-Mutters and shuffles- For Mrs Bella Riddle, who has proven me wrong… yet again. T.T
Disclaimer: I see nothing, I hear nothing, and I own nothing. Harry Potter is not mine, alas, for it is never to be.
Bella stared at the thing in confusion for long moments. It was a solitary gift, delivered by a nondescript owl, and bore no note, no letter, nothing to help her identify who sent it except for the nature of its presence. It was a mystery to her, however, and she was loath to touch something that she couldn't trust.
With a flourish Bella cast several identification spells, but the thing was untraceable. She frowned and scowled, all at the same time. What was the meaning of this!?
Angrily, she threw a shoe at it. It hit it with a thud, and then fell to the floor, leaving no lasting effects on the thing whatsoever.
Coming to a decision, Bella called for one of her personal House Elves. "MIPPY!"
With a pop the Elf appeared, and Bella wasted no time with pleasantries – not that anyone did when it came to servants. "Mippy, open that box."
Bella pointed to the thing, sitting exactly where the owl had dropped it. With trepidation, the Elf approached the thing, and with a last, anxious look at her Mistress, opened the box.
Preparing herself for any number of nasty things – perhaps even a nose-fungus, or toe-severing curse – Bella was surprised when nothing untoward happened immediately. Perhaps the thing's curse was slow-acting, or not immediately noticeable?
The House Elf gave her a caught-in-the-headlights look, and promptly disappeared. Scowling, Bella was tempted to call back the good-for-nothing vagabond, but was too wrapped in her box – figuratively.
Convincing herself that it was nothing more sinister than a Muggle mouse, she stalked up to the box as though she owned it. Which, she supposed, she did.
With a certain amount of doom resting in the pit of her stomach somewhat like a large, roiling lizard, Bella peered over the box's edge.
Scarcely had she seen its contents before she had jumped away from it with a squeak of fright. Trembling, Bella cowered in the most shadowy, scary corner of her room. The darkness soothed her, and before one could say 'The Dark Lord Voldemort' backwards fifty times, Bella was back on her feet and wiping the saliva off of her thumb.
With tentative steps, she edged her way closer, and then yet closer still, until she was once again leaning over to peer inside.
It stared back at her with eyed filled with a sickening shine, its expression horrifyingly cute. A pink tongue protruded from its mouth, which left Bella with a crawl on her skin. It was even coated in some sort of… ugly fuzz.
Bella reached in a shaking hand, and it pounced. She screamed, falling backwards to land on her back, hard.
"Ouch!" she cussed, trying to find her feet.
She glared at the thing, and blamed it for every wrong that had ever been done to her. Surely it was the creation of some psychopathic demon out to torment her!
It barked, and attempted to leave its box prison. "Oh, no you don't!"
Bella crammed the lid back on the box, and spelled it shut.
Panicked, Bella tried to remember what people did when they came across such beasts. Throw them in the furnace? Surely the smell would be unbearable with all that fur. Drown the forsaken things? Yes, that sounded better – but Bella didn't want the trouble of all that water (she was, after all, going Green). But then, what to do?
It was a puzzle worthy of epic proportions. When all other avenues of thought were exhausted, Bella decided that there was only one thing she could do: she left it to the House Elves and went on a raid to make herself feel better. The fear of others did wonders to one's stress levels.
When she returned, she felt a wave of relief when she saw that the smelly thing was gone. In its place on her desk was a note, and she picked it up, wondering who had left it.
It read: "Dear Bella, I hope you have taken care of our mutual friend who has had a bit of an accident, and is now, regrettably a canine. Watch him until an antidote is found. –V. xoxo."
Bella looked up from the note, a blossoming sense of horror skittering through her chest. The – the thing – it had been – Harry Potter!
What had she done!?