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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 08-05-2011, 11:33 PM   #1 (permalink)
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quill The Curse of Iperum - Sa16+

The Curse of Iperum
Episode ONE "Letter Recieved"


A Fanfiction Created for the pleasure of other fans. All recognizable character, environments, etc. are created by and credit given to the fabulous J.K.Rowling.


Hogwarts School
Of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall


Dear Mr.Tonks,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl no later than July 31st.
Yours sincerely,
Filius Flitwick
Deputy Headmaster


The golden bars of sunlight sifted in through the Venetian blinds and splashed on Andromeda Tonk’s untidy dining room table. She sat back with a heavy sigh into her chair and pushed the package of parchment to the center of the table. With a heavy heart, she mentally prepared herself for the task at hand; sending Teddy away to Hogwarts.

“PHWEEE!” The tea kettle on the stove stop whistled and swayed Andromeda from the table. She pulled down her apron upon standing and brought her wand out of the front pocket and turned the burner off.

“Was that the tea kettle?” A small voice called from a room away. Footsteps soon followed.

Alibis,” Andromeda whispered anxiously, sending the package of parchment hiding into a tall, cherry cabinet.

“Yes, love!” She called back, pulling a tray full of meaty pasties from the oven. “Dinner’s done.”

“I’m starving!” A mop of dirty blonde, curly hair poked around the corner, followed by a heart shaped face boy with a pointed nose. He held his tummy and gazed up with dark, twinkling eyes to his grandmother. His mood transformed quickly from excitement to worry. “Are you alright?”

Dromeda smiled faintly. The wrinkles around her bright lips extended. She nodded and turned away. Two porcelain plates and two small mugs whipped out of a cupboard as the table prepared itself for dinner. The kitchen had turned warm throughout the afternoon from the oven’s heat and the summer sun and had small beads of perspiration rolling from her temples. She dabbed them away and brought the kettle to the joining dining room and placed it within the bars of evening light.

Teddy followed her in a light heart skip, swinging a small pouch about at his side. He sang, “the Holyhead Harpies are bright in the air! Brooms in the skylight, Magpies beware! Champions! Champions!” He fell into a dining room chair and dropped the leather pouch on the table.

“Gran?” He called to her, eyes watching her every move.

“Hmm?” She pulled out the chair beside him for a seat and brushed down his unruly hair.

Teddy asked, “Do you think I’ll be on a Quidditch team when I become a 2nd year? I heard Harry got onto his team his first year! It’s unbelievable, ain’t it?”

Isn’t it,” she corrected him patiently. The tea pot floated from one mug to the other, pouring it’s contents and leaving a curl of steam in it’s wake. “Of course you will. You’re already doing so well on your broom.”

Teddy grinned, pleased with the answer and took a bite into his pasty. Dromeda glanced over the rim of her mug as she took a sip to the leather pouch next to Teddy’s plate and nearly choked. She sat the cup on the table and traced the sewn patch on the face of the pouch with her finger tips.

“Where did you find this Teddy?”
she surveyed curiously, examining the condition of the black and yellow ‘Hufflepuff’ patch.

Teddy spoke through a mouthful of food with excitement, “found it in the attic, Gran. ‘Found lots of great stuff in the attic. ‘Reckon it used to be mum’s, yeah?”

“Reckon you’d be right,” she replied, amused. Then asked in a grave tone, nearly forgetting the dangerous condition of the house’s old attic, “what were you doing in the attic?”

Before she got a reply, a brown speckled barn owl swooped in low through the open kitchen window, dropped a letter in Teddy’s lap and perched itself on the high back of an empty dining room chair. Teddy eagerly ripped the piece of parchment open and read quietly to himself.

“Gran!” He shouted, halfway through the letter. “GRAN!” He got up and began pacing energetically around the table with the letter in his hands. “I KNEW it! I KNEW I heard another owl come in earlier. Gran, where’s my Hogwarts letter?”

Andromeda eyes widened and her fork dropped to the plate with a loud “CLANG!”

Teddy went on, “Fred got his letter today! That MUST mean I’ve got mine. PLEASE, where’d you hide it? Fred told me you must’ve hid it because he was sure I’d send him an owl before he’d send me one.”

There was a deep, anguished breath, and the parchment package flew from the tall cabinet corner and floated before Teddy in the air. He hopped up and caught it, reading it proudly out loud to his audience.

When he finished, he slouched with satisfaction into his chair. The barn owl squawked irritably.

“Oh,” Teddy acknowledged the owl and tossed it a piece of his bread. “Off you go now.” The bird fluffed its feathers appreciatively and with two heavy flaps of wings, ascended into the air and back out the window.

“You better eat your dinner before it turns cold,”
Andromeda warned. “If you don’t finish it, we won’t be going to Diagon Alley tomorrow morning for your things.”

And with that being said, Teddy shoveled several hearty mouthfuls until his plate was empty.


