. It leads to a door on the side of a house. Not just any house mind you.

My arm stretches away from my body and the cold clammy feeling in the palm of my hand is met by the damp and equally cold touch of the metal door knob. It turns as I watch my wrist change in angle to assist the motion of the knob and with an ever so careful push; the door is now open before me.

My heart begins to race faster and faster. I can hear the blood rushing to my head from my now enlarged heart. The constant pumping of the blood only creates an equal rhythm of thumping in my head. I feel my extremities grow ever so cold, almost dead.

My feet carry me into the entrance way where I am greeted by something that I wish not to accept. It is not there I tell myself and as I step over it, I am somehow comforted ever so slightly. I shudder at the very thought of the warmth that this brings to the tips of my fingers and I push the image out of my mind and continue to move toward as narrow flight of stairs.

Once again, I see my arms reaching out to grab the rails and I proceed cautiously, with the greatest of stealth that I could muster.

At the top of the stairs I turn on the landing and see a doorway which is slightly ajar. I proceed towards the door and witness myself curling my long shaking fingers around the side of the wood door and moving it into the room it protects.

My hearts is beating again with the pace of horses trussed to carriages. My blood is now rushing from my heart and directly to my brain. My emotions are running higher than they ever have before. My eyes wide open, blackened pupils, fear rising from deep inside. Bile rising in my throat and scalding as it reaches ever further from the depths of my soul.

I see yet another door across the poorly lit room. It is my breath that I try to control more than anything. I must continue to remind myself to breath as I find I am becoming light headed and may bring faint upon myself.

I now feel that I must force my limbs to respond to their commands. They are heavy and it feels as if I am walking in quicksand. Nowhere to go but down, I continue to struggle mightily until I am at the entrance I seek.

With a heavy mixture of desperation and anticipation, I open the door and stand to assess what has now filled my eyes.

My mind does not take it in at first and I feel an almost numbness crawling its way through my insides.

Then the reality of what I am witness to sinks in just a little too deeply and I throw myself upon her.

I am suddenly cradling my true love, my deepest desire.

Tears suddenly from the insides of my eyes and stain my face and soak my collar in the torrents that seem to come in wave after wave.

I can no longer hear for I have gone deaf. My voice no longer has sound, my life no longer meaning.

As I bring her lifeless beauty to my lips, I cry out her name but hear nothing. I can no longer see for the tears that fill my eyes have also robbed me of the beauty before me.

I can no longer feel my hands though I know that I hold her and press her to my chest. She has always belonged there but the feeling is no longer one of pleasure but pure pain.

I have lost all sense of time and place. My world has crumbled and I only wish to disappear. I can’t go on living for my heart surely has been ripped from the depths of my breast and torn asunder.

As my head snaps back and I begin to drown in my own tears, I find my mind being slapped back to where I truly am.

I hear a baby cry.

[Duddahs]

Title: Two for One
Prompt: A Meeting Under the Stars
Written by; Duddahs the Great Barn Owl

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Chapter One



As Albus Dumbledore stepped out of the Hogs Head Inn, his dark purple, star covered robes shown brilliantly in the early summer sunlight.

He raised his head up towards the cloudless azure skies above Hogsmeade as a look of deep concern began to twist his face. A small twitch beneath his beard gave away the nervous energy that he could barely contain; it was as if someone had captured a lightning bolt and buried it deeply within his core.

How could this be? How could an apparent fraud have come to him with something of such momentous importance? Why now, just as things were beginning to appear so bleak? What did it all mean? Over and over again, his mind replayed the words he had just heard:

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

The words of Sybil Trelawney kept rolling over and over every other thing that attempted to penetrate Dumbledore’s consciousness.

Was it possible that this woebegone mess of a fraud might truly have given to him one of the most important prophecies of all Wizarding time?

The idea that this might be possible made Dumbledore’s head hurt. The fact remained, however, that her Great-great-grandmother was Cassandra Trelawney; a woman recognized as having been the greatest seer of her time. The very thought that the creature, who had stood before him in the Hogs Head Inn, might possess any of her ancestors abilities was so far-fetched as to be almost laughable.

As he headed back towards Hogwarts Castle, Dumbledore slowed his walk to ponder the matter further. The longer he walked on the path between Hogsmeade and Hogwarts the greater the sense of urgency built within him. He knew he must summon this woman to the castle; not only to guard against anyone else from hearing the prophecy but also to protect its bearer. If this information were to fall into the wrong hands a most unfortunate turn of events would most certainly take place.


Following a subsequent interview with Ms.Trelawney, Albus Dumbledore hired her in spite of the widespread belief she was more fraud than seer. In the ensuing month Dumbledore steadfastly kept his reasons for this to himself. He offered no explanation when the other professors approached him to voice their concern about “Professor” Trelawney’s qualifications. It was clear that they considered her credentials suspect at best. .

This was the time of year when Hogwarts was nearly deserted as only a handful of the Professors and staff lived there year round. The Headmaster was among the small group that stayed on as was the newly appointed Divination Professor, who sat at a small table in the Teachers’ Lounge.

Across the grounds the windows of Hagrid’s hut blazed with the light cast from the stone fireplace within. An enormous pot of tea sat upon a splintered wood table, the tea inside growing cold. The massive, hairy figure of Hagrid paced back and forth across squeaking floor boards as nervous anticipation enveloped his heart.



Chapter 2



Many kilometers away, a scream of pain could be heard echoing through the otherwise quiet corridors of St. Mungo’s. Silence, then another scream, this one louder and higher pitched.

A door swung wide open as a disheveled dark haired man rushed out into the corridor.

“It’s a boy, it’s a boy! I am a daddy, do you hear me? I am a daddy!” the young man yelled at the top of his lungs.

An elderly woman stood up from the high backed overstuffed chair in which she had been soundly sleeping until this rude interruption…

“Oh yes, congratulations my dear; a boy? I am very happy for you both.” The old lady stated as she once again sank back into the chair from which she had momentarily risen.

In the next room a lovely red haired woman lay beneath the crisp white linen sheets of her white painted hospital bed. Her husband grasped her hand ever so tightly as he rose and leaned over her to give her the most delicate kiss upon her forehead.

“Go, give Alice and Frank our congratulations will you please James?” asked the weak but smiling red haired patient.

“Lily, you do know that I love you more than anything. More than life itself, no matter what, don’t you?”

Lily Potter smiled broadly and buried her cheek deeply into the thick feather pillow upon which her head rested.

James squeezed his wife’s hand once more and stared into her emerald green eyes. He was assured by the unspoken communication that passed between them; all was understood and all was fine.

At Lily’s urging he reluctantly let go of her hand and walked to the door that lead to the corridor.

“Just a moment, I will only be a moment Lily. If you need anything, I really mean it; anything, you just let me know and I will be here by your side.” James assured his wife.

“Go, you silly thing you. I have my wand here on the night stand. I am having a baby not losing my mind. Now go and let me know what his name is. Don’t forget to ask; you know how you forget things when you get excited.”

James winked at Lily, turned on his heal, and left the room. In the corridor he approached the old woman who wore a large feather and bird adorned hat. She snored loudly and seemed to be sound asleep. James decided not to disturb her; the look upon her weathered face made it appear she could be a handful if awakened without warning.

Instead, he knocked on door of the room next to Lily’s. A shadow appeared on the other side of the frosted glass and the door opened, giving way to a softly lit room.

There on the bed, a mirror image of the one upon which his wife was now resting, lay his dear friend Alice Longbottom.

Alice appeared to be an absolute mess. Her hair was sticking out in all directions, there were darkened circles under her eyes and the low light cast by the wall sconces made her look far older than her actual years. Although the Longbottoms and Potters were just a few years apart, at this moment one would have guessed they were separated by decades.

