Hello! This is Night here! This story was written by Night, Minkx, and Mare on our collaboration account (NightxMarexMinkx). I'm posting this story up because Mare isn't very familiar with this website.
Please enjoy our story and review. Reviews encourage Mare to keep writing, and she is one of the writers for this story...
We, well I at least, appreciate helpful criticism. Please keep in mind that this is Mare's first fanfiction story, my first collaboration story, and (I think) Minkx's first fanfiction story.
DISCLAIMER: Night, Mare, and Minkx do not own the Harry Potter book series or the movies. They all belong to J.K. Rowling. The only thing that Night, Mare, and Minkx own is this idea for this story and the OCs.
NOTE: This story takes place 20 years after Harry Potter's death, so you won't see many of the characters from the original series (except, perhaps, Professor Binns.) This story centers around 2 OCs, though you might see the descendents of the original Golden trio, etc.
Please enjoy!
Read and Review!
Andrea Orpheo sighed, tapping her foot impatiently and glancing at the robe shop across the street from the bookstore. Perhaps she should go inside, just to kill an hour of time while she was waiting. Some new reading material did sound nice.
She inspected the books behind the bookstore's glass window, reading the titles of the crisp, leather covers in a bored manner, sparing each a quick glance before her eyes flitted to the next book.
100 steps to raising a dragon by Bill Weasley (Edited Edition with special interview with Hagrid, deceased groundskeeper and dragon-raiser!)
She watched, slightly interested, as the dragon on the cover writhed and blew a snort of fire which immediately burned the straps that held one of the latest editions of The Book of Monsters shut, setting the violent book free as it snapped and began to devour the other books, tearing apart their pages, and sending the poor bookshop keeper into a panic as he scurried about in the background.
"Well, I suppose that rules out spending time in the bookstore."
Andrea checked her watch, glancing upward as a shred of the sign that had hung above the monster book fluttered downward in the flurry of flying paper, raising an eyebrow as she read "Ultimate Edition! 50% less violent than early copies".
"So much for that," she murmured to herself, "why do bookshop owners even order those crazy things."
A smiling, waving photograph of a slightly handsome man with noticeably green eyes and jet black hair wafted downwards behind the glass, landing gently on the bookstand before it too suffered the same fate as the books, mauled.
"Harry Potter," she thought to herself, before her mind, crammed with far too much information from her History of Magic class, also told her, "he was the only survivor of Voldemort's attacks. He mastered the 3 Hollows and later on defeated Voldemort himself. He died in his sleep at the age of 100 years old on August 30, 2012, exactly 20 years ago."
She groaned, tucking back a strand of her long, black hair, cursing her annoying memory. It could somehow manage to retain information from exactly 3 months ago, yet it managed to discard any information regarding numbers a few hours after she'd so carefully learned it and pressed it into her mind, which meant she'd often confused or forgotten birthdays, Arithmancy, and mixed up the dates in her History of Magic class (such as the time she'd accidentally written down that Barick the Bold had been born in 2019 instead of 1290, much to her dismay and much to her classmates' delight).
She waggled a finger back in a sort of a finger-wave at the shredded remains of the Harry Potter photo (though she could still make out Potter's waving hand).
Harry Potter was just another part of the History of Magic class now. His fame and good deeds sure to go down in stories from generation to generation (and on many of Mr. Binns's dusty tests).
Andrea snapped out of her train of thought as she caught sight of a clock.
12:00 P.M.
"Marcus, that lazy idiot! I guess I'm going to have to drag him out," she muttered to herself, suddenly remembering her situation. Andrea glanced upwards towards the sky, noting the dark gray clouds, and pulling at her bag's strap, she checked it to make sure she'd packed her umbrella. She was wearing her new robes today, and from experience, she'd learned that robes didn't fare very well in water.
Andrea then proceeded in glaring at the robe shop door from across the street, knowing exactly who to blame if her new robes were ruined, pushing her way through the crowded street and to the robe shop.
She pushed the door open, met with the friendly tinkling of bells and musty smell of mothballs.
"Marcus, aren't you done yet? I've been outside of the bookstore for an hour already!"
"Back here!" A familiar voice greeted her, coming from somewhere behind the manikins that kept hopping out to display themselves in front of her.
"What is taking you so long?" Andrea called out, her voice muffled when something soft and velvety swung rudely in her face.
"Decisions!" Came an impatient response. A flash of red hair greeted her before she saw Marcus' face in the mirror, grinning devilishly as always. "Now Andrea, do I want to go for the sophisticated, suave wizard in silver," Marcus said, spinning around to fully display his robes, which had a number of pins and threads in it, stuck at odd angles and ways that made the robe flair out. Her gaze lingered over the shop attendant who was anxiously watching Marcus and she realized that this unlucky employee of the shop had probably spent the last hour making adjustments and then taking them down again and then going to fetch the various robes lying on the floor next to the mirror, all to the whim of her friend. "The extra height does help, doesn't it..." Marcus mumbled to himself as he walked past the mirror again. Outside, the rain swished sideways across the shop window, blurring the view of the bookstore across the street, as Andrea watched for signs of her friends and classmates, most of whom would be returning for their 4th year of Hogwarts.
"Andrea!" Marcus' face was suddenly invading her space as she realized he had been trying to showcase the various robes he had been trying on, and she had not been paying attention as this was of trivial concern.
"Let's go! I've got the purple ones, good with the cape I've seen- Oh, we've got to go there now!" Andrea didn't ask for an explanation, knowing that Marcus probably wouldn't be stopped from whatever new obsession he had with extravagance. She quickened her pace as Marcus brushed past her, catching the door before it hit her in the face.
"Ever the gentleman..."she muttered before taking a last glance at the warmth of the shop.
