Squib Summer
a Harry Potter fan-fic,
by Ozma and Jelsemium
a sequel to Ozma's Squib Caretaker
Harry Potter and all recognizable characters are owned by J. K. Rowling
and are used without permission or intent to make a profit.
The less recognizable characters: The Grey Stalker, the Harpy, The
Caoimhe Bean-Sidhe (Cavvy Banshee), Gormghlaith Mac Gabhann (Gor-em-lee
Mac Gavin) and the Bookwyrm were created by Jill Weber (Jelsemium) and
are used as shameless self promotions ala Gilderoy Lockhart.
Prologue One: The Predator's Party
The Sphinx sipped daintily on her Crème de Menthe as she surveyed the
occupants of the human pub known as the Leaky Cauldron. Long ago,
gatherings like this had provided her with amusement and sustenance.
Then humans had started getting fussy about being eaten if they lost a
riddle contest. So now all she got here were drinks and the occasional
floor show when some Muggle-born's parents realized what she was. She
smiled to herself and stroked the breast of her kestrel. Tom the
Bartender wasn't happy about letting her come in, even with assurances
that she wasn't here for food. However, even Tom wasn't likely to argue
with her patron.
*******
The Harpy settled herself into a corner and tried to be inconspicuous.
She knew that the Sphinx wasn't hungry; knew that because she knew the
Sphinx's patron did not permit such things. However, the Sphinx was
still part feline and the Harpy was part avian and the two species would
never mingle comfortably. Maybe it was time to go. She would have left
except that she was hungry and the Leaky Cauldron had the best
shepherd's pie in England… even if they weren't made with real
shepherds.
*******
Nagini was hungry. Her master would not let her feed properly. "The time
has not yet come, my pet," he hissed. "We'll show those fools not to
take us lightly. Until then, I need you to lay low. Even eating Muggles
might draw too much attention to us, and I am not ready for a direct
confrontation. Nor can I afford to let you have any of my death eaters."
He'd smiled after that. "Although, if certain of them don't get in line…
well, some have more than one child. Losing one or two of the extras
might bring them in line."
She had to be satisfied with that for the moment, so she was forced to
make do with something else. Her errand for her master permitted her to
go to Nocturne Alley, which was close enough for her to slip over to the
Leaky Cauldron. She couldn't eat any of the patrons, but she could sneak
into the cellar to capture a few rats and steal a bottle or two of wine.
*******
Caoimhe was on the prowl. Gliding invisibly down Diagon Alley in search
of Gormghlaith Mac Gabhann, last of the Colla Mac Gabhann clan. The
woman didn't know that she was all alone in the world.
However, she would as soon as the Bean-Sidhe fulfilled her duties. The
mortal cow was being difficult, however. The Bean-Sidhe had no idea what
the woman did for a living, but it apparently involved apparating hither
and yon like a bloody will-o-the-wisp. The Bean-Sidhe gnashed her teeth
as she sensed her target apparating out of Diagon Alley and apparently
out of England all together.
Mortals! They had no appreciation for a hard working fairy woman's tight
schedule. The Bean-Sidhe sighed and gave up for now. She'd tell the cow
about her family soon enough. Right now, she needed a drink. She decided
to head over to the Leaky Cauldron for a good stiff shot of whiskey.
Bartenders were the only mortals she could bear to deal with, anyway.
********
Tom the Bartender sighed as he polished the spotless bar top with an
equally spotless towel. The bar was going to lose money today, the
longer certain patrons stayed on, the more they would lose. Very few
wizards cared to spend time drinking and rendering themselves helpless
in the presence of predators; particularly predators of the
anthropophagus variety.
"Tom! Another Crème de Menthe, if you please." 'Or even if you don't
please,' ran the subtext. The speaker, a leonine female sitting boldly
in the middle of the bar like Sphinxes commonly mingled with mortals,
smiled. "Don't look so grim, Tom. The times, they change whether we wish
them to or not."
"Yes, ma'am," Tom replied in Basic Bartender Neutral Tones.
"Maybe I could cheer you up a bit. Would you care to hear a riddle? I've
got a new one off the Bookwyrm not a fortnight ago."
"No, thank you, ma'am," Tom said in long suffering tones.
The Sphinx chortled in her drink and pulled some parchment out from the
pouch around her neck. She knew her Patron WOULD enjoy this riddle. So,
she might as well make use of her new kestrel to send it to him.