A weak smile broke out on Alice’s face. She moved one of her hands to reveal the dark haired head of the Longbtottom’s new born baby boy.

“Handsome, the most handsome baby ever” gushed Frank Longbottom. “Don’t you agree James?” asked the proud new father.

“Brilliant, simply brilliant; the two of you must be so proud and Alice, you are lovelier than you have ever been and that is saying something!”

At this Frank turned to James and stated, “Oh how rude and foolish of me. How is Lily doing? Can she come and see the baby or should we bring him to her?”

James thought for a moment and explained that Lily was not well. Though she was as strong as she had ever been the baby was extremely active for some reason. The healers explained that she should stay bed ridden until after the birth, just to be on the safe side. It was now only a matter of hours before the baby was expected to come.

Frank assured James that he understood and proposed that they get together the following evening. “Then we can all have a bit of a welcoming party for the newborns”.

James agreed and walked over to Alice’s bedside. He laid his hand upon hers and bent down to kiss the baby upon his very rosy cheek. After straightening up, James stuck his hand out, took Franks hand and gave it a mighty shake.

“Great Job ole boy, Great job indeed.”

At that James excused himself, closing the door as he exited the room.

In the corridor he found himself once again in front of the Old Woman. She was still asleep, presenting just as formidable a figure as ever. James leaned over, taking care not to hit her hat with his brow. He gave the old girl a quick peck on the cheek, stood up carefully, and made his way back to the room where his wife lay resting.

As he did so James noticed a small smile cross the old lady’s face. Pausing momentarily , he whispered “Fraud”.


“Hah,” the old lady muttered just as softly and went back to pretending to be asleep.

As James stood outside the door to his wife’s room, the acid boiling in his stomach rose up once again into his throat. A feeling of anticipation laced with fear took hold of him like a death grip.

He grasped the doorknob, gave it a gentle turn to the right, and ever so slowly pushed the door to the room open.

There, Lily’s head rested upon the linen covered pillow; her red tresses fanned out in silky pleats upon the pillow’s surface. The contrast between the starched white linen and the flame red hair made Lily’s beautiful face literally glow.

Gradually, the soon-to-be mother opened her emerald green eyes. Spying her husband, Lily smiled and absent mindedly licked her lips causing them to take on the bright red hue of summer ripened cherries.

“Is he perfect? Is the baby just perfect James? All ten and ten? And his name, what is his name?”

James gave his wife a puzzled look and asked “Ten of Ten? What does that mean?” He hoped this query would distract her, enabling him to just ignore her second question.

“How could I have forgotten to ask the baby’s name?” He wondered with exasperation!

“He is fine Lily, they are all fine and you will find out the baby’s name tomorrow evening once our own little one has decided to come out and play with us. We will have a truly special birthday party, the six, no seven of us.” James joyfully informed his wife.

Lily closed her eyes and snuggled her cheek back into the pillow as James walked around the room, lowering the candle light from the sconces.

“Good, I am so glad that everyone is fine. “ Lily murmured.

In the pause that followed James patted himself on the back; self congratulations for being so clever.

“Forgot to ask his name though huh?”

Turning, James walked over to his wife. He placed his hand gently on the back of her head and leaned down to give her a deep and most loving kiss. She knew him all too well and he loved her all the more for it. His life with Lily was so much more than he could have ever dreamed of and now, here she was, about to give birth to their first child!

A few hours later in the silent and dimly lit corridor of St. Mungo’s, a woman’s scream echoed once again, followed by silence. Another scream, higher pitched than the previous one. Soon, another door flew open, slamming against the stone walls of the corridor.

At the far end of the corridor a large leaded glass window allowed the unusually bright light of the Moon and Stars to cast a ghostly shadow upon the cut granite stone floor. A large Owl flew through the open transom at the center of the window and out into the well-lit summer sky. In spite of the unusually bright light the owl eventually disappeared from view as it started to make headway on its long solitary journey………………..


Chapter 3



In the Forbidden Forest, restlessness slowly crept into the souls of its inhabitants. The moans and groans of the now darkened forest and its inhabitants were almost palpable. A steady cadence of voices, calls, screams and moans came together in one bone chilling song of the night.

A large herd of Centaur trampled the well-worn paths of the forest; bows held at the ready, quivers filled to capacity. The thunderous and vibrating beating of hooves upon hardened earth reverberated throughout the darkness that now cloaked all that made this place their home. Birds flew out of tree tops as the dark outlines of larger flying creatures took shape far off in the distance.



On mass, the herd came to a sudden halt. Dust kicked up by their hooves rose from the ground, partially obscuring their lower halves from view.

A fantastic beast separated himself from the pack. He walked slowly to a small clearing in the canopy of trees. The light of the new moon shone upon him as he raised his head to gaze to the heavens above.

“Magorian, what is it that you read in the sky tonight?” asked a deep Red Haired Centaur.

“Bane, it is apparent to all Centaurs to, clear for all Centaurs to see. Many generations have prepared us for this night; a night when stars, planets and moons have come to us with their tale of the future.” Magorian shook his mane and swished his tail back and forth in a display of nervous energy.

Slowly the rest of the herd walked into the moonlit clearing; each in turn raised their heads towards the sky. All were silent until a stunningly handsome Silver White haired and maned Centaur made his way to Magorian. Directly opposite, Bane swished his tail in an agitated state, causing his mane to shudder.

“Yes Firenze, I believe you understand and see what I see.” Magorian nudged Firenze just a bit under his chin causing him to look even a little further above where he had originally cast his gaze.

At this Bane took offense and stomped one of his hooves forcefully upon the dirt floor of the clearing.

“Yes, Bane, you too must be aware of what the heavens tell us, of the future, of the imminent WAR!”

“Mars has moved into a prolonged pattern. It will take nearly a decade for us to know, with Gemini retreating, Cancer in control and the most brilliant Leo with Mars Major aligning for the first time in many phases.”

Magorian turned slowly back towards Firenze, unable to read the now implacable look that had fixed itself upon the White steads face…..

[Duddahs]

Title: Do Unto Others As
Prompt: The Ghosts of Hogwarts
Written by; Duddahs the Great Barn Owl

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Clad in a long soft cotton night gown; covered in small images of teddy bears and ducks, the young Witch shuffled her bare feet upon the cold black and white tiled floor of her Devonshire flat. Twisting and contorting her form she stretched her arms high above her head and let out a silent yawn.

The white subway tiles that covered the walls of her water closet reflected the dim light that snuck in through a small window on the far end wall. Also surrounded by white tile, a glistening - white porcelain bath tub rested under the window.

Leaning forward she wrapped the fingers of her right hand around an X shaped chrome handle that protruded from the tile wall.

A twist produced a small squeak, the result of old metal rubbing against metal. The small rubber bushing that would have prevented the noise had long since worn away by years of use. Soon the rushing sound of water forced the silence of the room into retreat.

As steam rose from the bottom of the tub, the witch removed her hand and placed it on yet another X shaped handle. With another small twist and the familiar squeak, more water rushed from a spigot that jutted out of the tile wall.

Promptly drawing a white lace and plastic lined curtain, enclosed the steam that now rose from the depths of the glistening white tub. Slowly the rest of the small room filled with foggy moisture.

A quick peak into a black framed wall mirror assured Olive that she was in much need of the soothing shower that would start her day. The steam now escaped the confines of the tub area and lightly clung to a mirror that reflected her bloodshot eyes and disheveled hair.

She grabbed the bottom hem of her night gown with both hands and pulled it straight up and over her head. Olives’ long blond locks caught momentarily on a button, pulling just a bit too roughly for her taste.

“OW!” she exclaimed in a strangulated voice.

“Ger OFF!” she croaked as she continued to tug on the nightgown until several strands of her hair were rudely ripped from the top of her head.

