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The distribution of this story is for personal use only. Any other form of distribution is prohibited without the consent of the author.
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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 Predators’ 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 teach them the error of their ways."
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. Author’s Notes: My thanks to Jelsemium,
my wonderful co-writer! Check out her stories, available at the Sugarquill
Library and ff.net! "Squib Summer" (which has eight chapters, plus
prologue & epilogue) is the last story that I have completed. Sadly, I’ve
got writers block at the moment. And part of me wants to wait for OoP to come
out before I write any more stories, so I can see how far I’ve strayed from
canon... Notes for ‘Squib Apprentice’: Cristalfairy: Thank you for reviewing!
Hagrid is one of my favorite characters too. I love writing Remus but haven’t
had another good story idea for him yet. Mr. Roberts III: Thank you for reviewing!
Going to the pub is a social activity that Hagrid enjoys. And he is supervised.
When he’s bit older, I suspect that Dumbledore may take him traveling to broaden
his horizons. Murasaki99: Thank you for reviewing! Sending the boys home early
was Pringle’s idea; the old grump didn’t expect them to leave the road "and
go looking for trouble" as he would put it. Now he and Ogg will not allow
their apprentices to wander about on their own. (Neither groundskeeper nor
caretaker are especially powerful wizards on their own, but they’ve had practice
at combining their magic and both of them are fierce fighters.) I love the
idea of Argus being looked after by a dynasty of Norrises! Ara Kane: Thank
you for reviewing! Poor Hagrid. He still has a tendency to drink too much when
things are upsetting him, and Dumbledore still looks after him. I always enjoy
how Rowling writes the friendship between Dumbledore and Hagrid. The Good Doctor
Monaco & Whiskers: Thank you for reviewing! The three murder victims were
fighting against Grindelwald. They were killed by him and/or his followers.
Dumbledore probably knows who they are, but Filch and Hagrid may never find
out their names. Sheila, my cat is an indoor cat. One of my kids put her out
in the snow for a few moments to see what she would do. Sheila looked offended
that such a thing as snow exists. Pogonia: Thank you for reviewing! Yes, poor
Filch is dense. And he’s reluctant to trust and slow to get over things that
have hurt him. In most respects he’s Hagrid’s opposite, which makes writing
about the two of them together so much fun. Thank you for recommending "And
the Hat Said ‘Gryffindor!’" Great story!! (I came, I read, I reviewed...)
Dumbledore is warm and compassionate as well as twinkly. His treatment of Filch
in CoS impressed me. I believe that he’s fond of Filch and respects him. I
like the idea of Filch being one of Dumbledore’s proteges. I’d love to write
a Filch and Snape backstory, but I haven’t haven’t gotten any ideas to flow
for me yet. Maybe OoP will reveal some more about Snape’s past? I hope so.
Sabre: Thank you for reviewing! My impression of Filch is that he’s braver
than he thinks he is. He searched the dungeons in PoA, apparently on his own,
when Sirius Black could have been hiding down there. As far as anyone knew,
Sirius was insane. What chance would a Squib have had against him? But Filch
did his job, and no one seemed to doubt that he could. Here’s the story with
Filch and Harry in London... Kazza: Thank you for reviewing! Young Hagrid,
Ogg, Pringle and Filch were fun to write. Jestana: Thank you for reviewing!
Filch wouldn’t want to be considered a typical example of Hufflepuff courage.
He’d point to Cedric Diggory instead. "He was as brave and noble as any
Gryffindor, with a lot more common sense. Poor lad." Sreya: Thank you
for reviewing! I’m glad that you enjoyed young Filch and young Hagrid. They
were fun to write! Lilac: Thank you for reviewing! Filch didn’t think about
the implications of saving Hagrid, he didn’t consider himself a wizard. It’s
possible that he’s even unaware of wizard’s debts at this point in time. Hagrid
never realized how close he came to dying, he wasn’t thinking about the danger
to himself. (Hagrid does rescue Filch from Lucius Malfoy in the Forbidden Forest
many years later, which could be considered a repayment of the debt.)
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