Tom shot a glance to the back corner. 'At least the Harpy was making an
attempt to be inconspicuous,' he thought. 'Of course, the Harpy didn't
have the backing of such a powerful wizard, either.' He was glad when
the Harpy's order came up, though. Quiet and relatively clean as the
bird woman was today, she still made him nervous.
"Here is your shepherd's pie, ma'am," he said politely. "Will you be
having anything else?"
"Yes, my good man," the Harpy rasped. Her eyes glittered as if with a
private joke. "I'll have some blood pudding to follow and another
Guinness Stout, please."
"Yes, ma'am," Tom said with a slight nod as he moved to fill her order.
He looked around to see if there was anybody else in need of service. He
sighed when a green skinned woman swept through the wall.
"Tom! A whiskey and soda to wet my whistle. Be quick, I need something
to calm meself down after a rough day. Honestly, working with mortals is
enough to make me scream!" said the Bean-Sidhe.
'Oh, goody,' Tom thought. 'What else could go wrong?'
It was the wrong thing to even think. However, Tom wasn't the one who
was going to pay for tempting fate like that.
Prologue 2: The Boy Who Would Rather Be Anywhere Else
"I don't want him to go," whined Dudley. "He always spoils everything."
Actually, the grossly overweight teen was afraid that his cousin would
make fun of him when he tried on clothes. He knew he'd make fun of
Harry, if his Mum would ever be stupid enough to waste money on new
clothes for his abnormal cousin.
"Now, Dinky Duddy-ums," his mother cooed. "You know we have to get you a
nice suit for this wedding. Daddy's new boss is getting married and you
want to look nice, don't you?" She patted his shoulder anxiously.
Harry Potter, sitting just out of her peripheral vision, smirked at
Dudley. Harry didn't consider himself to be much to look at, especially
with the scar, but at least he didn't need to get a custom fitted circus
tent.
Dudley scowled. He wished his mother would stop speaking to him as if he
were three years old. He wished that Potter would drop dead or
something. And he really didn't want to go to some swanky shop where the
hired help, and Potter, would smirk at him while he tried on clothes.
Petunia couldn't see Harry, but she could see Dudley's expression easily
enough. Without turning around, she said, "Wipe that smirk off your
face, Potter. You're coming with us, but don't expect to lollygag around
in the shop. I'll not have decent people exposed to you."
Harry sighed. "Yes, Aunt Petunia," he said with as much meekness as he
could muster. It apparently wasn't enough, because Petunia boxed his
ears as she passed.
Dudley smirked as he 'accidentally' knocked into Harry and bounced him
off the wall.
"The taxi's here. Come along then, and no funny stuff! You'll get no
lunch if you don't behave yourself."
Harry sighed. He hadn't had any breakfast, since Aunt Petunia wouldn't
let him eat until his chores were done. Then she'd insisted that he
change into his least disreputable set of clothing. Now he knew why.
Uncle Vernon had been bitterly complaining about the cost of taxis, but
taking Dudley on the tube or a bus was just asking for trouble.
Harry managed to squeeze himself into the back seat with Dudley while
his aunt sat up front with the driver. "Behave yourself or you'll walk
home," Petunia snapped.
Harry sighed again. It was going to be a bad day. If he'd had a real
idea of how bad, he probably would have thrown himself out of the taxi
right then. It would have saved him some time and the end results would
have been much the same.
******
Outside the Leaky Cauldron, in Muggle London, a grey clad female stalked
the streets. She was close to starvation, but she did not enter the
Leaky Cauldron, nor did she approach the Muggle food sellers. They would
do her no good, for she did not eat solid food. She licked her lips and
ran her tongue along the special tooth that ran along her upper palate.
The venom sac was almost painfully full, it had been so long since she'd
had a chance to use it.
She dared not go into the Leaky Cauldron in search of prey. There was
food in there, but all the magic was locked up inside wizarding folk who
could defend themselves. Today there were even other Predators, and the
Grey Stalker did not care to tangle with such. Like many predators, she
preferred to target the young. Children's magic was especially easy for
her to feed on, and they didn't have the control to fend her off. Magic
children with non-magical parents were the most vulnerable, which is why
she haunted the streets just outside of the entrance to Diagon Alley,
waiting for the unwary and the unlucky…
To Be Continued...
a Harry Potter fan-fic,
by Ozma and Jelsemium
a sequel to Ozma's Squib Caretaker
Harry Potter and all recognizable characters are owned by J. K. Rowling
and are used without permission or intent to make a profit.