Nightgown “ONE”, Olive Hornby “Zero” she chided herself.

Regaining her composure, Olive stood before her own reflection. She placed her hands upon the chrome faucet handles that adorned the pedestal sink and stood silently for a moment to contemplate the prior evening.

Yet again the night had been terrible for Olive. No matter what she did she could not get the sounds that bombarded her out of her mind; sounds that kept her from much needed sleep and resulted in an upset stomach.

It had been months now since Olive moved from her parents’ home; a place that was always serene and soothing. Olive was the only daughter of Brice and Abigail Hornby of Devonshire, who, Olive felt had provided a “protective cocoon “for her to grow up in.

Olive was very pretty and encouraged as a child. She was doted upon by her parents and grandparents on both sides of her family. The young witch was considered to be the most beautiful if not the smartest child that many a witch or wizard had ever met.

It was not uncommon for Olive and her mother to be stopped on the street by strangers just so they could look into the huge limpid blue eyes of the child and to admire the golden locks that flowed so effortlessly from the top of her head and gently cradled upon her shoulders.

Visually she was nearly perfect to the naked eye. There was, however, an underlying sense of superiority that was not readily apparent to the casual acquaintance. This fact was somewhat hidden by the child, even as far back as when she was a toddler. Once people got to know her, they came to realize that she was something of a spoiled brat.

Drawn back to the present, Olive realized that the situation in the bathroom had gone from ugly to uglier.

Her bloodshot blue eyes were no more than wrinkled slits; her pallor ashen. She could not believe that she was seeing something so visually unattractive so early in the morning. She did not recognize her own reflection. The face that looked back at her could not be the same self-confident and oft complimented young witch she had grown to know and love. This was not her reflection; it just could not be!

Olive reached up to place the tips of her index finger and thumb upon a small cut crystal nob. She could feel the warmth of the steam that had now begun to fill the glossy white room in which she stood.

A feeling of warmth that began in her back turned to a quick shiver that shot up her spine, made her shudder momentarily and then caused her body to relax.

“Ah”, she exhaled.

Her fingers now tugged on the crystal nob, opening the door to a medicine cabinet that hung on the wall to her right.

The door opened to reveal a semitransparent, hideous pimple covered face; “BOO!” it screamed out at Olive.

“WAH THE, YOU AGAIN?” yelped Olive as she staggered backward into the cold tiled wall behind her.

The sudden jab of a door knob dug into her back causing her to wince severely. At the same time cold tiles came in contact with her bare flesh making chills run rampant through her already shocked body.

“HaHaHaHaHa” Loud obnoxious laughter now filled the once soothing bathroom. It echoed off the walls and floor as water continued to gush out of the shower head .The continuous flow of hot water caused steam to fill the room, accompanied by a steady hissing sound.

The face that leered out at Olive Hornby from the medicine cabinet was all too familiar to her. It was that terrible face, a face from her not so distant past that haunted her night and day. It was that face, accompanied by horrible screeching laughter that kept her awake night after night.

“Sick, you sick creature! How many times do I have to say I am sorry before you get it through your dead head and just leave me alone? I am so very sorry, now go! Go forever and never haunt me again!” Olive yelled at the laughing face.

In spite of yet another attempt at an apology it was obvious to Olive that her plea had again fallen on deaf ears.

Olive’s life was spiraling out of control; she no longer slept peacefully. Nor could she derive comfort or solace from her job as a stenographer at the Ministry of Magic where she worked for the Wizengamot.

This hideous creature followed her, no stalked her 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year.

There was no use in trying to ignore the shrieks and squeals of laughter, the constant moaning and creaking of floorboards. This monster was apparently going to follow Olive and it was getting to her. She was a mess, a shell of her former self. The face in the medicine cabinet seemed to take great pleasure in the knowledge that this was happing.

Olive tried to pull herself together as she reached forward and slammed the medicine cabinet door shut. The mirror on the outside of the cabinet shattered in the process and the black frame splintered into pieces.

The loud cackling coming from the horrible face in the cabinet fell into the porcelain pedestal sink. With an echo to it seemed to fade away as it disappeared down the drain pipe.

Quickly moving to the shower, Olive drew the curtain back with a sweeping motion, bringing the rushing water into view.

She looked up and down inside the partially enclosed tub area but saw nothing other than steam and hot water swirling before her.

Slightly mollified, Olive laid a towel upon the floor and tucked it along the edge of the tub and the floor. Next she stepped slowly forward into the rush of water.

It was soothingly warm and oh so gentle. Her muscles screamed for relaxation, for release of their constant state of tension.

“AH, OOOOH, that is lovely, oh how I need this” she whispered to herself as she placed her head completely beneath the soothing cascade. Each individual stream seemed to pulsate upon the top of her head; massaging her tensions and worries away. She began to relax and allow the water to bring life back into the wreck of a person she had recently become.

Olive luxuriated in a long period of lathering her hair; an extended period where she just allowed the water to flow over her. Like time worn stone under a great waterfall, the water smoothed away the night of haunting that had so recently plagued her.

So much time passed with Olive cocooned in the steaming water blanket in that she barely noticed the water turning markedly cooler. It became that she had overstayed her time in the shower; the small water heater that hung from the ceiling worked overtime in a failing attempt to heat the water that rushed from the cold water pipes.

Once again, Olive drew back the shower curtain, having nearly forgotten about the terrifying haunting.

As she carefully stepped out onto the soft cotton floor towel, she grabbed a plush wrap that hung just outside the shower enclosure. Carefully pulling the terry cloth tightly around her waist, she reached for yet another towel to wrap around her head. Next, she ruffled her hair inside the towel, squeezing out as much water from her locks as she could.

Satisfied that she was more or less dry, Olive tossed the towels back upon the shiny chrome hook, went back to her bedroom, and dressed in her finely pressed work suit.

Standing before a full length mirror, Olive gazed with relief at a reflection that now looked so much more like the Olive Hornby she knew and loved. The crisply pleated, matching worsted - wool slacks and jacket presented, in her mind, the epitome of self-confidence and success.

After a short period applying makeup and brushing her nearly air dried hair, Olive inserted her dainty feet into a beautiful if just a little too high heeled pair of shoes. This, she felt, finished the perfect image she had of herself. Before walking out of the bedroom, Olive cast one last approving glance at her reflection in the mirror.

The clacking noise produced by her elegant shoes as she crossed the hardwood floors reminded Olive of how good she now looked. She was sure that once she had gotten to work a great deal of attention would be paid to her and that she would be noticed by just the right people. Perhaps today would be the day she would get advancement in pay and position she felt she so richly deserved. After all, Olive had been working now for several months already and had garnered much attention from some of the most important Wizards at the Ministry of Magic.

Walking into the kitchen Olive was confronted by a wall clock which repeatedly screamed “you’re late, you’re late, get out now, you’re late!”

Olive grabbed a handful of crystalized grey powder from a red clay pot that hug from the fireplace mantle and threw the powder into the hearth. Suddenly, a blaze of brilliant green flames shot far up the chimney. Without hesitating, the lovely witch stepped right into the flames; not a worry or care in the world and she was gone.

Moments later at the Ministry of Magic, Olive stepped out of an imposingly large black tiled fireplace accompanied by dozens of other late employees. Many of these Witches and Wizards walked with quickened steps, muttering the phrases “Oh MERLIN” and “For Merlin’s Sake “as they rushed to their respective work areas.

The clinking of the metal gates of the Ministry transports could be heard echoing throughout the vast great halls of the Ministry entry. The high vaulted ceilings reverberated with the sounds of the footsteps, clattering, and chatter produced by the hustle and bustle below.

