Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition.
Bill frowned in distaste as he regarded the closet in front of him. It was crammed full of boxes with various miscellaneous items scattered around them. Quite honestly, he did not want to go digging around in it, but he really didn't have a choice in the matter. There should be an old photo album crammed somewhere in the mess that he wanted to give his friend. His birthday was coming up, and he wanted to give him something special. Not only that, but his mum had all but threatened that he clean up or so help her.
With a sigh, he rolled up his sleeves. Reaching up, Bill grabbed the uppermost box and pulled. It came out easily enough, which was good. The problem though, was that it caused the entire pile to sway, and it was now teetering and leaning towards him. Bill, thanking his experience in curse breaking and dangerous situation, managed to dive to the side before the entire thing came down with a resounding crash.
For a moment, he just stared. Then he let out a muffled curse.
"What in the world are you doing up there?" His mum shouted after a beat.
"Nothing!" He called back quickly.
Brushing himself off, Bill stood and approached the mess on the floor. Eyeing it, he decided to leave everything on the floor and put it all back after he finished searching.
Sitting down again, Bill dragged the nearest box towards him. He cocked his head to the side as he regarded its appearance. It was a very faded color. He almost couldn't tell that it used to be beige. The corners of the box were worn, and the lid was also sealed messily with cellotape. Grabbing his wand, he removed the tape and opened the top.
The first thing that hit him was the stench. Bill instantly plugged his nose, feeling as though the Hogwarts Express had just hit him at full speed.
Eyes tearing up, he glanced in the box. There were only two items inside. The first one was a large pellet of dung right in the centre of the box. The second, wrapped around the dung was a long, silvery strand of what seemed to be hair.
A feeling of dread started in his stomach as he realized exactly where those two items came from.
It had been a long time ago, when he had been five years old, and kind of stupid. Charlie had been three at the time, too young to remember anything, of which he was extremely glad for.
It started out like any other day in the summer: bright and sunny. Bill was just leaving the house to go meet his friend, Andrew, at the playground. Andrew was also from a wizarding family just over the hill from theirs, and they had been friends for a while. He was also a couple years older than Bill, and he knew everything there was to know in the world.
However, when he arrived at the playground, it was empty. Bill shrugged and walked over to the swing set. Sitting down, he pumped his legs furiously until he was swinging at dangerous heights. He laughed happily, in his own bubble for the time being.
But being on the swing could only amuse Bill for a little while, and Andrew still wasn't there. He walked around for a bit, having nothing to do,.
An hour later, he lay back against the swings, bored and slightly irritable. As he got up to walk back to the Burrow, he spotted Andrew's skinny form hurrying over to him. Bill tensed, fury visible on his face, but Andrew quickly grabbed his arm and hustled him over to a corner. When he tried to speak, he was shushed.
"This is important Bill," Andrew said. Despite himself, Bill found himself leaning forward in interest, anger pushed to the back of his mind. "I heard my mum and dad talking today."
Andrew glanced about him.
"We're the only ones here," Bill whispered. "Go on."
"Well, they were talking about a ritual or something that can make you a really good wizard. And it's simple too. All you need is some sheep dung, and a strand of Dumbledore's hair."
"Dumbledore?" Bill said, awed. "Are you going to do it then?"
Andrew shook his head furiously. "That's crazy! If my parents find me doing it they'll know I eavesdropped and ground me for life! But you can do it."
Bill agreed instantly.
Andrew grinned widely. "Great! Now after you get the ingredients, you have smear some sheep dung all over your face. Then, wrap the hair around a single pellet of sheep dung and say 'Torima'."
Bill, listening intently, nodded.
The two split up, promising to meet up again when the ritual was done. As Bill walked home, his brain was spinning furiously. The sheep dung should be able to be taken easily enough, but how in the world was he going to find Dumbledore? Shaking his head, he resolved to think of that later.
As for the sheep dung, he knew a nearby field where he'd spotted sheep grazing there once or twice. Bill headed off in that direction. He'd pass by it on the way home so there was no need to take a detour or another route.
It wasn't very long before he reached the fields. It was quite beautiful at that time of the year, with rolling green hills and small flowers dotted here and there. With delight, he spotted a flock of white sheep in the distance. Bill slowly walked closer to them, taking care not to make too much noise. He didn't want to scare them away.
