The Sugar Quill
Author: Coronodo  Story: Cows, Roosters and Very Big Pumpkins  Chapter: Default
The distribution of this story is for personal use only. Any other form of distribution is prohibited without the consent of the author.

Dennis Creevey first made the Announcement to Ginny Weasley, Honorary Big Sister.

“I am going trick-or-treating this Halloween,” he told her, “and you are making the costume.”

“Where are you going trick-or-treating?” Ginny asked.

Dennis thought it over, and replied with, “The Common Room. I will simply… put on my costume and wander around asking for candy!”

Although Ginny didn’t find his plan particularly brilliant, she agreed to make the costume. It was a Brave Endeavor, she noted, to spent so many hours making a costume for her Honorary Little Brother that would only be used for a couple hours. But Brave Endeavors were Ginny Weasley’s specialty, and on Halloween Day, Dennis was presented with his very own pumpkin costume.

“This is a wonderful pumpkin costume,” Dennis said, wrapping Ginny in his arms. “Thank you.”

Ginny slipped out of the room, leaving Dennis to admire his pumpkin costume.

And admire it he did, during a particularly boring Transfiguration class, Charms and a Potions class. After an uneventful (and extremely long) Halloween Feast, Dennis rushed to his dorm room to change into his costume. After he changed, he slipped into the bathroom to hide from his fellow Gryffindors.

During his internal discussion on whether to hide for ten or twenty minutes (if he hid for ten minutes, not everyone would be in the common room, but if he hid for twenty minutes, all the candy might already be eaten when he got there) he heard a coughing noise from the farthest stall.

“Someone has a Very Big Secret,” he whispered, coughing in reply. The person squeaked, and opened the door to their stall. “Who squeaks?” Dennis asked.

The person muttered a name, and opened the bathroom door to leave. Dennis hopped off his toilet and opened the door. “Stop!” he said, wriggling his pumpkin-body out of the stall.

“Dennis?” It said. In the corner was standing…

A bunny?

“Who are you?” Dennis whispered, stepping closer. There was a slot in the face so the person inside could see through, and dangling out of it there were wisps of red hair.

“Who do I know that has red hair?” Dennis asked himself. He considered it for a moment, but then the person spoke.

“I’m Ron, you twit!” Ron ripped off his bunny-head and stood before him. “I was just going trick-or-treating. It’s been a while since I have, you know…”

“That’s great!” Dennis shouted, a little loudly, and a little too squeaky. Darn puberty. “I’m going trick-or-treating too. Do you want to come with me?”

Ron looked at Dennis. “I don’t know. You’re Ginny’s Honorary Little Brother… Does that make you my Honorary Little Brother, too?”

Dennis nodded. He thought it did.

“Well, if you’re my Honorary Little Brother…”

Dennis crossed his fingers.

“I suppose I wouldn’t mind if you… followed me around.” Ron sighed. “If you want to go, let’s go.”

The pumpkin and the bunny exited the bathroom, looked around the corner, and ran.

~*~

“Who first?” Dennis asked Ron, wringing his hands. Dozens of people, all looking as if they would be equally pleased at the prospect of giving candy to a pumpkin and a bunny.

“Who has the most candy?” Ron pointed at Fred and George, who easily had the largest pile in the room.

Dennis stepped back. “No. I don’t want to turn into a—a newt—or something!”

“You’ll get better,” Ron said.

“You don’t know what they’ve done with the candy.” His eyes widened. “It could be poisonous.”

Ron laughed, and ruffled Dennis’ stem. “They aren’t poisonous. Do you really think my brothers would poison candy?”

“Well…” Dennis sighed, “All right. But if I die, tell my mum I—I love her.”

“You aren’t going to die,” Ron said, and headed over to Fred and George’s table.

“Wait up!” Dennis squealed. “I have to be present for my death!”

Fred and George wouldn’t do anything like that, would they? They did look awfully surprised when a bunny tapped on George’s shoulder and grabbed their stack of candy.

“That’s not trick-or-treating,” Dennis protested. “That’s stealing, and you should take it back.”

“Don’t be a git,” Ron said. “Just eat it.”

“I’m serious, Ron, if I die—“

Ron laughed, “You won’t. Eat.”

Dennis stared at Ron while he slipped the first chocolate into his mouth. “You get to watch me die.”