"Hey," she called, quickening her pace in the rain as she set her eyes on the running form of Marcus, "You got a head start!" She called before really running, pulling out an umbrella from her bag and bumping into Marcus as they rounded the turn out of Diagon Alley.
It's 12:30! We need to get on the train by 1:25!"
Andrea checked her watch again as she pushed the door open to the store she had seen Marcus go into.
She groaned.
The store turned out to be a muggle shop filled with t-shirts and punk music and edgy clothing.
While wondering what Marcus would possibly want to come here for, as she personally preferred country music over pop and found the shop extremely tacky, she spotted him by a pair of cowboy boots. He was enthusiastically discussing their price with the cashier, while eyeing a cape over the cashier's shoulder. Andrea personally pitied the poor girl, having to deal with a shopper like Marcus. The conversation ended when Marcus dug out a big bag of Galleons and bought not only the cape and the cowboy boots but a top hat also.
"Marcus, we still need to make a trip home to get our things!"
"Alright, I'm ready!" Marcus greeted her rather enthusiastically, already wearing his new cowboy boots and the top hat, which reminded her a lot of that man they printed on Muggle money.
She gave him a skeptical look.
"You shouldn't waste your money," she lectured, starting to feel a lot like one of those old-fashioned, stuck-up nursemaids who tried to keep up with those energetic kids they were supposed to care for.
Marcus looked affronted.
"I mean, I might as well cherish the most dashing time of my youth, right?" He carded a hand through his hair and tried to patronize her with his signature insidious look.
"Stupid playboy," she muttered under her breath, though she relented, "let's just get our stuff and go to the station already."
Marcus waved his purple-robed arms about in a grand gesture as they walked.
"No need! We can go straight to the station!" he announced loudly, dragging her to the station and then plunging through the wall to the platform 9 ¾, he shouted loudly, "Hokey-pokey!"
He gained a few stares from the surrounding witches and wizards as there was a puff of smoke and a disgruntled-looking house elf appeared, looking particularly worse for wear with his pinkish-white flesh hanging off of his bony limbs and his right hand missing, replaced with a shiny, golden hook with Marcus's family crest, engraved upon it, the Valenski crest, a sleek leopard.
He pointed a finger at the house elf and commanded in a grand voice, "Hokey-pokey! Get me and Andrea our luggage for Hogwarts!"
"Lazybones…" she muttered at Mark under her breath, "Can't even do your own work…"
The elf gave her a rather poisonous glare and disappeared in a puff of smoke, reappearing a few moments later with 4 large trunks, 3 of which were extremely fancy, gilded with silver and with a snake insignia on it, while the fourth was plain, with nothing but a name tag attached to it.
"And our pets, Hokey-Pokey!"
The elf disappeared in another puff of smoke, taking 3 minutes before reappearing, this time, with a large cage containing an owl and a carrier holding a tawny cat with cold, gray-green eyes that inspected its surrounding with disdain.
The elf deposited the cage unceremoniously on the floor, causing the slumbering owl inside of it to awaken in a flurry of feather and hoots as Andrea gave the elf a dirty look, retrieving the cage and its contents carefully and placing it upright on the platform floor.
"Hello, Eloise!"
Marcus quickly unlatched the door of the carrier and pulled out the poor cat, ignoring how it writhed in his arms uncomfortably and hissed.
The elf still stood on the platform, tapping his foot in an annoyed manner while muttering under his breath.
Remembering something, Andrea stood, asking, "Marcus…isn't your house elf called Hooky? Not Hokey-Pokey?"
"Hmm?" Marcus looked up, "He is?"
Hooky threw Andrea another glare, performing a deep bow in Marcus's direction, before saying in a hissing tone, "Master Marcus can call me whatever he wants. He does not have too listen to this idiotic half-blood…."
Andrea glared back at him, clearly telling him his ill intentions toward her were mutual, as he continued his little rant.
"Oh, master Marcus used to be such a good child…Always did whatever his parents told him…worthy of Salazar Slytherin's house….did what he had to do…yes, he had the right friends back then. He was respected, proud…everything a good pureblood should be. He knew back then that when a limb of a tree went bad it should be cut off! Until he mixed with the likes of you and-"
Suddenly, Marcus moved swiftly, unlike his usual lazy, far too-extravagant gestures, and with his cloak flying behind him, he roughly clamped a hand over the frail house-elf's mouth.
For a moment, Andrea could see the resemblance between Marcus and his family's emblem, the leopard.
His eyes had turned icy, usually lax shoulders tense to reveal lean, muscular arms that she hadn't even realized Marcus had, and his teeth were even slightly clenched and bared.
She'd once imagined that if she were to sketch Marcus, she would have to use the lightest, slightly blurring lines for his relaxed body, a curvaceous line for his mouth, and perhaps mischievous eyes, and that would be enough to capture his essence. Yet if she had that drawing right now, she would have started over, let all of those light pencil strokes be swallowed up by the pink eraser, and replace them with rigid, dark lines, slant his eyes and shade in that dark coldness she saw in them right now.
"Marcus?" she ventured to ask.
"Hooky, you may go now."
Andrea gave a start. Marcus usually never got the house-elf's name right.
And as she watched him withdraw his arm, fist still clenched tightly, bending down to brush his purple robes off, she swore she heard him whisper, "Don't ever tell."
I hope you enjoyed the story, and I repeat, please review. Reviews encourage us to continue writing.
Keep in mind, this was a bit of any introductory chapter, just so the readers could understand our setting, time period, and get to know our characters. Feel free to PM.
Our OCs:
Andrea Orpheo belongs to Night
Marcus Valenski belongs to Mare
Hooks (Hokey-Pokey) the House Elf belongs to Night