***

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was surprisingly busy for a July afternoon. All sorts of trunks on wheels were being carted to and fro throughout the halls as Professors began unpacking for the next term’s stay. Filch, the caretaker, stood at Hogwart’s grand entrance with a broom, sweeping feverishly after each Professor entered.

Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick, who had moved in the week previously, watched approvingly as the staff staggered off carriages that had carried them from the Hogwarts Express to the castle. Rubeus Hagrid was on stand by to help the staff carry in the heaviest of trunks and such.

“Oh, Professor Longbottom!”
Minverva smiled congenially as a broad shouldered, tall young man fought the current from the inside of the castle to stand beside her.

“Are you already unpacked?” she asked nodding to Professor Slughorn in passing.

“Half of my house s’already here,” Longbottom laughed, crossing his arms.

Filius Flitwick looked up and questioned, “spending a lot of time in the green house this summer, eh, Longbottom?”

Neville nodded yes and replied, “got some new plants in at the end of June. Golifigus Toris – Biddy Spawners. They’re big babies really.” He gingerly tended to a bandaged wound on his thumb.

“Anyways,” he smiled nervously, “when d’you want me to get started on the Gryffindor tower?"

Minerva pondered on this before answering, “I know you’re anxious, but it’d probably be best to wait until next week after we get a reply from our new first years.”

“Oi! Watch it there, Miss Cheshire!” The hoarse shouts of Hagrid interrupted their conversation. Minerva squinted through the sunlight and observed as a pile of trunks spilled out of carriage’s compartment door and onto the gravel path, Hagrid helpless to stop it. A young witch clambored over the mound of trunks after the cascade.

“Lemme give you a hand!”
Hagrid insisted, reaching out. After helping her to the ground, Hagrid stared over his shoulder desperately. “Longbottom! Come put yer young muscles ter work over here. We’re gonna need an extra hand.”

Filius clicked his tongue in shame and chuckled, “Minerva, I think you’re in over your head with this new Muggle Studies teacher. Look at all those trunks!”

She rolled her eyes disapprovingly and watched as Neville hustled down the steps to help. “I hope she’s got plenty of helpful teaching tools within those trunks. Anyways, she doesn’t need to be great at charms, Professor Flitwick.”

She reminded Filius of Miss Cheshire's past Hogwarts experience. They both watched as the new professor summoned the rest of her carry on packages by magic from the carriage. She was a curvaceous, short young woman with long plaits of yellow hair that were tied up in ribbons, her bangs plastered to her forehead from the heat. She laughed loudly when a small package knocked Neville on the head and placed her hand on his shoulder, “I’m SO sorry!”

Minerva continued, keeping an eye on the interaction before her, “Pomona wouldn’t recommend anyone else anyhow.”

“Of course Pomona Sprout wouldn’t recommend anyone else. That’s her niece.”
Flitwick answered earnestly.

“These trunks should go first,” the girl instructed wiping her forehead and pointing to the three largest of trunks. “ – oh! Oh! But be careful!” One of the trunks had popped its mouth open and bit Neville’s bandaged thumb. Hagrid hopped back in shock.

“Filius,” Minerva looked down with a frown, “have the two of you gotten into an argument?”

Filius turned a dark shade of scarlet and shoved his small hands into his pockets. “I’m just saying. You should’ve given her a trial year before you right made her into head of Hufflepuff.”

“And who would we put in the position in the meantime?”

Filius shrugged with defeat. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Where’ we takin’ these trunks?” Asked Hagrid, heaving the second heaviest over his shoulder with a grunt.

“Those two go to my class room on the ground floor. Door’s the last one before the courtyard.”
She answered wistfully, piling a small trunk atop a larger, bright yellow one with wheels.

“Now that one,” she faced Neville with round brown eyes, her nostrils flared, “ – no, no. It’ll snap you again. It’s very protective, you see. You’ll have to hoist in on your shoulder like Hagrid. Yes. Yep. You’ve got it. Quite heavy. Sorry, love. Anyhow, that one goes in my quarters on the third floor. Oi! Sorry. It’s bitten you again. Shame on you, Dora!”

“She reminds me of Ponoma,”
Minerva reminisced as Hagrid passed by with a heavy brow.

“I hope Muggle Studies isn’t the only thing she’s teaching with all those trunks,” thought Flitwick aloud, clearing his throat as Neville heaved up the steps before them with the temperamental trunk shuddering atop his shoulder.

“She’ll be taking over transfigurations,”
Minerva answered almost inaudibly.

Flitwick gasped. “Transfigurations? …”

“Yes, Filius. Transfigurations. I think it’s about time I focus on being Headmistress. Teaching at the same time has been quite problematic."

"I don't disagree to that - by any means. I trust your word, Minerva."


- To be Continued.
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Old 10-14-2011, 11:28 PM   #2 (permalink)
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Nice story! You should definitely keep it going. Can't wait to figure out what that title means... hmm...
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Old 10-22-2011, 07:53 AM   #3 (permalink)
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