The Sugar Quill
Author: Pink Sunflower  Story: Through the Camera Lens  Chapter: Chapter Two- A Mysterious Visitor
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A mysterious visitor.



As Barbara Creevey took the letter off the table, finally having the presence of mind to react in some way to this extraordinary turn of events, there was a knock at the door.
Trying to shake off the sudden dazed feeling that had overcome her, Barbara moved as though in a dream to the front door, the letter still in her hand.


‘Good morning Mrs. Creevey.’ A tiny, squeaky-voiced man stood at the door. Barbara looked down on him; he barely reached her shoulder and she was only short herself.


‘Erm, good morning,’ Barbara replied, slightly flustered that this tiny strange man knew her name.


‘Oh, goodness, how rude of me!’ The man noticed her bewilderment and swept a black top hat off his head with a flourish. ‘Professor Filius Flitwick…I believe you have received our letter? Oh, excellent, you have,’ he corrected himself, noticing the parchment in her hand.


‘Ahh…’ Barbara said incoherently, still blinking. Suddenly she shook her head and recovered her composure.

‘Would you like to come in, Professor?’


Flitwick smiled.

‘Thankyou, my dear lady.’ Without further ado, he followed her into the house.


Colin was still in the kitchen, the same shining look in his eyes, but he was now looking at the table where the letter had been. When Barbara and Flitwick walked into the room, Colin’s head lifted and he looked square at the Professor.


‘You must be Colin Creevey, am I right?’ Flitwick asked, beaming.


‘Yes. Who are you and what can you tell me about Hogwarts please, sir?’ Colin asked, respect in his voice but at the same time, desperation to know anything he could find out.


‘My name is Professor Filius Flitwick, though you may call me Professor or Sir to my face and anything you like behind your back!’ At this, Flitwick chuckled, finding his own joke a cause for hilarity.


‘Sit down, Professor. May I offer you tea or coffee, or…’ Barbara trailed off, realising she still had not read the letter and had no idea what the Professor taught or what he drank.


‘Thankyou, but no. I’ve never been a fan of Muggle drinks.’ Flitwick chuckled again.


Colin blinked and looked at his brother, who had been sitting, frozen, his mouth dropping open in a perfectly round ‘O’ since the tiny man walked in.

Suddenly Dennis stood, and walked slowly around to where Flitwick stood. Standing next to him, Dennis giggled as he realised that he was almost the same height as their visitor. In the next second, however, he had snapped his mouth shut and returned to his seat, embarrassed.


‘I’m sorry, Professor, but I’m afraid I haven’t even read this letter yet…’ Barbara Creevey remembered the parchment, still in her hand.


Flitwick waved a hand airily.  
‘That doesn’t matter in the slightest. Would you allow me to explain the contents of the letter, and everything else? It may take a while but I believe it is absolutely necessary that you understand why I have come here today.’


Colin nodded, his head bobbing up and down so fast that his glasses slipped off his nose. Barbara consented and soon the four of them were sitting around the table, three pairs of eyes locked on Flitwick as he wondered where to begin.


‘Merlin, this never gets easier…’ he thought as he took a breath.

‘You may find this hard to believe…but you, Colin, are a wizard.’


‘Wizard, as in…?’ Barbara looked sceptical. No, sceptical was the wrong word. Totally disbelieving would be more appropriate.


‘You are correct in your thinking. As in, Merlin, magic wands, changing tables into pigs, making things fly across the room, broomsticks magic.’


It does get a little tiring after a while…


‘Magic?’ Colin asked. He sounded slightly hesitant but at the same time, very hopeful.


‘Yes, dear boy, magic.’ With this, Flitwick pulled his wand out his back pocket with a flourish. Barbara looked apprehensive. Colin was still in awe. Dennis was quietly wondering if he was dreaming, not unlike his brother’s thoughts such a short time ago.