Instead of dying, Dennis turned into a large rooster, and thrashed around in his pumpkin.

He tried to say, “Help me, it’s quite cramped in here,” but it unfortunately came out as “Squawk, squawk, squawk, squawk!” Quite suddenly, he attracted the attention of all the Common Room. Fred and George, who had previously been planning to attack the giant pumpkin, now decided to sit back and laugh at the giant squawking pumpkin-turkey.

Dennis squawked and sat down dejectedly on the bunny… Ron, he reminded himself… who was sitting in a chair, watching this tragedy.

“That’s what this is. A Tragedy. My Tragedy,” Dennis sighed, which sounded like “Squaaawkedy…”

“Hoorah!” Dennis cheered. “I am becoming a human again.”

He was promptly reminded of this fact when he was kicked in the shins.

“Turkey,” George said, “I want my candy.”

“I’m not a turkey anymore,” Dennis announced. “I no longer have a Tragedy on my hands. In fact, I am ready to go and flaunt my non-turkey-ness to the crowd.”

“When you’re done, will you please give me back my candy?”

Ron walked in front of Dennis. “I took the candy.”

“Hi, bunny,” Fred said. “May I have my candy?”

“Half of it,” Ron said, and handed several handfuls to George. “Now get along now, I’m going to eat it.”

George glared at the bunny. “I don’t know who you are, bastard bunny, but you can have my candy.” He laughed evilly. “Have fun.”

Dennis’ eyes widened. “Ron!” he whispered. “You’re going to get us killed.”

Ron grabbed Dennis and dragged the pumpkin out of the Common Room. He stuffed him through the portrait hole, and hopped out after him.

“No, we’re going to feed them to Mrs. Norris.”

Dennis stopped in his tracks. “Ron, please, I don’t want to get expelled.”

“You won’t, pumpkin-boy.”

Suddenly, Dennis felt a surge of self-empowerment drive through his bones. “I’ll do it,” he said, rushing beside Ron. “I will teeter on the edge of danger, I will cross the line between perfect and bad boy, I will…”

“Dennis?”

“Yes, Ron, my danger-defying friend?”

“Shut up.”

“Oh.”

They went back into the common room, and in a large corner of the room that was quite dark. There was a couple minutes of silence, before Dennis finally said, “Look, Ron, I’d love to defy danger, but where is Mrs. Norris?” He sighed. “I’d really rather not wander around Gryffindor Tower all night.”

“Shh. She’s right here.”

“How do you know that? It’s pitch black here. I can’t see my hand in front of my face.”

Lumos,” Ron whispered. “That good enough? Look, there she is.”

A pair of twinkling eyes looked at the two. She purred, and then turned to leave.

“She’s going to leave,” Dennis whispered.

“No, she won’t,” Ron said, and laid a candy on the ground. “Here, kitty.” Mrs. Norris slowly turned her head. “Eat the candy, kitty.”

Dennis didn’t know how he’d feel if he were a poor, innocent kitty—actually, he doubted Mrs. Norris’ innocence—and some wacko in a bunny suit came up and fed him some funny sweet stuff. But apparently Mrs. Norris didn’t mind, because she ate the candy and promptly turned into a cow.

A one-foot high cow.

“How adorable!” Ron exclaimed, picking up the cow and carrying him out to the crowd. Squeals came from the girls, and the boys just looked at it.

“Can we turn her back?” Dennis asked, petting the mini cow.

George, hearing Dennis’ question, stood up and took the cow. He stroked her back and whispered in her ear. “No,” he said, to Dennis. “I’m assuming this was an animal?”

Ron bowed his head. “Yes, it was.”

Fred laughed. “Tough luck, mate. This is a baby cow for life.”

“I’ll adopt it,” Dennis said.

Three heads turned to him. “You’ll what?” Ron asked.

“I’ll keep it in my room.”

“That’s great, pumpkin-boy,” George said, “but I doubt whoever owns that animal is going to be too happy about their—cow—being owned by someone else.”

“It’s Mrs. Norris,” Ron said.

“Oh. In that case, take it,” Fred grinned.

~*~

Argus Filch eventually quit, and Mrs. Norris was never “recovered”, but the mysterious Halloween boys raided the Gryffindor Common Room every Halloween for the rest of their years. Their identities were never known.

 

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