Walking calmly toward the open gate before her, Olive felt the gaze of many sets of eyes, assessing how wonderful she looked. A bit of smugness crept across her face as Olive’s broad, red lipsticked smile spread. She focused her large blue eyes directly ahead, not wishing to give away for a second that she might be concerned at who was actually looking at her. She felt that to be taken seriously, she must always present this slightly aloof guise of perfection.

Maintaining her regal composure, Olive glided across the hard polished granite floors and into an elevator, its metal gates clanking loudly upon closure. A few small pink and blue paper airplanes barely made their way into the transport before the bottom gave out, abruptly plunging its cargo into the bowels of the Ministry structure.

The transports golden gates retracted the moment it stopped. Most of the occupants’ scurried out, each in a hurry to get to their respective destinations. Olive exited last, giving the elevator worker just the hint of a smile. As she did so, the tall transport operator turned a deep shade of crimson, adjusted his tightening collar, and swallowed very hard.

Almost immediately the golden gates rattled closed and the transport disappeared, with a whoosh, into a hole in the black tiled wall.

As she proceeded to the number one chamber of the Wizengamot, the click, click, click of Olive’s high heeled shoes echoed along the corridor. It was a constant and even cadence; not worried or rushed. No sense of urgency could be detected from the sound that they made.

Seeing the stone lined walls of the lower section of the Wizengamot, one instantly realized that this was a far older section of the structure than was the great hall above. The temperature here was cooler and the air a bit mustier and less flowing.

As Olive approached a small corner in the hallway, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Just as she rounded the corner, however, the young witch was confronted by what looked to be a body hanging from a transparent rope. The rope appeared to be tied to a swinging metal light fixture high above the lifeless form of “MYRTLE!”

“AAAAAHHHHHKKKKKKKK!” Olive screamed loudly.

Her composure now gone she dissolved into a sobbing mess, nerves unraveling in an instant and looked to be on the verge of a complete breakdown.

Olive’s eyes opened so wide that they looked like two white saucers with tiny dots in the center! Her mouth remained open but she was suddenly mute; a silent scream stuck in her throat as her breathing all but nearly stopped.

This was it; Olive had reached her breaking point. No matter how much of a façade of confidence and perfection she attempted to portray to everyone else around her, Olive knew that this was it. Her insides were now as shattered as her medicine cabinet mirror.

She felt as if her body was a porcelain vessel and that everything that made up Olive on the inside had just broken into a million tiny razor sharp shards that were now falling into her high heeled shoes. Her stomach dropped but still no sound emitted from her gaping lips.

The sight before her was so awful, so devastating that she just could not seem to force herself to turn away from the horrific vision.

Slowly the body began to swing back and forth, then more violently as deep moaning began to fill the corridor.

Tears flooded Olive’s now bloodshot eyes and her makeup began running in streaks down her face. The blackened liquefied mascara flowed onto the blush on her cheeks, mixed with face powder, and pooled into the corners of her open mouth. Combining with her lipstick the clownish goo created what appeared to be an animated gash in her face as it dripped off her chin.

At her feet a colorful blotch formed; the mixture of cosmetic products and Olives own tears.

Finally a scream of utter terror escaped her. It was as if the sound had been ripped from her and then amplified by the use of the Sonorus Charm.

Abruptly, a door at the far end of the hallway swung open. A short young Wizard emerged and ran out towards the disturbance.

To his utter horror he found himself looking up at the Ghostly, semitransparent form of a young girl swinging high above by her neck. Quickly his gaze dropped to the shuddering, quacking, and screaming young lady before him. She was obviously of flesh and blood in stark contrast to the figure suspended above them.

He quickly dragged the young Witch to the safety of an office room not far down the hallway.

Out in the corridor the childish moaning of the ghostly figure of Myrtle quickly turned to childish laughter. Moving her head in a circular pattern, the noose appeared to disappear and she floated down towards the closed office door, still giggling like a child with a very big secret.

Inside the office sanctuary, sobs of despair continued to flow out of Olive Hornby while the Wizard attempted to console and comfort her as best he could. Reaching into his jacket pocket he removed a monogrammed silk handkerchief and handed it to Olive which she promptly took and blew her nose.

As she folded the silken hankie Olive noticed the elaborate gold monogram; a bold “C” over an ornate “F”.

Continuing to shake as tears burned and blurred her eyes, she tried to slow her breathing which now came in short gasps.

“There, there my dear, it will be fine. I am sure everything is going to be just fine”, soothed the Wizard.

“Fudge, Cornelius Fudge at your service… And you, I have noticed you recently at the Wizengamot; Hornby isn’t it?”

Olive wiped her eyes with a clean side of the handkerchief and attempted to quell her gasps for air.

She nodded her head up and down, not yet having regained her speaking voice.

“Yes, a haunting I see? There are laws against that kind of thing you know. Well, that and the fact that I am the second assistant to the prosecutor of the Wizengamot himself. I am sure that there is something that I, I mean we can do to assist you with this dilemma.” A smile crept across the little wizards’ young face as he tilted his head to one side in order to get a better look at the witch’s expression.

Olive smiled a small smile. Her breathing had begun its difficult journey back to normal. Unfortunately she was still shattered inside. Still trembling she clung to the handkerchief that was still clutched in her hand.

Her gaze now fixed upon the serious but comforting visage of Cornelius Fudge. The pleading look in her eyes implored Fudge to help in any way possible.

“Yes, yes, I see. There are banishment charms, exorcisms, and all sorts of legalities that can be enforced upon an unruly and unwarranted haunting. Yes, let me find it… Ah yes, here it is.” The young Wizard reached up and took a heavy volume down off a large bookshelf that was filled with dozens of hard bound text.

Olive did not speak. She did not dare correct the young wizard in his assumption that this was an unwarranted haunting. After all, Olive knew full well that had it not been for her actions just a few short years earlier, none of this would be happening now. The ghostly figure that haunted her day and night; forever frozen in time as a young girl, would still be alive……………..

[Duddahs]

Title: Finding the Four
Prompt: Hogwarts a History
Written by; Duddahs the Great Barn Owl and Bathilda Bagshot

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Salazar Slytherin was a very precocious youngster who had grown up in an extremely well to do family. At a very young age he began to exhibit strange and often bizarre abilities. Others in his town, which was located just outside of London, were often responsible for him being punished by his parents. He was too often the subject of terrible ridicule, aimed at him by his peers.

To the dismay of many of his family members and acquaintances, Salazar actively sought out others, in the area in which he lived, who were rumored to have abilities similar to those he had demonstrated. Salazar was repeatedly disappointed, however, when none of the characters, who were purported to possess magical abilities, were even remotely as talented as he.

All too often the young Slytherin would find himself being challenged to duels and magical feats of daring by those he had sought to collaborate with. There never came a time when Salazar was in fear of or even close to defeat. It became obvious to him that his powers were greatly superior to all comers and pretenders.

Salazar felt deep within his heart the need to prove himself. This need was driven by the fact that many years of his youth had been spent defending himself and his family against those who were unlike and ultimately unkind to him. The need buried deep within young Salazar Slytherin burned like the bonfires of the Winter Solstice celebrations at Stonehenge.

On one dreary day, the fire in Salazar’s heart burned stronger than it had ever done before. He had heard of a woman on the eastern coast of the Isle who was rumored to be not only an exceptionally beloved character but one who was said to possess many of the same abilities that Salazar held dear to be his own.

The boredom and dampness of the constant dreary weather brought young Salazar Slytherin to a monumental decision; it was a decision that would ultimately change the course of his life and the wizarding world forever.

He felt he must seek out this woman and see for himself if the rumors were true; see if she was his equal or even greater. Salazar felt that, if this proved to be the case, he must keep this woman close enough to learn any secret powers that he did not possess. His desire was that no one in the land be more powerful than he.

