So, this is a little drabble fic companion to Heart of a Hufflepuff, focused on Phoebe, since you all seem to love her. I've been writing this for a while, but now have decided to publish. Don't be afraid to review/comment/like/fav! It truly does mean the world to me!
Disclaimer: If in the chapter title I post a *** it means there will be spoilers for Heart of a Hufflepuff contained in that chapter. If you read a spoiler, please don't be mad with me, because I warned you and I'll be clearly marking the chapters!
Phoebe Hibbert had always been a bit of a….peculiar kind of girl. She was the kind of girl that all the other kids her age made comments about, though she was also the kind of girl that didn't let those comments go to her head. She had other things to worry about, like looking for leprechauns in the garden and drawing pictures of the fairies that lived in her mother's rose bushes. She had to tend to her rats, which she kept bringing home, despite the fact her parents kept giving them away. She spent hours in the garden like that, rats riding on her shoulder, roses she ripped from the bush stuck in her fraying French braids, as she sketched the fairies and leprechauns that waved to her as they bounded about the garden.
Being Muggles, her parents worried immensely about their daughter seeing all of these "mythological creatures" in their garden. It was cute when she was little, sure, but as she reached double digits in age and became increasingly adamant about the fairies and leprechauns and her love for rats and other little rodents, it became much less cute than it had been when she was a tot.
However, her grandparents, who were the two most wonderful people in her life, believed her. They doted on her, loved her more than anything, and indulged her, quite the contrary to how her parents treated her. Her parents tried to stuff her in a school uniform and force her to say her prayers and eat her vegetables and comb her hair and put away the rats, while her grandparents wouldn't imagine making her do any of those things.
Her parents wouldn't even let her go to Hogwarts when the time came. It was her grandparents who took her to London, to buy her supplies and see her off on the Hogwarts Express.
"We love you, little rose," her grandfather said to her, pressing a kiss to her freckled nose. She'd earned the nickname 'little rose' from all the roses she'd stuck in her hair over the years. "And we know you'll do great at this Piggywheat school."
"It's Hogwarts, dear," her grandmother said, prodding her husband with his elbow. Then, gripping Phoebe's cheeks and smacking a kiss to her forehead, she said, "But, your grandad's right - we love you and we know you'll be great. And a great witch."
"Say hello to the leprechauns for me, will you?" Phoebe requested in a way that was very much Phoebe-esque.
"Of course," they assured her, before seeing her off to the train.
Once on the train, Phoebe waved, as she watched her grandparents grow smaller and smaller on the Platform. While moving one of her rat's paws so it looked like it was waving, she, in a small voice, said, "Love you, gran and grandad."