He was a couple metres away from them when he encountered his first pile of dung. Grinning happily, he reached down. And paused.
It was then he realized he had brought nothing to hold the dung in, or pick it up. Bill scrunched his eyebrows together, wondering what he should do. He couldn't possibly go back without the dung.
With careful consideration, he slowly reached down and brushed a pellet into his hand. A shudder ran through his body. The dung was disgustingly warm and moist, and also slightly squishy. It must've been fresh.
Clenching it lightly, but firmly in his hands and keeping a grimace off his face, he started to head back home so he could store the dung somewhere safe first. Then he could focus on getting a strand of Dumbledore's beard.
He pondered on how he would do that as he walked home leisurely. His mum had said that Dumbledore was usually at Hogwarts, and that was really far away. So he was at a dead end.
Heaving a sigh, Bill trooped into the Burrow glumly. He entered the kitchen, planning to get a snack before brainstorming some more. He frowned upon seeing it empty.
"Mum?" He called out. There was the muffled sound of a door being closed before he heard her rushing downstairs.
"Right here, dear." His mum came into view, holding a large shopping bag. "I was just looking for you. Come on, we're going to Diagon Alley."
Diagon Alley… Bill's eyes brightened as an idea suddenly hit him. Surely an important person like Dumbledore would be at Diagon Alley? Everyone went there after all. He quickly darted off to put the sheep dung down in a box and clean up a bit before heading out.
After arriving in the Alley by Floo, Bill took off. He was on a quest, and not even his mum's angry shouts would deter him.
"I'll be back soon!" He called over his shoulder.
Weaving expertly through the crowds, Bill glanced through every nook and cranny of every store he could find. He searched through every store, from one end of the Alley to another. But Dumbledore was nowhere to be found.
Bill collapsed into a nearby bench, exhausted and upset. He had wasted hours trying to fine him but he wasn't eve there. Shame burned through him as tears came to his eyes, but he was unable to stop it even if he wanted to.
He started bawling.
This immediately attracted the attention of passerby's. A few of them rushed to him, anxiously asking what was wrong.
"I need Dumbledore!" He wailed.
The crowd murmured to themselves in confusion. They asked for his name, where his parents were and more, but he simply shook his head and repeated his first statement. Bill would not be consoled.
"What in the name of Merlin is going on here?" A new voice joined in.
"Minvera!" A middle aged woman called in relief. "Thank Merlin you're here. This child is asking for Dumbledore and won't say anything else."
Bill glanced up to a severe looking woman walk up to him. She crouched down to look at him. And blinked in surprise.
"You're Molly and Arthur's child aren't you? William, was it?"
Bill hesitantly nodded.
"Why do you need to see Dumbledore?"
"…It's important," he sniffled.
Minerva's eyes softened and she straightened up. "Very well then. I was just about to go to Hogwarts anyway. I can take you there."
Bill's eyes lit up as he jumped up. "Really? You'll really take me there?"
She nodded, an amused smile dancing on her face. Holding out her hand, she said, "I'm taking you along a side-along apparation. Hold on tightly."
Bill obediently did as she said, clutching her hand tightly. Instantly, his breath caught as he endured the feeling of being squeezed through a very small and tight tube. It was over in a second though, and as soon as he stopped feeling so dizzy, he looked up.
What he saw astonished him. Bill was in the middle of what seemed to be a town, complete with numerous towns and crowds of people. The houses were quaint and gave off a feeling of home.
"What is this place?" He asked.
"This is a town called Hogsmeade," Minvera replied, walking briskly forward. Bill hastily followed. "Hogwarts is just up ahead."
They walked for a short while. The distance from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts wasn't large, and Bill like being outside. It was only when he nearly walked into the gates that he realized that they had arrived at their destination.
His jaw slackened and let out a small gasp. Bill's mouth worked silently, unable to come up with any words.
The castle was, put simply, incredible.
Minerva let him take in the sight before guiding him gently into the school grounds. They walked past the grumpy old man who had let them in, a pretty lake, and a small hut before they reached the front. From there, they continued to walk until they reached a pair of stone gargoyles. Bill stared in confusion.
