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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 11-16-2017, 06:36 AM   #1 (permalink)
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Disclaimer : This story was based on the series, created by JK Rowling, on which I have no property right and is not my intention to infringe any copyright.


Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3


Chapter 1 – Old Ink

Damian arrived home, his home was nothing but a single room apartment. A apartment no one would every envy him for, as it was dark and dismal there was only a single light that lit up the apartment and it was in the center of the room hanging and swaying from the ceiling almost like a spider climbing down from a thread it had spun. The walls were a dull and dirty gray colour that Damian had once thought might have been a slate gray in a previous life, but in this life it was cranked and peeling off the very walls it had placed. To most people his living quarters would look like a dump worthy of being condemned. Damian crossed his room dropping a gray pea coat he had been wearing that day onto the floor. Walking past a few mounds of clothes he made his way to his bed he slowly sat down on the edge of his bed sighing heavily.

For some reason Damian was very it wasn’t as he worked, he once was employed for the Ministry of Magic but that was many moons ago. Thinking back then only made Damian anger the Ministry of Magic turned their back on him cause of the way he practiced magic. Yes it was different compared to others but it was no reason as to firing, his father was the same as him and he was well respected so why wasn’t he, it didn’t feel far.

Damian processed a special type of skill that he inherited from his family and that was the ability to absorb seals, curses and hexes from cursed objects. Of course, with this ability there were drawbacks to it, as he absorbed them those spells became one with him. His father had this power and it eventually took his life while Damian was a teen.

Damian pulled out his wand of his pants pocket and pointed it at the record player that silently lived in the corner of his room, with a slight twist of his wrist the once silent record player came to life. A song began to play a song that Damian loved very much My Funny Valentine. When he was young he remembered his father telling him that he mother loved this song, and this was only real connection to his mother as she passed away while giving birth to him. As the music played he laid backwards onto his bed shifting slightly as he felt a spring stab him in the side. As he finally became comfortable he lifted his left arm up and looked at his tattoos. Tattoos lined his arm from his fingers up to his shoulder, each one had been either a seal, hex or curse he had absorbed. As he stared at his arm he felt a slight tingle on his upper arm it knew the meaning of this tingle. “I guess its migration time?” he said aloud.

A flock of birds was located on his upper arm the once still black silhouettes of the birds began to flap their wings as they slowly started to climb up his arm to the torso and slowly up his neck to his face. “Remember not the eyes” he said as if having a conversation with the birds and as if they understood the decided to rest on the right side of his face. To anyone muggle and wizard alike this was weird tattoos that moved on the free will, but this was normal to Damian he could go to bed and the tattoos would be in one spot but when he awoke they all would be in a new space they would call home.

Damian’s body was littered with tattoos mostly they resided on his arms, neck, and chest and rare few would house itself on his face he personally rather they didn’t but he didn’t feel the urge of fighting them. He usually would back in the days of working in the Ministry but those were long good, the people he once thought were his friends started to call him freak before Damian could even explain he was fired. Now his only friends where his tattoos.

As he laid on his bed he stared up at the ceiling and remembered the first seal/curse he broke and how his father taught him……. “Hey son come here” his father called him from the other room. Curious the young ten-year-old Damian came running from the other room to see his dad standing at his work desk. “Yes! Dad what do you need?” he young Damian asked “I think it’s time you inherited the family special secret” he said with a slight smile. “Secret?” Damian asked tilting his just slightly at his father not sure what his father meant. Without saying anything his father undid his cuff links and rolled up his sleeves to expose his arm that was black as black as coal. He had never seen his father’s bare arm before he began to part his lips as to ask what it is but his father interrupted. “This is what you will be learning today son, the ability to absorb curses. This is result of what happens your skin turns black as if dunked in ink.”

Suddenly his daydream came crashing down as a sharp searing pain raced through him. A pain that was if he skin was being set aflame grunting Damian tried to focus where the pain itself was located. It didn’t take long before he realized where the pain was originating from it was coming from his upper chest, he lifted his shirt up to his collar bone to look. And with a pit in his stomach he knew it had to be a tattoo and he so wished it hadn’t been this one. One his upper chest he had a rather large tattoo that of dual pistols both pointing in opposite directions. He remembered when he absorbed this curse and how nasty it was and it wasn’t like it will ever let him forget, the pain started to increase as response Damian teeth started to clench tighter this was absolute torture he thought.