His mind set, Salazar bid his family a heartfelt farewell and set off for the eastern coast, not sure of where he was actually going but thrilled with the anticipation of the journey ahead of him.

As Salazar traveled from town to town in search of the woman, the rumors became stronger and stronger and leads to her whereabouts became more detailed by the day.

During his travels, young Salazar heard the whisperings of nocturnal creatures. He seemed to understand the Voices that whispered to him, but they were obviously not of human origin.

Soft hissing voices came to him early each evening. These voices often lead him to safe havens and clearings that were fertile hunting grounds. It was not until Salazar tripped and stumbled into a small den of snakes, in a wooded area, that the whispers turned to shouts. Reeling with surprise and alarm, he fought to right himself and deal with this unsettling turn of events.

He yelled out in fear of the snakes that approached him en mass. To his surprise, the snakes stopped advancing and one raised itself high above the others. It began speaking in a tongue that Salazar recognized as the whispering that had been guiding him.

Sudden realization struck him like a mighty blow to his head. He could speak with and understand these creatures. How could this be, he wondered? Is this yet another power that I have and must seek in others?

The snake that had raised high into the air spoke to Slytherin in a smooth hissing voice. It explained that Salazar had destroyed her home and killed many of her young. Her initial plan was to attack and destroy him. Now, after the revelation that he too could speak with her, she chose not to follow through with his demise. Loud hissing from her remaining young drowned out her words momentarily as a shocked Salazar looked on in dismay.

After some discussion between the young Slytherin and the mother snake, trust began to form. The snake told the young man the whereabouts of the woman he had been seeking. Whispers had carried upon the winds from nest to nest that one would come in search of knowledge; one that possessed the ability to speak with snakes; one who might ultimately change the direction of the world itself?

Armed with the information provided by the snake, Salazar set out early the next morning. Once again a fire burned hot in his belly, his determination reinvigorated.

As Salazar walked into a small eastern village that the snake had directed him to, he was greeted by a large group of children. They were running through the streets carrying streamers of colored fabric from which colorful sparkles flew.

At once Slytherin knew for sure that this was the place of the one he sought. The children played without fear of the stranger even though they were armed only with their magical toy streamers. The shooting, sparkling tails of these streamers reminded him of the many twinkling stars in the night’s sky. Such creations could only have been made by one bestowed with powers akin to his own.

Salazar’s heartbeat quickened as he approached one of the rollicking children.

“Where did you get such a wonderful toy as the one you possess?” Salazar excitedly questioned the child.

“Mistress Hufflepuff, of course.” The child answered. “Over there, in the small thatched house, the one surrounded by many flowers. That is where you will find her. If you ask nicely, I am sure she will make one for you and then you may join us in our game.”

“Thank you and please do save a place in line for me, won’t you?” Salazar said through a broad smile.

Off the child ran to catch up with his friends, looking back momentarily to give Slytherin a wave of his sparkling banner. With that, the youngster turned away and was quickly out of sight.

Again Salazar’s heartbeat began to quicken as he approached the roughhewn wood door. A firm knock was promptly followed by a warm and welcoming, “Come in, come in, all are welcome in my humble abode.”

As he entered he saw a rather disheveled, roundish young woman; a fire burned brightly in the hearth before her. As she removed a loaf of freshly baked bread, the aroma filled the small one room house, causing Salazar’s stomach to ache with hunger.

“Oh, please excuse my bad manners, please come, take a seat and partake in the bread and cheese with me. The dairy man has been so kind as to have brought me fresh cheese just this morning from his goats. Here, please take this plate and help yourself.”

The words were so warm and inviting that Salazar was instantly put greatly at ease. He felt that he somehow knew this woman though they had never met before. She had made his worries and fears fall by the wayside; the details of his passionate quest quickly burst forth, like a floodgate, from his lips.

After a remarkably short time, the two established a strong connection. Salazar told of his conquests and his travels to find those with the powers akin to his own. Helga, as she was named, spoke freely of how the town folk felt she was some sort of benevolent teacher. The children came to her when they were not assisting their families in the fields or hunting for food. She taught them to read and to write as well as how to recognize the types of birds and insects and other wild creatures; creatures that flocked to her home to spend time in her company.

The discussion came to a point where they reached an agreement and meeting of the minds. There should be a place where children with abilities akin to their own could come together; children who were at the moment scattered across the countryside. It should be a place of learning where their abilities could be harnessed and refined.

Helga was so enthralled with the idea of teaching such children that she shared with Salazar the rumor of a wealthy woman from the north in the land of the Scots. She was said to possess unbelievable powers as well as lands that stretched from one side of the Isle to the other.

Following a very comfortable night of rest on a fluffy quilt covered bed of straw, Salazar and Helga Hufflepuff set off on foot to find the rumored whereabouts’ of the mysterious woman in the land of the Scots.

A tear drifted down Helga’s rounded cheek as she waved a goodbye to the children and neighbors of her beloved village. She knew deep in her soul that she would never return but didn’t put those thoughts to words.

Over the paths and across the vast fields of the English Isle the two walked on. Each night they set up camp around a small fire. Food caught and collected by Salazar was cooked to delicious perfection by the talented Helga. They stayed up till nearly dawn each night sharing stories and tales of the abilities that each had learned they possessed.

Even so, Salazar kept many secrets to himself. He never fully shared with Helga all of his abilities. The fact that he could talk to and understand snakes was something he kept very close to his heart. Nor did he ever divulge some of his greatest achievements.

After many months into their quest, the duo finally arrived at the place where it was rumored the rich and powerful woman lived.

The rumors appeared to be true as they approached the quiet little town. The streets seemed to be paved with golden bricks and the street lamps burned bright without the assistance of wax candles or oil.

Helga approached a kindly looking old woman who was offering small bags of seed for very little money. Helga reached deep into her shabby overcoat and handed the old woman two small silver coins.

The old woman’s eyes lit up as if emeralds from the crown jewels of a mighty queen had been placed on her head. She handed over the small bag of seed and bent low to kiss Helga’s hand.

Helga’s cheeks turned a bright crimson as she took hold of the old woman and gave her a big bear hug, kissing her gently upon the top of her head.

“Do you know of a wealthy woman who possesses great powers?” Helga asked the old woman.

The Old woman pointed with her crooked finger to a structure that was silhouetted against the evening sky. “Ah, yes, indeed, you must be speaking of Lady Ravenclaw. She lives in the castle fortress upon that very hill.”
“Thank you, thank you very much and may your life be happy and blessed.” Helga patted the old woman’s hand with her own as she turned toward Salazar.

Salazar was already moving in the direction of the Castle. His excitement could not be contained. Poor Helga attempted to break into as quick a pace as her heavy legs could muster. Soon she caught up to Salazar but her huffing and puffing was also accompanied by cramping in her legs and back.

She bent low and begged Salazar to slow his pace. He turned abruptly and gave her a glare that sent a bit of a chill through her spine. Helga shook her head and pushed the slight feeling of fear out of her mind. Standing up straight up once more, she walked alongside the strapping young Slytherin.

A strong knock upon the large oak and wrought iron doors of the Castle caused an echo to reverberate throughout the interior.

The door slowly creaked open, revealing a small servant who bowed low and beckoned the two visitors inside.

There Salazar and Helga were met by a vision of great grandeur and display of wealth. Helga nearly toppled over as she leaned back to view the ornately hand painted ceilings. Fresco upon Fresco covered the coffered and vaulted ceiling while dozens of richly colored tapestries hung two stories in length from the ceiling, nearly touching the highly polished granite floors.

Next to a tall mirror stood a very large open door which led to a richly decorated and welcoming room. The hearth of ornately carved marble contained a fully blazing fire.

Rowena Ravenclaw was seated In a delicate chair that faced the fireplace. Raising a hand she summoned her servant to her side. He whispered something in her ear that neither Salazar nor Helga was capable of making out.