"Lemon drops," she stated. Stairs appeared as the gargoyles nodded and stepped aside.
Minerva stepped on the staircase, with Bill scrambling after her. They soon came upon an ornate wooden door. She reached over and knocked on the door.
A faint, "Come in," drifted from inside.
Minerva pushed the door open, gesturing for him to go in. Bill hesitantly entered.
A figure stood upon his arrival, and he stared at it in awe. It was Dumbledore. Only the greatest wizard alive. And he was standing right in front of him.
Dumbledore gave him a benign smile. Bill stepped a bit closer.
Reaching out, he grabbed a strand of Dumbledore's hair (or two strands, or three, maybe a handful but who was counting, really?) and pulled. It came out very easily. Bill blinked up at his face.
Dumbledore's expression hadn't changed much and his eyes had started twinkling. Chuckling a bit, he rubbed the area of skin where hair used to be. Meanwhile, Minerva gaped in shocked silence. Clutching her chest in sheer surprise, she leaned on the doorframe for support.
"Hello, sir. I'm Bill Weasley," Bill said, because his mum always said it was a polite thing to do. "Can I take this? It's very important." He waved the hand with the hair on it for emphasis.
"Of course. Go ahead," Dumbledore said, eyes still twinkling brightly. "Minerva, could you escort Mr. Weasley back to his parents? I'm sure they're very worried."
Minerva blinked. "I— yes, I-I'll do that."
She still seemed to be in shock as she led him outside, because she didn't say anything until they were back in Diagon Alley.
The two of them walked around, asking around if people had seen his mum. Eventually, they found her pacing outside the pet store, hands twisting anxiously. Upon spotting them, he could see a range of emotions playing across her face. Worry, relief, anger, and confusion, in that order.
She rushed over to them. "Minerva! Thank you for finding him and bringing him back."
"It wasn't a problem," she said. "But if you don't mind, I have to take my leave now."
"Oh, yes, of course. Thank you, again."
The moment she was out of sight, his mum rounded on him, anger clear in her eyes.
"What were you thinking?" She hissed.
Bill shuffled his feet and looked at the ground.
His mum's angry expression faltered, and she sighed. "We're going home."
She kept up an angry silence as they arrived back at the Burrow. As soon as she disappeared into the living room, he shot up the stairs to his room.
After making sure the door was fully closed, Bill took out the box that held the sheep dung. Settling the hair nearby, he carefully lifted off the lid.
Recalling Andrew's instructions, a grimace came onto his face. Leaving one pellet of dung aside, he squished the rest of the pellets together and lifted his hand to his face. The smell was almost unbearable. Bill quickly dragged it onto his cheeks, his forehead, and his chin, resisting the urge to puke.
Then he grabbed the last pellet and wound a single strand of hair around it.
"Torima," he chanted.
Nothing happened. Frowning, Bill repeated the word, wondering if he was saying it wrong.
Just as he was about to say it a third time, the door opened. Bill instantly froze, as did his mum on the other side.
"Bill?" She asked. "What are you— what is that smell? Is that dung on your face?!"
"Errm," he said. "Yeah."
She raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.
"Well, you see, I can explain," Bill said. "Andrew said that doing this would make me a powerful wizard."
Silence settled on the room.
"You're telling me that Andrew told you to smear dung all over your face and shout nonsense words?" His mum asked incredulously. "Something like that doesn't exist. He was probably just playing with you. A prank."
Bill blinked. He shifted awkwardly. "Oh, I-I guess I should wash up then…"
He crept past his mum, ears bright red.
Later, when he was back in his room, he hurriedly shoved the last pellet of sheep dung in the box and cellotaped it shut. He then shoved it to the back of the closet, never to be seen again.
He was jolted out of his memories by a hand shaking his shoulder.
"Bill?" His mum asked. "I've been calling you to dinner for a couple minutes now."
"What? Oh, yeah, sorry. I'll be right down."
She frowned lightly and glanced down at the box. Realization dawned on her face, and her mouth twitched up into an amused smile. "I remember that incident."
Bill groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "Unfortunately, so do I."
"You know, this would make a wonderful dinner story."
"Mum! Don't tell them!"
She laughed, heading for the door. "We'll see."
"Mum!"