It couldn’t be help it was time for his medicine, stretching to his nightstand Damian reached into the overstuffed draw as he searched for a bottle. Finally, he pulled it out, it was a small bottle with a greenish gray liquid in it. Inside was a potion he had brewed in which would relieve some of his pain he dreaded this potion more so then the pain, as he was never good at making Potions. With a knot in his throat he raised the bottle up to his life and with his teeth pulled the top off. With some gusto he quickly drank the gray liquid as he did his face instantly turned green. The potion though from the outside look like a thin liquid potion but in fact it had the texture and taste of sludge. Before his body could even respond to the vile concoction he passed out on his bed…
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Last edited by Yuoji; 11-18-2017 at 05:53 AM.
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Old 11-18-2017, 12:31 AM   #2 (permalink)
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Chapter 2 – The Parlor

Damian awoke the following morning after passing out after taking the potion, did it work yes and no. The potion took some of the pain away but it still left a lingering pain similar pain to that of when a limb would fall asleep. Damian rubbed the aching pain in his chest, at least it was more an annoying pain then a something being burned into his chest. He arose from his bed scratching his head as he walked across his room it a cracked mirror that leaned against the wall taking his hand, he wiped a thin layer of dust from it once that was done he stared at his reflection and noticed the birds that flocked to his face were no longer there. Curious he rolled up his sleeve on the left side he noticed that they had migrated back to their original place.

With a sigh Damian reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes lighting on as he sat back on the edge of his bed kicking the piles of clothes around him trying to decide what to wear today or while at the same time deciding what he was planning on doing. A cloud of smoke exited his lips as he found a semi holely black tee that was kinda trending and a pair of super skinny jeans. He lazily got changed as he changed he put his smoke out as slipped on a ratty pair of converse and his gray peacoat. He slipped his wand into his jacket pocket as he had decided on where he was planning on heading today and he needed it to gain access to his destination.

Today he was planning on heading to pretty much only place he didn’t feel like a freak and that was rare these days his destination was The Blue Door Tattoo Parlor. This wasn’t a regular tattoo parlor it was a wizard tattoo parlor that specialized in magical charms turned into tattoos it was also a hangout place for the outcasts of the wizarding world which Damian was apart of. Those cast outs could also find work here as in a backroom they have posting for mercenary work, which didn’t make them popular with The Ministry. The problem had was actually locating this parlor as it wasn’t exactly an easy location to find, a shop that practiced charms as its bread and butter was easily able to charm up its location so that the Ministry could never find it no matter how hard they looked.

Damian had asked the owner exactly what charms did he use in order to hide from the Ministry as he wished to use the same charms to hide his apartment. Damian was a reoccurring face on the Ministries most wanted, not for doing something bad but out of fear. They feared the curses that he absorbed against them, but this was farther from the truth Damian had absorbed these curses to prevent anyone innocent form accidentally stumbling across them and getting hurt. The Ministry didn’t understand this so what happens to those that are consumed by fear they automatically jump to conclusions in fact wars have started for the same reasons. The owner had told him he used charms that made it so that those of any slight ill intent could ever come across the parlor but those looking for shelter and like-minded people could be able to come across the parlor. This still didn’t stop the occasional stranger from stumbling into the parlor he would always respond “Destiny allowed you here because it sensed you belong here for some reason.”

The owner was a strange man in Damian’s eyes he was very optimistic yet wise and Damian could share they were about the same age. It just baffled him he always fell into deep thought as to how and why he was so wise and optimistic Damian even once came to the conclusion that maybe he used a charm that he tattooed onto himself to make him appear young. Then it could come to a new fork in the road was he that vain or was he mistaken this cycle would turn and turn into his mind but he was always to scared to ever ask.

Damian slowly stepped out his apartment and locked the door behind him as he did the door vanished as if never there. This one of the security processes he did in case anyone tried to discover his apartment when he wasn’t home just another percussion he thought it couldn’t hurt he thought. He just didn’t want the Ministry sticking their noses in his business he wanted his privacy, was he nervous as to the Ministry catching him no not really, he knew if they wanted to catch him they would have already but they didn’t know the extent of the curses he had absorbed so they stayed their distance the only people that knew what kind of curses that were embedded into him was himself and his father. He would never tell and his father was no longer physically alive Damian had lost his father while he was a teen so his father would only actually know of a small handful of the curses that Damian had absorbed.

