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Honeydukes Cellar (Incomplete FF) Here is the home to those stories who didn't quite get told in full.

 
 
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Old 06-27-2011, 07:59 AM   #1 (permalink)
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Tangled Webs We Weave
Hey everybody! This is my third fan fiction and hopefully the first on that doesn’t end up in the Inactive Vaults. It’s basically the story of Voldemort returning to power yet again, but this time finding people who don’t know of his true identity and become friends with him. It has a lot of sub-plots, which will get bigger and more important in later chapters, I think. Enjoy!

And the prologue begins…
Hey, my name is Fletcher. I’m here to get something straight about reincarnation. Some muggles will tell you that what you do in the Earth Realm determines what you are reincarnated into.

LIES!

Now, don’t get me wrong, there is a reincarnation process in place. See, when Lucifer was exiled to the Underworld, he was told he could collect as many evil souls as he could. But, for his enjoyment, God put a clause in the situation. He placed reincarnation portals all over hell. Even the most evil of souls get a chance to redeem themselves after being reborn. If you haven’t guessed by now, I’m what you would call a Reincarny. My new name: Fletcher Lynskey. My old name:

Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Yes, yes, it’s very shocking. Lord Voldemort returns once again. But I think my story is one you may enjoy…

See, it all began on the day I died. The day I really died. When the great Harry Potter destroyed all my Horcruxes and finished the deed by killing me during the battle of Hogwarts. I found myself in a strange place. I can’t find the right words to describe it, but it reminded me of King’s Cross station. I understand now I was in the place my old enemy, Potter, was in when I killed the Horcrux inside him in the Forbidden Forest. It’s kind of a limbo for souls when they can’t go to Heaven or the Underworld for some reason. My reason was that I was not a complete soul. I was only a fragment of one. But when I came to King’s Cross, I found the other seven pieces of my soul. They took the form of seven shining balls of light. As I approached them, they floated through my chest, one by one. As I looked down at my hands, they were no longer ghostly white. They felt like normal human hands. I looked down at the rest of my body and realized the rest of me was back to human form as well. I reached up and felt a mass of soft, silky curls on my once bald head. For one wild moment I was glad that I was back to normal, as a human being with a soul.

Next thing I knew, I was in Hell.

Literally.

And I suppose you don’t need telling how I got out. It took eight years to find a reincarnation portal, but I was finally reborn into the Lynskey family as Fletcher. Fortunately, I was born into a pureblood wizarding family, meaning I could keep my wizard powers. I spent my days plotting more evil schemes to recruit what was left of my Death Eaters and find new ones as well. I would finally accomplish what I had been attempting for twenty-five years.

I was going to kill Harry Potter.

HEY PEOPLE LOOK DOWN HERE!!
I forgot to make this disclaimer that Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, who I am not. I AM NOT EVEN CLOSE. I feel ashamed. TT_TT Anyway, I only own the plot and Fletcher Lynskey’s name. Everything else is J.K. Rowling’s. You probably already knew that, but it’ the rules to write this. :O
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Old 07-06-2011, 08:10 PM   #2 (permalink)
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OH MY GOD!

Lord Moldey-Butt is back!

But he's not Lord MB

This is interesting!

PAMS

Ooo First Reader!
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Old 07-16-2011, 05:38 AM   #3 (permalink)
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The Saga of the Origins of Rose Weasley
And this is where one of the sub-plots that I mentioned is introduced. As you could have guessed by the title of this continuous segment of the story, it involves Rose Weasley. See, it all began eight years after the Battle of Hogwarts, not long before Voldemort was reborn as Fletcher Lynskey…

Somewhere on the coast of Italy…
I settled down on the low stone wall with a heavy sigh. I squinted into the weak, early morning sun for a moment before lowering my gaze and staring down the sloping hillside towards the tiny town that included the little inn where I'd left Hermione sleeping about half an hour ago.

”What am I doing here?” I asked myself out loud. “What are we doing?”

Snorting grimly, I thought it would be more appropriate to ask why we weren't doing much of anything, especially since Hermione'd dragged us up here – wherever here was – with such insistence. I scrubbed my hands over my face and then raked one through my hair.

Turning to my right, I could see where the small river that skirted the town cut through the hills and was spanned by an ancient-looking stone bridge. A narrow road ran over the bridge, snaking its way along in front of the wall where I sat, and continuing on to the left and downwards, until it disappeared amongst the town's relentlessly cheerful buildings. Beyond the town I could see the sea crashing against the coast in the middle distance.

I glanced directly behind myself for brief moment, quickly taking in the crooked stone steps and the tidy white church with its banners flapping gently in the light morning breeze.

When I swung round to face the town again, I spied a small figure with unmistakable hair trudging up the road. I sighed again, looking down at my feet and kicking the heel of my trainer against the wall.