Flitwick shot a quick glance at each of the Creeveys in turn, to ensure that he wasn’t about to provoke a heart attack, then with a muttered charm levitated the breakfast table into the air. Barbara shrieked and flapped her tea towel. Colin had stood, he wasn’t sure why, but he now stood directly in front of Flitwick.


‘You have questions, dear boy. Of course. But first let me finish the explanation. I assume you will believe me that magic does indeed exist?’


Colin nodded; his head bobbing up and down so fast it was blurred. Flitwick looked, however, at Barbara, who gave a faint nod, still staring at the table which had by now floated gently back to the ground.


‘Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was founded over a thousand years ago  by four powerful sorcerers (Question: Can ‘sorcerers’ be a ‘unisex’ term, or is there such a term I can use? I didn’t want to drag the sentence out too much with ‘two witches and two wizards’ but if you think it’s the easiest…) with a common goal - to educate young witches and wizards in the proper execution of magic.’ The squeaky voice had taken on a slightly rehearsed air by now, which probably meant, Barbara thought to herself, that he had given this talk many times before.


‘Each founder created a house of his or her own, into which they sorted the children which possessed the qualities each leader deemed most important. Salazar Slytherin’s house is famous for it’s determination to succeed. Godric Gryffindor took the bravest and truest of heart. Rowena Ravenclaw - the founder for whom my own house is named- took the smartest, and cleverest of students. Helga Hufflepuff took the most loyal, and all those whom the other three houses rejected.


‘We now find ourselves at the present time, having seen millions of children enter Hogwarts’ Entrance Hall and leave seven years later as young men and women ready to enter the wizarding world. Hogwarts is more than just a school, it is home to all these young people, and a place where valuable lessons are learnt, not just academically, but sportingly as well, and most importantly, it is a place where lifelong friendships are formed.’


Flitwick paused, misty eyed.  Colin took the opportunity offered by the brief respite and spoke.


‘But how does this affect me? How can I be a…’




Colin nodded, slowly this time, fearful of what the answer might be.


‘Not every student to pass through Hogwarts is from a magical family. Nearly half of our students are what we call ‘Muggle-born’, that is, their family is non-magical. A muggle is the term for someone who is not a witch or wizard. You, Colin Creevey, have never been a Muggle. Think about it. Have you ever made something happen that wasn’t normal? Strange accidents?’


Barbara gasped, remembering her reflection of less than an hour earlier.


‘Dennis’ birth! The window!’ She exclaimed, rather louder than she had intended.


Flitwick beamed.  ‘That sounds promising.’


Colin let a hopeful smile pass over his face. ‘Which house would I be in, Sir?’


‘Nobody knows that until you arrive at Hogwarts and take part in the Sorting Ceremony.’ Flitwick smiled kindly at the boy.
‘However, we teachers do like to predict who will be in our own Houses, and that is why I am here today rather than one of the other Heads of Houses. I believe that you possess the perfect qualities to be a Ravenclaw, for I believe you are very bright.’


Colin nodded slowly then looked at his mother, and Barbara, woken from her daze, was finally ready to believe that her son was anything but the normal eleven year old that she had perceived him to be.


‘What happens now, Professor Flitwick?’ she asked, sitting down at the table and turning to the tiny man.


‘Now, my dear lady, we need to prepare Colin for the start of term. This is going to be such an adventure, for your whole family.’ He glanced around the kitchen, suddenly frowning.


‘Perhaps your husband will need to be informed sooner rather than later?’ he asked and Barbara stood in a rush, clapping a hand to her mouth.


‘Good lord, of course!’ She looked around distractedly before turning to the phone and punching in her husband’s mobile phone number.  

A hurried conversation took place, and twenty minutes later found Martin Creevey scratching his balding head, still slightly puzzled as to who this strange man was and why his wife and sons were so ready to believe what he was telling them.


‘So…you’re saying…’


‘I’m a wizard, Dad! I’ve been invited to go to a school for wizards and I can do magic.’ Colin spoke this last word in a reverent whisper.