Damian turned down to face the hallway that lead up to his room which in appearance looked ten times worse then his actual room. The hall was dark brown with lights hung every ten feet from the ceiling it was the hallway that you didn’t want to walk down in the middle of the night in fear someone might be watching you but Damian was comfortable with this as he made his way down the fall all the while keeping his eye out for the damaged architecture of the halls. The holes in the floor the cracks that littered the ceiling and some of debris that had fallen from the ceiling onto the floor. All while keeping his eye out for the local wildlife that also lived here the roaches, rats, spiders, assorted bugs and the once in while feral cat or dog. As he reached the end of the hall he was at the stop of a staircase and began walking down it as he climbed down to the first floor of the apartment build the stairs creaked as if they were to fall out from under you, and the railing just wobbled as if only be held in place with one singular nail.

To a normal person I guess this place would be considered unlivable but to Damian this was home and thought of all these faults some people might see as character and charm who can say that there home brought them a sense of adventure and danger, well Damian can and he was proud of that. Even the wildlife was interesting he remembered once sitting down in the hallway and watching a roach and centipede go at each other and he couldn’t look away it was so interesting. Damian walked through the lobby and saw the owner which was a very elderly muggle man that to be in late eighties if not early nineties before heading out he walked over to the elderly man “Good Morning Mister Hanes how are you this morning?” Damian asked sincerely. As if not noticing Damian Mr. Hanes bushy and unrulily white eyebrows perked up “Oh if it isn’t young Mister Reed, I’m doing well young man how about yourself?” he asked in a low growling voice.

“I’m well I’m off to see if I can find some work…” before he could even finish Mr. Hanes interrupted him “Its good to see such young blood in this place, your up every morning searching for a job. With all us old timers here its nice to see you trying so hard, have I ever told you your one of my favorite tenant you never once complain. And I know this place isn’t that great I can honestly say this place is dive yet us old timers find such peace in this.” He said as Damian nodded “as I find peace here as well” Damian responded as he saw Mr. Hanes grow a cheerful smile on his face. Damian was indeed the youngest tenant in this apartment building all the other tenants were around Mr. Hanes age bracket. They all lived here from the start and recalled the grand opening of the building telling Damian their memories of how beautiful it was. But not once faulting the age and state of the building currently just stating the time was never kind to either them or the building itself. Damian had grown attached to all the other tenants feeling like they were all one big family but he knew that was only fake as none of them knew his secret expect one elderly woman that lived on the third floor which was one floor under him. Mr. Hanes held his index finger up as if telling Damian to stay still for minute as he scurried over to his desk and pulled out an apple and handed it to Damian “Don’t forget to eat lunch okay, this is a gift for helping fix Mrs. Black’s radiator I really appreciate the help you give us old timers. You’re such a good boy, why couldn’t you have been my son?” Mr. Hanes joked Damian couldn’t help but smile as he took the apple in his hand and tucking it into his jacket pocket. “See you later tonight ‘Dad’” Damian joked as he headed to the entrance of the building.
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Old 11-18-2017, 05:06 AM   #3 (permalink)
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Chapter 3 – Bitter Wind

As Damian exited the building he was greeted with a sudden gust of cold and wet winter wind that was rather bitter sweet. The pain of something other then his tattoos was always a bonus yet now he could help but to begin to shiver. How had he forgot that it was winter he stood still as the windy continue to whip around him hitting any visible bare skin he momentarily turned around and looked at the apartment building his eyes slowly glancing up to the fourth floor where his room was located. He began to contemplate if he wanted to go back inside to retrieve a hat and scarf but he reluctantly let out a sigh, his warm breath turned into fog in the cold. He opted out of going back inside he figured if he kept on walking maybe his body would naturally start to warm up and the parlor wasn’t all that far away.

The parlor could be located in physical alleyway but patrons had to make sure that before entering the alleyway that was used to actually enter the parlor that no muggles were around. To actually access the that alley, one would cast a spell that shifted them into a parallel alley that was located in what appeared to be a secondary dimension Damian was never actually sure and thought it best not to ask. All that he knew is this alleyway was actually dangerous for non-patrons of The Blue Door Tattoo Parlor, dangerous to those that paid ill will to the manor and muggles. The alley would actually trap those individuals and slowly but surely turn into a maze, of course the owner of the Parlor did a bi-weekly sweep through the alley and released any muggles trapped inside before making sure to wipe their memories first. Those that indeed have ill will were doomed to wander the maze to driven insane, once their sanity was gone they would be released knowing no one would ever take them seriously again. Damian thought this was rather inhumane of the owner to do but he didn’t question it as he feared being trapped himself, and would rather take a hard pass on that.