The servant approached the visitors and once again bowed low with an outstretched arm, directing and presenting them to his mistress.

This servant was quite odd looking to Salazar. He did not appear to be human, exactly, but how could that be? Not human? He had huge eyes and pointed ears; one a bit floppy. The garb that he wore looked more akin to an ancient Roman Toga than any acceptable fashion he had ever seen.

“I know why you have come; your travels have been reported to me. Word has it that you are in search of others who possess powers likened to your own. Well, your search has led you to me and I can assure you that it has not been in vain.”

The young woman rose from her chair. Even though the lighting in the room was fairly low, it was sufficient to show the stunning beauty that this woman possessed. Her eyes were dark but sparkled bright as the moon. Her cheeks sat high above a beautiful mouth that was a natural cherry red. Her nose was finely shaped and led upward to a forehead that was adorned with a tiara of fine jewels; jewels that sparkled almost as brightly as did her eyes.

Rowena Ravenclaw moved with grace and ease, as she motioned to her guests to seat themselves upon the finely crafted sofa and chairs that faced her own.

The servant left the room while the visitors were mesmerized by the elegant beauty of the young woman. He re-entered the room with a tray laden with treats fit for a king or queen. Promptly placing the tray upon the table, he poured tea from a silver pot into fine porcelain cups. He handed one to each of the visitors along with small plates. Each of them was piled high with several types of sandwich wedges and delicate pastries. Suddenly, they heard a small *POP* and without warning he was gone.

Salazar and Helga were both amazed at what they had just witnessed. The servant had literally disappeared before their very eyes. Salazar rubbed his eyes and once again looked to the spot where the servant had vanished. It was true; this woman possessed powers that enabled her to do things Salazar could barely dream of attempting.

“You have come from far away, I have been informed. How may I assist you on your quest?” Asked Rowena as she once again seated herself.

Simultaneously Salazar and Helga responded with their plans to try to unite and then teach those with similar abilities. Details of the ideas and dreams of her visitors intrigued Rowena.

“I have lived here my entire life. I have loved, I have lost and I have lived on. My husband passed away shortly after my daughter was born; here in this very castle. The Ghost of his memory haunts me day and night and I find that if I do not escape this life I might go mad. I owe so much more to my daughter than this that I must find a way out of the prison that this castle has become. The thought of what might have been, of the lives we might have continued to share so happily together, haunts me. My only wish was for the two of us to watch our daughter grow up here, become a young lady, find love, and pass on that love on to children of her own. This was a dream that I will no longer be able to share with him.”

Rowena sobbed openly before regaining her composure. Her servant came to her aid with a soft hankie that she used to wipe the tears of loss from her beautiful eyes.

Salazar moved to Rowena’s side and knelt. Helga also came to her and took her hand into her own, giving it an extended squeeze of understanding.

Rowena finally spoke, doing so slowly and with great care:

“It has been reported to me from a reliable source that one with powers far beyond my own, resides on the western shores of the Isle. If we, oh I am sorry to be so presumptuous. That is, if you would allow me to become part of your group, may we set out in search of this young man? He is said to have performed great deeds of heroism and to be just and brave. He is also said to be strong and respected by all who make his acquaintance. This is someone that surely would make a great teacher of the youth that you, or shall I say we, will attempt to unite.”

Rowena next presented an offer that she was sure would be welcomed by her fellow, gifted souls.

“I have inherited from my father and from his father’s father, the lands in the north of the Isle. It is well hidden from those who would search for it, and known only to those of us with the ability to see it. It is a rocky outcropping surrounded by a deep and placid lake. Framed by peaked mountains it is also quite high and rugged. Beside it lies a forest of such great depth and darkness that no one who has ventured in has ever returned. “

“I would like to offer this land on which you can build your school to teach the young and talented amongst us. First, however, I wish to find this great and respected young man and include him in our numbers.”

Salazar and Helga were both thrilled and humbled by the offer of Rowena’s vast wealth and land holdings. Salazar promptly took her hand and shook upon the agreement as Helga welcomed her into their small fold with open arms.

The next morning the three of them set out upon sturdy steeds accompanied by Rowena’s servant. He rode upon a white beauty that had a horn jutting out of its forehead in a spiraling form. The servant bundled Rowena’s infant daughter into a package that he carried on his back.

After many days and nights, they arrived at the western shores of the Isle, entering a small moor. There were few structures and even fewer residents that could be found what had turned into a cold and snowy night.

It was Christmas Eve and the only lighted structure was a small tavern near the end of the town’s small row of buildings.

After Salazar dismounted his horse, tying it to a small hitching post just outside the entrance way, he knocked on the door. It was opened promptly by a rough yet very handsome middle aged Inn keeper.

The keep bowed to his visitors and welcomed them into the establishment. There at the end of a single long scrubbed wood table was a large stone hearth ablaze with kettles and a roasting goose. The cooking bird turned slowly on a spit as it glistened above the roaring fire.

Rich aromas of cooking food filled the large room. The group was motioned to benches on each side of the long tavern table where they were promptly seated.

Plates were placed before them as the servant handed the infant child to Rowena. A soft gurgling sound came from the swaddling blankets and only the angelic face of the child could be seen. The infant’s blue eyes shown brilliantly from the reflection of light cast from the hearth and the many lanterns that hung from the taverns stucco and hewn wood walls.

After a short period of time, the keep returned with a servant. This servant looked familiar to Salazar; it was apparent that it was the same type of creature as that one who served Rowena Ravenclaw.

Tankards were placed before each of the visitors and filled to their brims, topped with an overflowing head of foam. The pewter plates before them were quickly filled with fowl and potato’s and squashes all piping hot and looking as delicious as anything any of the visitors had ever eaten before.

After a few mouthfuls of the wonderful bounty, Salazar asked the keep if he had any knowledge of a young man of great deeds and abilities that was rumored to reside in the area.

The Inn keep began to laugh heartily to the amazement of his guests.

“Ah, yes, the one you seek. Yes, I know of him. Know of him well, as he is my son. The flesh of my own loin, a mighty lion of manly youth is he. He possesses powers beyond compare that have been handed down from father to son from the beginning of time, from my fathers, fathers, father. From the Peverel’s our waters do spring. From he who was the youngest of the fabled fathers three, he is the youngest of their bloodline indeed. “

The Inn keep puffed up his chest with great pride. He then turned to his servant and requested the presence of his son, “at once”.

With a loud *POP* the servant was gone. Once again, Salazar and Helga were astonished by the vanishing figure before them. Rowena went on to explain that these servants were known as House Elves. They serve their masters every need, are very ancient and magically gifted creatures.

Rowena went on to tell of tales of the Unicorn upon which her House Elf and infant daughter rode, the illusive Centaurs in the forest and of many other creatures of lore that were not lore at all but were in fact real.

The back door of the Inn opened and in walked a tall and very handsome, strapping young man. Clad in heavy furs to help keep him warm, he had obviously been outside in the cold; ice and snow clung to his Ginger colored hair. Helga smiled broadly as she too was of the Ginger persuasion and was always pleased to see one of her own. She was especially pleased to meet one as grand and handsome as this young man.

“Ah, yes, let me introduce my son; Godric Gryffindor, torch bearer of the powers of the Peverel’s and the heir to magical history itself. “

With this, the Inn Keep stepped back and allowed his son to welcome their guests in an appropriate fashion.

After introductions were made, the tales of the four were exchanged until late into the night. Finally the elder Gryffindor closed up the Inn and led his guests to their rooms for the night.

The discussions and conversations began again first thing the very next morning over a breakfast of fresh eggs, bacon and toasted breads. Cold buttermilk was poured into pewter tankards and all partook of a most hearty meal.

