A/N: I wrote this a very long time ago. I only got to chapter three or four. Depending on reception of it, I might start to continue working on it. This is a spoof version of Harry Potter: And the Goblet of Fire. I love the books, so this is all in fun. There is some minor swearing and probably not suited for younger audiences. Please enjoy the first chapter. ^_^
Chapter One: The Riddle House
To everyone in the small village, the house was still known as 'the Riddle House.' The occupants had not been there for several decades, but it had retained the name and no one had lived there since. The most plausible reason being that the house was just plain creepy and now a bit run down and who would really want to spend their life savings on that much of a fixer-upper? The real estate market was already a tricky game and there was always the spooky stories that came with it that was sure to scare away potential buyers even if they had no prior knowledge of the house's history.
Despite all of this, as the house is obviously important since it is in the title, the place was still kept up, albeit very poorly, by the gardener, Frank. Breaking most of the accepted rules of fantasy, he is given a name which would usually mean he is important enough to survive the story, however, that is not the case. But I am getting ahead of myself.
Back when the house was still inhabited by people and not just insects, rodents, a few birds, a few very mischievous raccoons. We will leave the raccoons out of this for the sake of the story. Bad blood there. Now, the owners of the house, the infamous Riddles, had been tragically murdered. Strangely enough, the murder was not the strange part. They were found, dead as one could be, in perfect health. No bullet holes, poison, illness, stab wounds, restricted airways, long term heart conditions, claw marks, scorch marks, internal bleeding, blood, missing organs, brain damage, or anything that would indicate they should be dead. Logic told them one thing, but the rigor mortis, lack of energy, and just the obvious absence of a heart beat told them otherwise. Even after intense investigations from the casts of CSI: New York, Law and Order: Criminal Intent, and that dude from 24, they came up with nothing.
Favors had been called in, laws had been broken, but no one could come up with an answer. So the case went into a file, never to be brought up again…UNTIL.
No. That would be insane if I made the story like that, wouldn't it? A Harry Potter novel without Harry? Even I don't have that much nerve.
So the house sat in infamy. Leaving the townspeople to gossip about it, remarking that maybe Frank had been the culprit. He had always given a rather fearsome impression and they all felt they had read enough mystery novels to correctly guess that the gardener did it. In the bedroom. With the lead pipe. Had there been a butler it would have been another matter, because it is almost always the butler who kills everyone.
As the years passed the house grew older as did its caretaker. The people had mostly given up on the topic and the only attention it received was from Frank, its multi-species occupants, and the occasional teenager too proud to refuse a dare. This brings us to one night in particular. Frank was in his little shack-like home, which did not help his case in the creepy-old-man department, when he noticed a light on in the house. This was odd, since they had not paid the electric bill in over fifty years. He assumed it was a flashlight of some sort and he slammed his oven mitt down on the counter, creating no real noise at all, and then, showing a complete disregard for fire safety, left his tea on the lit burner to check the house. Those damn teenagers and their sex in old rooms. Couldn't they just take their parents' car to the edge of a cliff and fornicate there like in the old days? Yes, the old days. How he missed them and the feeling of the shifter digging into your back. Rotten youth. He grumbled in his head.
Having a flashlight of his own, he began to look for the reckless renegades. He started up the stairs, since the light had come from an upstairs window, and then stopped in his tracks. It wasn't children's voices that he heard. Feeling adventurous, he continued up the stairs, slowly. The voices grew louder and were now more clear.
"I'm s…sorry my lord…" Came a whiny high pitched voice. It reminded Frank of a mouse, but he wasn't sure why.
"Don't lie, Wormtail. And I can see that you are. You are repulsed by me, I know. You stay out of fear, because you know that I could kill you whenever I wanted. It would be only too easy…" The snake-like voice paused, "Unless, of course you move out of my field of vision. I can't exactly move to pursue you, but rest assured…I would find you eventually." He finished his threat darkly.
"I am not here out of fear, my lord. I love you." The first man, Wormtail, whimpered.
