Hey guys, so this was written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, with the prompt of writing about Hufflepuff's Cup and the additional prompts of the nursery rhyme Jack and Jill, the word happy, and the quote '"All that is gold does not glitter" from J.R.R. Tolkien, and for the quote, I interpreted it a bit differently than it's normally read, but oh well. Enjoy! (And leave a review and I'll send you a virtual cookie :P)
Among common wizards, Helga Hufflepuff was extraordinary. She was loyal, she was fair, and her work paid off. She was happy that way. But after agreeing to help found the new wizarding school of Hogwarts, Helga realized that not all worked as she did.
Rowena Ravenclaw valued her intelligence over everything. It came naturally to her. She didn't have to work hard to accomplish what she set out to do. Godric Gryffindor was a strong, brave man, but he was too rash. He would run straight into battle without thinking at all. And the last founder, Salazar Slytherin, was one who could make Helga's skin crawl with just a simple word. He prized blood purity over talent and good-nature, and was cold and indifferent to those with muggle blood in their veins, refusing to teach them. He was too proud to educate children were not of pure blood.
After a while, Helga saw herself as common wizards did. She was not as clever as Ravenclaw, nor as courageous as Gryffindor, nor as cunning as Slytherin. She was hard-working and fair, but no one, it seemed, valued those traits as they valued those of her friends. Slowly, she grew jealous and devised a way to prove that she was just as powerful and amazing as her co-founders.
Her answer was in her Cup. For years on end, Helga worked tirelessly creating a golden cup meant to contain so much power that it would render any spell undefeatable. She kept the Cup in a small shed just over the hill from her family home, and visited it every day, striving for perfection. After completing it, she planned to show it to the wizarding world, and they would see her true abilities in all their greatness. But some things just weren't meant to be.
Helga had two young children- a boy, with bright red hair and startling blue eyes, and a younger, blue eyed girl. The girl would follow her brother anywhere, her long blonde braids dancing in the wind behind her; he was her hero. So when he suggested that the two of them explore over the hill to see where their mother went every night, she went along without question.
It was summer. The sun was out, and the birds sang in delight. The siblings were happy in each other's company, and even more so at the thought of adventure. They climbed the hill together, the boy constantly looking back to make sure his sister was alright. She laughed at his concerns, but secretly, it made her happy that he worried for her.
When they reached the crest of the hill, they were left breathless by the sight before them. There was a simple shack standing just on the other side of the peak, but the golden light radiating out from it made it seem so much more majestic than that. The aura of magic was so strong that the boy, still months from buying his first wand, was inescapably drawn to it. The girl followed close behind, her hand outstretched, as if to put a hand on her brother's shoulder.
Soon, the two were standing at the foot of the door, and spellbound, they stepped through. Once inside, it was immediately evident where the golden light was coming from. A shining golden Cup was placed carefully on a wooden table, throwing beams of light across the walls and through the open windows. So close, the light was blindingly harsh, but hands shielding their eyes, the two children pressed forwards. As if in a trance, they extended their palms to the shining metal. The boy touched first, and as the magic from the imperfect Cup surged through him, he was thrown backwards, through the walls of the shack and back down the hill he'd come up. He was dead instantly, as soon as the metal touched his unprotected skin, but maybe it was better that way, so he didn't have to see his little sister meet the same fate.
The boy and girl were found side by side, mere feet away from the Hufflepuff family garden. The way they landed, the boy's arm was thrown over his sister, as if even in death, he wanted to shield her from harm.
It was the groundskeeper who told Helga of the horrible news. After burying her children, she ran in tears to the shed where she'd spent most of her last three years. The wooden frame was blackened, pieces of the walls cast all down the hill and across the grass, but unharmed, in the middle of the wreckage, sat her plan for greatness, and the cause of her devastation. The gold of the Cup, which Helga had once thought to be beautiful, seemed cruel, glinting in the sunlight. There were no more rays of light streaming from its surface, and Helga knew why. The magic that she had spent so long trying to harness was gone. It had been released into her children, and had died with them.
Eventually, Helga gathered enough strength to take the Cup back into her home. She kept it with her at all times, as a reminder of her lost children, and what it was that took them from her. She vowed to teach every young wizard and witch she came across, so none of them would feel so insufficient to make the mistake of thinking they need to prove themselves.
And when she finally had another child, Helga told him the story of her firstborn boy and girl, and made him promise to remember the tale. So years later, on her death bead, Helga gave it to him, and told him to, in turn, give it to his first child. She told him that the magic of the Cup was the memory of that boy and that girl, and as long as the Cup remained, so would their legacy.