Godric agreed with the offer to come and begin a school for youth who were similarly gifted as this group of four. Having grown up knowing about magical history, Godric knew that he was what others referred to as a Wizard, Warlock or even Sorcerer.

He went on to explain that Helga and Rowena were indeed Witches or Sorceresses and that his own mother was also one of their kind. She had perished many years earlier during an unfortunate incident involving a Dragon.

“A DRAGON” shouted Salazar. “Have you ever seen such a creature?”

“Yes he certainly has!” The elder Gryffindor chimed in.

“My son, Godric Gryffindor is the greatest Dragon Slayer in all the land!”

“Go on father; enough of your boasting about me. I am but a simple man who was born with magical powers. It would be my honor and duty to come and join you in your quest to unify and teach those who know not of who or what they truly are.”

The fire in the hearth was stoked once more and the four sat around it for many more hours discussing how they would go about creating the place of magical learning. The bond they formed strengthened as the embers in the hearth turned white and hot.

They agreed to set out for the lands that Rowena would bestow upon them a few days later. The snow had subsided as the sun raised high in the sky. A brisk wind would accompany them along their journey.

Weeks after leaving the western coastal home of the Gryffindor’s and following the guidance of Rowena Ravenclaw, the group approached a mighty frozen lake. It was surrounded by majestic mountains that rose high above the clouds, with peeks covered in caps of glistening white.

A forest for as far as the eye could see stretched out beyond this icy expanse. The lush greens of Pine mingled with a brown wood canopy of the mighty oaks, elms and elder trees.

The four plus infant and servant led their horses and Unicorn through a small passageway in the mountains where they were greeted by the rocky landscape that would become their home.

“The mighty granite that is so abundant upon this site will make for a structure that will withstand the ages.” Godric stated as he stood tall and strong. His hands rested on his hips as his eyes rose to the cloudless sky above.

“Yes, we shall build here. For this is where we have been blessed to have been led to.” Salazar spoke firmly as he took Rowena’s hand.

Rowena in turn reached out and took the hand of the astonished Helga Hufflepuff whose mouth remained agape in amazement and in awe of the sheer beauty of the land upon which they would create the school.

Salazar looked to the others and queried with strength and conviction in his voice; “What shall we call this Wizarding School? What would be a fitting name for the greatest place of learning and betterment of the greatest creatures to have ever walked upon this earth?”

Helga looked down at the ground upon which they all stood. There she noticed the lovely and delicate Hogwarts Flowers that were blooming in spite of the blanket of snow that covered the landscape.

The flowers stretched from the shore of the lake to the base of the majestic mountains, to the very edge of the forest.

Helga bent low and plucked a small handful of the delicate flowers, taking in a breath of its fragrant perfume.

“Hogwarts, I so do love Hogwarts,” she stated; oblivious to the others who were looking on and listening.

“Yes, from the earth itself, the gift given to us today is embodied in the lovely Hogwarts Flower.” Rowena agreed.

“Yes, how fitting to use something as graceful as the Hogwarts flower; delicate in appearance, yet thriving alongside the rugged granite these grounds and mountains are made of?” Godric beamed at the sight of the the soft flowers and the hard stone; beauty and strength, how well they went together.

“Hogwarts it is then!” Salazar boomed. His voice carried by the winds, echoed across the frozen lake.

Helga stood stunned as she realized that her innocent musings had somehow both put a name to and crystalized what had heretofore been just an idea; albeit a passionate one. This realization passed between all of them wordlessly. Humbled and silent, they gazed in wonder at this majestic place; a place where their idea would become a reality. They tried to imagine how being here would shape the lives of the youth fortunate enough to attend. They dared to hope that it would become known as a respected place of learning within the wizarding community.

As they stood dreaming about what could or might be there was something none of them imagined, something none of them could possibly know; The survival of everything their world held dear would ultimately be decided at this place, a place they would all call home, a place they had just named; “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry”…….

[grandpalovegood]

Prompt: Hogwarts a History
Title: A Prophecy Fulfilled
Author: Redwriter (ME)


A Prophecy Fulfilled

A gentle spring wind blows through the town. Outside a wooden sign squeaks. It features the severed head of a boar, dripping blood onto the ground below. A tiny bell chimes as the door opens. Sitting at a table at the center of the room, three heads turn in anxious hopes as to whom it might be. Their eyes light up as smiles cross their faces. A rather large young man, with a mane like beard stands suddenly. Crossing the floor quickly, he holds his arms open wide, in welcome.

"Good to see you old friend," he says as they pause for a quick embrace.

"Very good," she replies with a smile.

"It's been too long," said the very cheery young woman who just arrived. She takes his arm as he escorts her toward the party which awaits her. A very beautiful fair lady with long dark hair quickly stands to welcome her dear friend. They both lean forward to embrace one another. They press their cheeks together briefly in greeting.

"I'll have another said the large young man" holding up an empty mug. "This round's on me."

"Yes sir," squeaks the small House Elf. He quickly scurries to retrieve the mugs, then off he goes, long ears disappearing behind the counter as he tends to his duty.

"I was being kind, Helga." He states after noticing the look upon her face. They all take their seats.

"Sso good to finally have you here with usss once again," hisses a rather tall, slender young man. He holds out his hand in greeting, kissing the fingers of the new arrival.

"Salazar?" she said with surprise. "I wondered if you were going to be able to make it. I heard you had been away in your travels."

"I would not misss thisss for the world, my lady." he said with a nod.

They both turn toward the man who called the meeting.

"Has it been found?" she asks quickly, getting down to business.

"I believe so," said Godric.

"Here? In Hogsmeade?" Salazar sneers in doubt. He leans back in his chair, holding his fingertips together beneath his long sleeved dark green robes.

"No. 'Tis not far from here," states Gryffindor as he notices the look he was just given.

"How did it go again?" Helga asks with excitement. "He always spoke in riddles." She grins as she looks toward her good friend. "You were always his favorite student."

"Ah, our dear Merlin, always full of riddles." Rowena adds. Before she could answer, the House Elf returns with refreshments. The group pauses their conversation. They watch the tiny one make it's way around the table, serving each one in turn.

"Thank you," says Helga to the elf. She adds a polite nod in it's direction.

"I do not believe it. I have not seen nor heard of a dragon in these parts for ages." says Salazar.

"It's right where I thought it would be," Godric says, with an upward nod motioning toward the east. "There are caves near here. I've seen it with my own eyes. I know without a doubt it's the place we've all searched for."

The tiny bell is heard once again. A group of Goblins enter the establishment. The room suddenly gets quiet as all eyes watch as they make their way to a table over toward the huge fireplace. The House Elf again jumps to attend to it's duty. The four friends resume their conversation.

"I remain firm. If we are to do this, only pure bloods should be allowed admittance." hisses out Slytherin.

"I can not agree to that," states Hufflepuff. "No, no."

"I believe we shall teach those whose intelligence is surest." interjects Rowena positively.

"I feel that all should be allowed who show any sort of magical ability." says Helga. "If they have magic, they will need to know how to properly use it. I would love to take them all in my house." She takes a sip from her mug.

"Agreed. I too feel they should all be allowed to attend, if they are brave enough to come." Godric empties his mug and places it upon the table.

"Then I shall take the rest." Helga says as she takes a sip from her mug.

"How will each of the students know which house they belong?" asks Ravenclaw.

They all sit there, thinking in silence. Suddenly, with a good hearty laugh Godric tosses his hat to the center of the table.

"I've got it!" he shouts. They all look puzzled one to the other. Slowly a smile begins to cross Rowena's delicate face.

"You do not mean....?" she trails off in thought while staring at the hat.

"I do." He then leans back holding his head up at the brilliance of his thought. The others remained confused.

"I do not understand," states the ginger haired, round faced witch.