Martin looked at his family, expecting them at any moment to scream ‘April Fools!’ even though it was the end of July. When this didn’t happen, he turned to the small man, hoping for an ally. Unfortunately he didn’t find one in this strange person, who was now bobbing up and down on the balls of his feet excitedly, as though he was relishing Martin’s confusion.


‘Good sir, you no doubt have many questions about Hogwarts—’ Flitwick began, but was cut off.


‘About what?’


‘Hogwarts, Dad, it’s the name of the school!’ Colin broke in excitedly.


‘So I will answer any questions you may have at this time, and then we shall arrange for you to travel to a location where Colin’s school things may be purchased.’ Flitwick beamed, as though he was making perfect sense. Which, Martin frowned, he wasn’t.


‘Hang on. We don’t even know anything about this school, and you expect us to just send Colin there?’


Flitwick waved the short wooden stick he had been lightly grasping the entire conversation at an empty chair. It zoomed across and bumped the back of Martin’s knees, forcing him to sit. The flabbergasted expression on his face as he looked around at the chair’s new location said more than any amount of words could.


He was ready to listen.



Quite some time later, Flitwick found himself answering the barrage of questions which he had answered hundreds of times on previous occasions and would, no doubt, answer hundreds of times over again.


‘But how did you know that Colin was a wizard? And how to find him?’ Martin Creevey asked after the Professor had told them several stories about Hogwarts and the wizarding world.


‘Ahh. That is something quite marvellous. There is a room in the Ministry of Magic – Oh yes, we have one of those – which contains nothing but a quill and piece of parchment. This quill magically records the births of every witch or wizard born to Muggle parents in Britain.’
Here Flitwick paused, noting the look of alarm which passed between Mr. and Mrs. Creevey.

‘Oh no, don’t worry yourself, there is no invasion of your privacy! It merely notes the names of the children and where they are living, so that the owl knows where to come with your Hogwarts letters!’


Barbara looked relieved for a moment before a troubled look clouded her face.

‘Professor, there is something you must understand. When the boys were born, we began setting away a little money each month for their education. There is enough in there to send both Colin and Dennis to a good private school, but what will Hogwarts cost? We have always been eager to give our boys every opportunity available to them, but we are not a well-off family.’ She looked as though this admission was costing a lot of dignity.


‘My dear lady, not to worry! Hogwarts is well within the reaches of most families, and even if you find the cost getting too much, we have special scholarships for Muggle-born children. Oh!’ Here Flitwick interrupted himself. ‘Muggle means non-magic…I always forget how much you don’t know! Now where was I…I think you’ll find that the most expensive part of Hogwarts is all the bits and pieces that Colin will need, mainly ingredients for Potions, they can get quite costly.’


Martin bristled. ‘I assure you Professor, we will not need charity.’


Colin, who knew his father’s moods inside out, also knew just when to interrupt.

‘Professor? Could you perhaps tell me about my subjects at Hogwarts?’

A conspiratorial look passed between the tiny man, whose squeaky voice was by this time slightly hoarse from overuse, and the geeky, gangly boy who had morphed in the last hour into someone far more mature and confident. Someone who had just discovered his place in the world.


Three hours later found Professor Flitwick exiting the front door of the Creevey household, far more satisfied than he had been upon arrival. The family were a pleasant one, far more pleasant than many Muggle families he had to deal with sometimes, and Barbara and Martin Creevey seemed committed to doing anything for their sons. They had agreed to meet Professor Flitwick in a pub in London in several days time to organise Colin’s school things and to have any new questions answered.


Yes, thought Filius Flitwick, as he entered the quiet back street that he would Disapparate from, Colin would fit in quite well at Hogwarts. As he vanished from the alleyway with a ‘crack’, he allowed a contented smile to settle on his face at the thought of Colin entering into an unknown world like so many others before him.







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