Thankfully the area in which he lived in wasn’t all that populated a lot of the surrounding buildings around his apartment building were abandoned. The streets were littered with building as old and in disarrayed as his home, and unlike his home were condemned. Parked by the curb of the sidewalks were abandoned cars, some were filled with trash some where empty and some had people living in them yet all of them had absolutely no tires on them. He walked down the empty sidewalk heading to a alleyway a couple of blocks away from his apartment just to be safe.

He found himself down a deserted alleyway the only residents of the alley were tipped over trash cans that were wearing a vest of rust, a flakey rust that was orange in red in color. Damian examined both exits of the alley remaining silent as to hear is there were any passerby’s that might witness him, there was an eerie silence that hung through the alley this silence let him know that the coast was clear. He pulled out his wand from is pocket, he pointed it at the stone side of the building that help fund the alleyway with a flick of his wrist gray smoke started to ooze out of the tip of the wand as he began to draw a circle on the wall. The smoke left a gray ring before it pulsed a black and blue, the ring began to expand around Damian and the alley.

The alley grew black as if someone snuffed out a candle extinguishing the light, the sun being the metaphorical candle. The darkness began to fade and he found himself in a very familiar place a place he recognized the narrow stone washed and weathered alleyway that lead to The Blue Door Tattoo Parlor. Currently the alley was empty this was part of the trap the door itself is always right beside them, the door would only appear under certain situations but Damian being a returning patron knew the simplest trick as to make the door reappear. He extended his hand out spreading his fingers out the palm of his hand facing outwards he continuing reaching out until something hard stopped him.

He knew this hard surface was the door to the parlor itself, his extended hand now turned into a fist he started to knock on the hard surface of the invisible door. Once he started to knock on the door the door suddenly came into view the blue door stood out almost blinding compared to the colorless backdrop of the stones around it. Reaching for the door knob he twisted it and began to open it slowly upon the other side of the door was the parlor he had called his secondary home. Ironically though the parlor was called The Blue Door Tattoo Parlor the insides were no way following the same color scheme as its name sake. The insides fashioned warm colors like brown, red, and gold, giving it almost a vintage-steampunk interior design to it. The walls lined with designs of previously created tattoo designs, some were plain designs and some of them were charms manifested in the forms of tattoos. Those tattoos had descriptions written under them telling the consumers what properties they gave.

As he entered a thin skeletal man sitting behind a dark oak J-shaped counter holding a magazine stared towards him. This man was the receptionist of the Parlor his purpose Damian was never sure of it wasn’t exactly like people could come in and make an appointment. If they did he wouldn’t be the face you would want to see, he was very shaggy and unkept looking. Damian wasn’t a vain person but sometimes looking at the receptionist he would wish he would take at least some time to cleanup a tiny bit. Vincent was his name and he fashioned a fauxhawk, the sides of his head were buzzed short but it wasn’t even in the least bit and on top of his head the ‘hawk’ part was black and oiling looking as it laid down past on his eyes. Even Vincent’s face looked oily but his face was also covered in many piercing two were fashioned on his left eyebrow and one on his right eyebrow and one was secured on his lip. After looking up to see Damian his eyes drifted back down to his magazine as he bit his lower lip slightly.

“And here I thought someone interesting found the parlor…” Vincent said under his breathe as he flipped through his magazine paying no mind to Damian. Damian heard him completely as he walked to the desk, “And here I thought the owner would hire someone good looking to greet the customers, not someone that would make them run back into the alley” he rebutted back seeing if they would force a response back from Vincent. Vincent looked at him his brows clenched together his face displeased “Who asked for your opinion you useless stray.” Vincent and himself have always acted this way since the day they met it was normal so the others within the parlor never tired to intervene. But from some outsiders prospective they seemed like enemies but they were actually pretty chill in all honesty “so is there any new job postings?” he asked Vincent. “I think a few came in today but I can’t be positive” he said as he went back to his magazine.
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