Godric holds out both of his hands toward his hat as in presentation.

"It is there. All we need do is add some brains to it, then allow it to do it's duty to the school for all future generations."

All smiled at the realization of his words. They each in turn took out their wands, pointing to the hat pronouncing instructions for the task it would be endowed with from that day forward. Once they were all finished, a tear formed near the brim. It looked something like a wide mouth. Suddenly, it opened on it's own and began to sing.

Today is a day for something new,
A place for learning without further ado.
Spells, enchantments, potions for brewing.
We'll fill their heads with magic, that's all worth knowing.
First a safe place to rest their heads,
Something, nice, comforting, four poster beds.
Come one, come all those with magical talents.
Our founders four will cause there to be a balance.
For none will be turned away now I have been sewn,
I will choose your new house, your new magical home.

The Hat now sits there in silence and appears to have raised an eyebrow. Godric gathers it up and places it back on top of his head.

"It's a great day for a walk wouldn't you all agree?" They all smile at each other. With excitement they all stand.

"A great day indeed." states Salazar.

As they make their way for the door, Godric tosses a gold Galleon onto the bar.

"That should cover the debt." The barmaid, who was polishing the wooden counter to a shine, quickly retrieves the money. She bites it just before dropping it into a wooden till beneath the counter. She nods in acknowledgment, then resumes her cleaning.

Godric quickly steps forward, opening the door, bowing to the ladies as they pass through.

Rowena grins and gracefully tilts her head to him.

"Always the true gentleman," she states.

Salazar bringing up the end of the line, rolls his eyes and hisses a slight laugh at the man.

"You'll never change my friend. Never change."

...................

As they walked along the High Street, the ladies, arm in arm chat, catching up on old times. Periodically, a giggle is heard between the two.

"What is that?" Salazar asks as he points to something silver. It has a ruby studded glint, which had caught his eye.

"Going in for Muggle weaponry these days?" he laughs teasingly.

Godric holds his head up proudly, as he retrieves the sword from it's sheath.

"Goblin made. I had it special ordered myself." he said as a matter of fact, holding it out for Salazar to see.

"It's no Excalibur as our teacher described it to us in our youth." Salazar says with a sneer. Yet, he could not help but admire the beauty of the sword. Godric places his large hand upon his friend's shoulder...

"True. So true. Yet, it serves many purposes. For one, Muggles think I am one of their own. They know not that I too carry a wand." They both laugh and shake their heads at the ridiculousness of it all.

"You can not be too careful these days Godric. If they find out you are a wizard, you will never find peace in their world." Salazar tells him. "I tell you, Muggles will always want more from you."

"I know dear friend. Do not forget, even Master Merlin has said we do need to treat them with love. Our students need to be taught that as well."

Slytherin does not say a word. Gryffindor eventually took the lead as they left town. Walking up toward a high cliff to the north of the Great Black Lake.

"Here we are." Walking backward, he holds both arms out wide. Behind him is a large field of grassy land. Over to one side a vast Dark Forest looms.

"I see no dragon Godric. I think you've lost your touch," laughs Salazar. The women look puzzled for a moment. Rowena looks out over the lake.

"You don't? Come now Salazar. Hasn't Master Merlin taught you anything?" She points below toward the cave's entrance.

"Always the clever one Rowena. Clever and beautiful," Godric says with a smile. "Yes, he sleeps within the cave below." Godric tips his hat to her brilliance. She stands tall, shaking her head with a grin at his words.

"This is perfect." Helga says with a cheery voice. "Are we ready to begin?"

They all walk in different directions. Pacing themselves apart. Hufflepuff walks to the north, turning around placing her back to an open field. Ravenclaw walks to the west having the lake to her right. Gryffindor heads toward the east, placing his back to the Great Forest. Slytherin stands to the side, pointing his wand nearest the cliff side.

Salazar steps forward quickly, firmly stating,

"I'll take the dungeons." He points his wand toward the ground. A very loud hiss issues from his between his lips. Out from the tip of his wand slides a very large silvery serpent. It turns to look at it's master, listening continuously to the language that only they two can understand. Suddenly, the serpent slithers off into a crack near the rock face. It disappears deep within, causing the ground to begin to quake violently.

Helga steps forward next, "I feel that the kitchens would be best placed below the Great Hall." Pointing her wand to the ground as well, she begins to chant. Out from the tip of her wand comes a very large silvery badger. It wanders around for a second, sniffing the ground all the while. It pauses then looks over it's shoulder toward it's creator for verification. Hufflepuff gives it a nod. It then begins to dig very deep, adding to the rumbling soil that is being unearthed already.

The sounds of rocks breaking, dirt being upturned cause a thunderous noise that only increase as time passes by. The base foundation of stone walls are now being formed. The building of excitement spreads among the four.

Godric joins in. His shouts sound like a loud deep roar. Suddenly, a very large silvery lion spews forth from Godric's wand. It then runs around shaking it's head for a moment. It too turns to face it's creator, listening to his instruction.

"For if we are to teach our students, there must be rooms for learning." The outside perimeter walls begin to grow far upward toward the skies. Sounds of stone and mortar crack and form as they find their place. Steps to the front door spring forth as walls continue to fill the interior basin.

Rowena points her wand. With her melodious voice, a huge silvery eagle is created. She flies high up over the growing establishment. She then hovers in place as she faces her maker, listening to instructions given. She then flies deep down inside the walls. Moving staircases begin to grow upward as Rowena raises her wand higher toward the bright blue skies.

The walls, windows, turrets and halls all have taken shape. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw towers are now topped with a roof. The ground begins to stop quaking. Sounds of the growing rock all stop. There is silence. The scent of fresh soil is strong, and the dust from broken stone begin to settle. The founders all smile for their magical creation was evidently quite impressive.

They all walk toward the west. Each one, knowing the others so well, that they need not to speak any words. Each in turn point their wands to the front door. Rowena causes a tall set of oaken doors to appear. Salazar steps forward, points his wand and a shield is seen. The symbol of the four founders crest, as he sees fit to make it. Godric adds above it words which say: "Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus." They all look at each other in puzzlement.

"Why that?" asks Slytherin. Godric lets out a boisterous laugh.

"I think it's wise to warn any students who might wander, to never tickle a sleeping dragon. He might be a bit testy after the noise we just made." Together, they all laugh.

"What shall we call it?" asked Salazar.

"That is simple, Hogwarts!" replied Hufflepuff. "Remember Merlin's riddle?" She begins to recite:

Where lies a dragon, you dare not wake.
Unforeseen castle so high we must make.
Safe place for learning, young minds will swell.
A sea full of Hogworts will cease to dwell.

"There was once a field of Hogworts growing here before we came. Besides, it goes along with the surrounding company. It fits perfectly."

"Hogwarts!" They all agree.

"Ladies, after you," Gryffindor once again bowed as he holds the door to the castle open for them to walk through. Helga begins to talk about a great feast to celebrate the beginnings of a new era.

In the distance a splash is heard. A family of giant squid play lazily in the Great Black lake. They had come up from the depths to see what has happened.

Then a thundering crowd of hooves pound the ground near the edge of the Dark Forest. A herd of Centaurs gathered to see what caused so much commotion. A rather large black toned one stepped forward before the rest of the herd. He states,

"The prophecy has been fulfilled." They each rear up on their strong hind legs and gallop away disappearing back within the forest from which they came.

[Duddahs]

Miss Charlotte, you know I love you more than my luggage.

Another great story by our fearless leader.

Thank you so much for the great read dear lady... Lady?( A Lady I may be, but you Sir are no Gentleman!)

Just a small line from one of the EA Harry Potter Video Games that sticks in my head...

[fangsfan1]

Yes I can see it happening just that way Miss C, especially love the part about the hat!