The less recognizable characters: The Grey Stalker, the Harpy, The
Caoimhe Bean-Sidhe (Cavvy Banshee), Gormghlaith Mac Gabhann (Gor-em-lee
Mac Gavin) and the Bookwyrm were created by Jill Weber (Jelsemium) and
are used as shameless self promotions ala Gilderoy Lockhart.
Prologue One: The Predator's Party
The Sphinx sipped daintily on her Crème de Menthe as she surveyed the
occupants of the human pub known as the Leaky Cauldron. Long ago,
gatherings like this had provided her with amusement and sustenance.
Then humans had started getting fussy about being eaten if they lost a
riddle contest. So now all she got here were drinks and the occasional
floor show when some Muggle-born's parents realized what she was. She
smiled to herself and stroked the breast of her kestrel. Tom the
Bartender wasn't happy about letting her come in, even with assurances
that she wasn't here for food. However, even Tom wasn't likely to argue
with her patron.
*******
The Harpy settled herself into a corner and tried to be inconspicuous.
She knew that the Sphinx wasn't hungry; knew that because she knew the
Sphinx's patron did not permit such things. However, the Sphinx was
still part feline and the Harpy was part avian and the two species would
never mingle comfortably. Maybe it was time to go. She would have left
except that she was hungry and the Leaky Cauldron had the best
shepherd's pie in England… even if they weren't made with real
shepherds.
*******
Nagini was hungry. Her master would not let her feed properly. "The time
has not yet come, my pet," he hissed. "We'll show those fools not to
take us lightly. Until then, I need you to lay low. Even eating Muggles
might draw too much attention to us, and I am not ready for a direct
confrontation. Nor can I afford to let you have any of my death eaters."
He'd smiled after that. "Although, if certain of them don't get in line…
well, some have more than one child. Losing one or two of the extras
might bring them in line."
She had to be satisfied with that for the moment, so she was forced to
make do with something else. Her errand for her master permitted her to
go to Nocturne Alley, which was close enough for her to slip over to the
Leaky Cauldron. She couldn't eat any of the patrons, but she could sneak
into the cellar to capture a few rats and steal a bottle or two of wine.
*******
Caoimhe was on the prowl. Gliding invisibly down Diagon Alley in search
of Gormghlaith Mac Gabhann, last of the Colla Mac Gabhann clan. The
woman didn't know that she was all alone in the world.
However, she would as soon as the Bean-Sidhe fulfilled her duties. The
mortal cow was being difficult, however. The Bean-Sidhe had no idea what
the woman did for a living, but it apparently involved apparating hither
and yon like a bloody will-o-the-wisp. The Bean-Sidhe gnashed her teeth
as she sensed her target apparating out of Diagon Alley and apparently
out of England all together.
Mortals! They had no appreciation for a hard working fairy woman's tight
schedule. The Bean-Sidhe sighed and gave up for now. She'd tell the cow
about her family soon enough. Right now, she needed a drink. She decided
to head over to the Leaky Cauldron for a good stiff shot of whiskey.
Bartenders were the only mortals she could bear to deal with, anyway.
********
Tom the Bartender sighed as he polished the spotless bar top with an
equally spotless towel. The bar was going to lose money today, the
longer certain patrons stayed on, the more they would lose. Very few
wizards cared to spend time drinking and rendering themselves helpless
in the presence of predators; particularly predators of the
anthropophagus variety.
"Tom! Another Crème de Menthe, if you please." 'Or even if you don't
please,' ran the subtext. The speaker, a leonine female sitting boldly
in the middle of the bar like Sphinxes commonly mingled with mortals,
smiled. "Don't look so grim, Tom. The times, they change whether we wish
them to or not."
"Yes, ma'am," Tom replied in Basic Bartender Neutral Tones.
"Maybe I could cheer you up a bit. Would you care to hear a riddle? I've
got a new one off the Bookwyrm not a fortnight ago."
"No, thank you, ma'am," Tom said in long suffering tones.
The Sphinx chortled in her drink and pulled some parchment out from the
pouch around her neck. She knew her Patron WOULD enjoy this riddle. So,
she might as well make use of her new kestrel to send it to him.