'Lord? Wormtail? Weren't these voices a little old to be LARPing?' Frank thought.
"Love, Wormtail? That's laying it on a bit thick isn't it?" Said yet another voice. This one, however, did not have any distinguishable sound to it, and actually painted the mental picture of a well dressed man in a business suit or even a well-bred alien that likes to cleverly meddle in the lives of humans.
"Enough!" Ordered Snake Voice. "Is everything ready?"
"Yes, my lord." Replied Normal Voice. "He will be ours very soon."
"Good. Good." Whispered Snake Voice.
"My lord, would it not be easier on you to get another boy? Someone easier to obtain?" Wormtail asked.
There was silence. "If I could grab your collar and throw you into the wall…NO! There is no other option. I want him and that is final! I don't care if it's too hard. Deal with it. I'm a fucking pile of…would you even call this skin? And you except me to sympathize with you having to catch one little boy? Oh, boo hoo. Cry me a river and then drown yourself in it. Why do I always get stuck with such useless help? Really, am I that bad to work for? I offer great benefits and health and life insurance are a given. I pay well. Why do I still end up stuck with people like you?" Snake Voice ranted.
"I'm sorry, master. I didn't mean to upset you. You offer great benefits and you pay very well…I didn't mean it. Forgive me."
"Just get up, you kiss ass. And go and wipe your nose, you've got brown stuff all over it." Snake Voice ordered.
Frank listened to all this in confusion. The only thing his mind was able to clearly process was that some little boy was about to be kidnapped by some strange circus freaks. No doubt to be part of some evil experiment and then beaten, raped, and left for dead. It made Frank's deflated sense of justice spring into action. He would not let this boy suffer this fate! And he made to turn around, but stopped by yet another surprise. Really, you never know what sort of stuff you'll find in old houses.
A large snake slithered up the steps and past his feet, stopping to look at him and then passing him by like he was unworthy of eating. Not that Frank minded the snake's pompous attitude, but he was still a bit hurt by it. 'Racist.' He thought.
"Ah, my beautiful pet." Snake Voice said as the actual snake slithered up his chair and seemed to converse with him. A series of hissing followed and then Snake Voice chuckled. "It seems we have a visitor. The muggle gardener is listening outside the door."
"Does anyone respect privacy anymore?" Normal Voice huffed as he went to open the door the rest of the way.
"Bring him in." Ordered Snake Voice.
Light showered over Frank as he stood still. They can't see me if I don't move, he thought quickly. They can't see-
"I can't see him…he must be standing completely still…" Normal Voice said reaching out a hand and grabbing air.
That worked? Frank thought shocked, but unfortunately that also caused him to move his head and he was instantly spotted.
"Aha! You're a sneaky one, aren't you?" Normal Voice said grabbing Frank's arm roughly.
Frank shook his head violently, too scared to talk.
"Wormtail! Manners. I tell you all the time I can't move myself and you have to do it for me. God, why are you such an idiot." Wormtail froze and Frank could see his brain trying to figure out what he needed to do. "The chair, idiot. I need you to turn the chair so I can give our guest a polite greeting." Snake Voice was very annoyed.
"Y..yes, my lord." As Wormtail turned the chair he added more quietly, "By 'polite greeting' do you mean 'kill?'"
"Well, that is what I had been planning before you started running your mouth." Snake Voice scolded. "Look, go sit in the corner and count the holes in the wall."
"But, my lord…there are so many…I can't possibly count that high."
"I want an exact number in twenty minutes." Snake Voice continued.
"No! Please, I won't say anything else. I swear!" Wormtail pleaded, which is something he seemed to do quite often.
"One. Two…"
"Alright. Alright." Wormtail moved to the corner and his timid counting could be heard faintly in the background.
"Now. About our guest. Avada Kadavra." Snake Voice shouted, wasting no time. A green light was the last thing Frank saw, before the white light, which he walked into despite all the protests he had heard in the movies against it.