By the time I looked up again she was standing in front of me looking uncertain and holding two polystyrene cups. She offered me one, almost shyly.

"Tea?"

I nodded and took the cup, but still didn't say anything. I searched her face and was about to speak – despite not being sure what would come out of my mouth – but she beat me to it.

"Are you…you're not going to ditch me, are you?" she blurted.

I gaped at her in utter shock. "No! I thought…are you going to ditch me?"

"No!" She looked at me, a picture of misery with her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail and her eyes slightly puffy, though from sleep or tears I couldn't tell. She'd obviously dressed quickly before leaving the inn, as she'd thrown my shirt on with the skirt she'd been wearing the day before, and the then tossed her jacket over it all. But what cinched the very un-Hermione nature of the outfit was the trainers with no socks. I looked at her feet for a moment, then her trembling legs, and by the time my eyes reached her face once again, I realized that she wasn't just cold; she was shaking with the effort of holding back her emotions.

"Hermione…oh love, come here," I put the cup she'd given me down on the wall next to me and patted the space on my other side. She moved to sit slowly, placing her own cup on the wall on her far side. She sat spine straight and not leaning into me as she usually would.

I reached out and wrapped my arm around her, pulling her snug against my side, and, pressing a kiss to the curls that fluttered near her temple, I whispered, "Now, will you tell me why you brought us up here, and what's got you in such a state? This didn't just start the other day, love; you've been acting off for weeks."

And, as I'd thought she might, she burst into noisy, uncontrollable sobs. I simply pulled her closer, stroking one hand through her hair and down her back and resting the other on her barely swollen belly. I remembered the day six weeks ago when she told me she was pregnant with our baby, which I had once thought was the reason behind her emotional state. But now I knew something else was bothering her.

As her sobs finally receded to snuffly-sounding gasps, I spoke softly in her ear. “Hermione, love, what’s going on with you? Where are we, anyways?”

"Italy," she answered almost automatically, her voice slightly muffled as she wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. "The city of Genoa. I thought we could use some time together."

I couldn’t blame her for wanting us to spend time together. What with her new job at the Ministry and me both helping George at the shop and training with the Aurors at the same time, we almost never got to see each other anymore. The last time we had really spent any time together was right after Voldemort’s downfall when we went to get her parents from Australia. Of course, there was all this stuff with the baby, but other than that we had never seen less of each other since before the day we met. Though something told me there was some reason beyond that for dragging me up to Genoa. I didn’t want to push her too hard, though; the pregnancy had made her three times as sensitive, and far more vulnerable to breaking down.

“Hermione…Hermione, I know that’s not the only reason we came here,” I said softly.

Hermione, looking like she was about to burst into tears again, answered slowly. “All right…we’re actually here to…to elope.”

My jaw dropped slightly. We had come here to elope. While this fact was shocking enough, what was even more shocking was that Hermione Granger, of all people, was the one suggesting this.

“But,” I began quietly, “Mione, what about our jobs? And our families?”

“Well…” she said, looking at me with those sad brown eyes and sliding a hand over mine, which was still resting on her belly, “another reason for this is the family that we’re about to have. I mean, Ron, you’ve been reading the Daily Prophet. Death Eaters all over England have been getting back together because they’ve been ‘summoned by their master’ or something like that.”

“Well, yeah, but—“

“But nothing, Ron! What if he really is coming back? And even if he’s not, what if the Death Eaters do something on their own that’s just as bad? You’ve heard Harry talking about it. I…I don’t want our baby to be born into a world of war. I just can’t let what happened to us happen to her.”

“Her?”

“Well, yeah,” she said, suddenly looking embarrassed. “It’s just…I have this feeling that it’s going to be a girl. Just…mother’s intuition, I guess. But that’s not the point. The point is that nothing like that has ever happened in the Italian wizarding world. It’s not like there aren’t dark wizards here, but it’s nothing compared to England.

“And besides,” she continued, “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you while you were out fighting Death Eaters.”

“Now I understand,” I murmured. I wanted to protest, to talk her out of all this elopement nonsense. But the more I thought about it, the more I understood why she wanted to do this. “Well…I guess if it makes you happy, I can give it a shot.”

“Oh, RON!” Hermione threw her arms around my neck. “You’ll really do it?”

“Of course, love,” I said, stroking her unruly brown curls. “We can get new jobs at the Italian Ministry or something, can’t we?”

She nodded. “Of course, it’d be a lot easier if we learned how to speak Italian first.”

“We’ll have to get to work on that tomorrow, then.” I slid off the wall and sat on the grass under it. I was followed by Hermione, and we curled up together until he sun was high in the sky and our tea had gone cold.
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Old 09-21-2011, 11:43 AM   #4 (permalink)
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