Tom shot a glance to the back corner. 'At least the Harpy was making an
attempt to be inconspicuous,' he thought. 'Of course, the Harpy didn't
have the backing of such a powerful wizard, either.' He was glad when
the Harpy's order came up, though. Quiet and relatively clean as the
bird woman was today, she still made him nervous.
"Here is your shepherd's pie, ma'am," he said politely. "Will you be
having anything else?"
"Yes, my good man," the Harpy rasped. Her eyes glittered as if with a
private joke. "I'll have some blood pudding to follow and another
Guinness Stout, please."
"Yes, ma'am," Tom said with a slight nod as he moved to fill her order.
He looked around to see if there was anybody else in need of service. He
sighed when a green skinned woman swept through the wall.
"Tom! A whiskey and soda to wet my whistle. Be quick, I need something
to calm meself down after a rough day. Honestly, working with mortals is
enough to make me scream!" said the Bean-Sidhe.
'Oh, goody,' Tom thought. 'What else could go wrong?'
It was the wrong thing to even think. However, Tom wasn't the one who
was going to pay for tempting fate like that.
Prologue 2: The Boy Who Would Rather Be Anywhere Else
"I don't want him to go," whined Dudley. "He always spoils everything."
Actually, the grossly overweight teen was afraid that his cousin would
make fun of him when he tried on clothes. He knew he'd make fun of
Harry, if his Mum would ever be stupid enough to waste money on new
clothes for his abnormal cousin.
"Now, Dinky Duddy-ums," his mother cooed. "You know we have to get you a
nice suit for this wedding. Daddy's new boss is getting married and you
want to look nice, don't you?" She patted his shoulder anxiously.
Harry Potter, sitting just out of her peripheral vision, smirked at
Dudley. Harry didn't consider himself to be much to look at, especially
with the scar, but at least he didn't need to get a custom fitted circus
tent.
Dudley scowled. He wished his mother would stop speaking to him as if he
were three years old. He wished that Potter would drop dead or
something. And he really didn't want to go to some swanky shop where the
hired help, and Potter, would smirk at him while he tried on clothes.
Petunia couldn't see Harry, but she could see Dudley's expression easily
enough. Without turning around, she said, "Wipe that smirk off your
face, Potter. You're coming with us, but don't expect to lollygag around
in the shop. I'll not have decent people exposed to you."
Harry sighed. "Yes, Aunt Petunia," he said with as much meekness as he
could muster. It apparently wasn't enough, because Petunia boxed his
ears as she passed.
Dudley smirked as he 'accidentally' knocked into Harry and bounced him
off the wall.
"The taxi's here. Come along then, and no funny stuff! You'll get no
lunch if you don't behave yourself."
Harry sighed. He hadn't had any breakfast, since Aunt Petunia wouldn't
let him eat until his chores were done. Then she'd insisted that he
change into his least disreputable set of clothing. Now he knew why.
Uncle Vernon had been bitterly complaining about the cost of taxis, but
taking Dudley on the tube or a bus was just asking for trouble.
Harry managed to squeeze himself into the back seat with Dudley while
his aunt sat up front with the driver. "Behave yourself or you'll walk
home," Petunia snapped.
Harry sighed again. It was going to be a bad day. If he'd had a real
idea of how bad, he probably would have thrown himself out of the taxi
right then. It would have saved him some time and the end results would
have been much the same.
******
Outside the Leaky Cauldron, in Muggle London, a grey clad female stalked
the streets. She was close to starvation, but she did not enter the
Leaky Cauldron, nor did she approach the Muggle food sellers. They would
do her no good, for she did not eat solid food. She licked her lips and
ran her tongue along the special tooth that ran along her upper palate.
The venom sac was almost painfully full, it had been so long since she'd
had a chance to use it.
She dared not go into the Leaky Cauldron in search of prey. There was
food in there, but all the magic was locked up inside wizarding folk who
could defend themselves. Today there were even other Predators, and the
Grey Stalker did not care to tangle with such. Like many predators, she
preferred to target the young. Children's magic was especially easy for
her to feed on, and they didn't have the control to fend her off. Magic
children with non-magical parents were the most vulnerable, which is why
she haunted the streets just outside of the entrance to Diagon Alley,
waiting for the unwary and the unlucky…
To Be Continued...