AN: Well here is chapter two, I hope you have enjoyed the last chapter and enjoy this one too. Juts ask me to stop uploading new chapter if you don't like the story. If no one likes it then it is not worth writing about. But besides that, it might be a little while until we get introduced to some of the other characters of Ghost Hunt but we will at some point. If memory serves me right, it should be pretty soon.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Ghost Hunt or Harry Potter.
You're A Psychic, Noll.
Chapter two
There was a flash of green light and what he thought was a flying motorbike and then he was back in the small space of the cupboard under the stairs. Twelve year old Oliver Davis, more commonly known as boy, rubbed his eyes and sat up only to bang his head on a shelf that was full of his childish toys. The only childish things he really had. Toy cars and aeroplanes and soldiers and men all dotted around on this shelf – they were pretty much all he owned.
He nursed his bruised head and lay back down, there was no where to go until his aunt unlocked the cupboard door and he was set 'free' only to be pushed into the kitchen to get his uncle's breakfast sorted out. He waited and waited for what seemed like hours for his aunt's shrill voice to pierce his eardrums. And then after long last, Luella's footsteps came marching towards the cupboard door.
"Boy!" She unlocked the door and yanked him out. He tumbled onto his knees, quickly standing up in case she decided to kick him. "Go get dressed and cook the bacon. It's Darren's birthday today and we are all going the zoo with Darren's friend, Percy. Hurry up!"
She pushed him back and he fell onto his bed. She closed the door over but did not lock it this time. He quietly listened to his aunt's footsteps fade away and only when they were completely gone did he move.
He knelt on his bed and reached down to retrieve his clothes. Well, they weren't really his clothes. They were Darren's old clothes that he couldn't fit into any more. So that was how Oliver got given the old hand-me-downs of the pig headed boy who he was unfortunately related to.
He quickly changed and put on his broken reading glasses. They never bothered to get him new ones after they had been broken time and time again by none other than Darren himself, and so they were repaired with a lot of sellotape that itched his nose an awful lot of the time.
Oliver Davis was quite a skinny boy with messy raven hair and dark blue eyes. He was actually rather handsome for a kid; he would be a looker when he was older. But no one seemed to see that passed his unkempt appearance and scar atop his forehead which was oddly shaped like a lightening bolt.
That scar was the only thing which Oliver thought distinguishes him the most and he often spent most of his time wondering how he got it. He dared to ask his aunt once and she had told him, quite nastily, that he had gotten it in the car crash that had killed his parents.
He had to leave it at that though, because the Davis's favourite rule was to never ask questions. He couldn't ask them anything. He had never done it so he couldn't be sure, but if he asked them what the time was then he might even get a clout. The Davis's were just like that.
Sighing, Oliver climbed out of his cupboard and drags his feet along the ugly looking carpet. He steps foot into the kitchen and immediately takes note of all the presents scattered along the table, and the floor, and basically everywhere else in the kitchen. Darren was such a spoiled pig!
Trying his best to avoid the large presents, he ducked and dived all the way to the oven where he began to cook the bacon. He adjusted his broken glasses and switched the kettle on. As soon as his uncle got up, he would surely want a nice bitter cup of coffee.
Oliver didn't care much for the drink, not at all. However, he quite admired a nice cup of tea. Too bad he hadn't had any in a long long time. Immediately after Darren had found out about his roaring passion for the drink, he immediately told uncle and then uncle immediately confiscated the beverage.
And all because Oliver liked that drink… he didn't quite understand why it had to be bloody banned from the house, but he did not dare ask either. It would just be a fruitless effort.
The loud groans of the staircase reached his ears and he knew without delay that it was his uncle. He quickly put the bacon on a plate and put some bread down beside it, resting it right in front of where his uncle now sat. He brewed the coffee and placed the cup on the table, being careful not to spill any.
He couldn't be bothered listening to his uncle yelling at him this early in the morning. He glanced at the clock on the wall – not even eight yet, and his uncle Martin looked like the walking dead.
But he did not stop to ask him how he felt.
"Let me get this clear, boy." Martin sneered, taking a long sip of his drink. "The only reason you are even coming with us to the zoo is because your babysitter isn't feeling up to seeing your face."
"What happened to this Miss?" Oliver questioned and then recoiled slightly. He had just asked a question. But thankfully his uncle took no notice.
"Miss Pigg has broken her leg in an accident and she hasn't the energy to look after a brat such as yourself. And we can't get another babysitter on such short notice so that means you are coming with us."
"And…?"
"And that means you are to be on your best behaviour!" Martin snapped.
Luella and Darren walked into the room, silencing the two of them instantaneously. They did not want to anger or upset the precious birthday boy seeing as this was such a special occasion.
Too late!
"Th…thirty seven presents!?" Darren yells in disbelief. "Last year I had more than that! Thirty seven!? Thirty seven!? Do you not care about me at all!? How could you treat your own flesh and blood like this!?"
"I-it's okay, precious." Luella cooed. "When we go out in a bit, we will by you two more presents for your birthday. How does that sound? Hmm?"
"It still isn't enough!" Darren mumbled under his breath but no one appeared to have heard.
"Right!" Luella clapped her hands together after she heard the doorbell ring. "Percy is waiting for us. We have to leave now, no dawdling!"
Half an hour later, they were all squished inside Martin's small car. Oliver, Darren, Percy, Luella and Martin. Oliver, being unfortunate, had to sit in between his cousin and his cousin's friend. They kept pulling faces at each other, poking and prodding Oliver, seeing how far they could do before they pushed him to the edge. That was their fun little game.
Oliver was about to snap, he well and truly was, and then thank heavens that a noisy motorbike raced past. Martin grumbled, "Stupid motorcycles! Why are they so loud1?"
"I had a dream about a flying motorcycle," Oliver mused out loud for everyone to hear.
Darren and Percy were giggling at him while Luella looked away and Martin turned red with uncalled for anger. "Motorcycles cannot fly!"
But he wasn't listening; he was remembering all the weird thing that had happened to him. There was that time he accidently controlled what his teacher did for half and hour, jumped on his school's chimney and made colourful balls of light roam around when his class was holding a disco.
He was pulled from out of his thoughts when he was suddenly dragged into the reptile room at the zoo. They all gathered around a sleeping snake. It lay there soundly, ignoring the visitors that were pressing their faces against the glass of his habitat and stayed asleep.
Darren tapped the glass furiously, pressing his face even harder against the glass, trying to catch the snake's attention. But still it did not move. Oliver his a smirk at his cousin's pitiful attempts and continued to watch what would happen next. Darren glared at the snake, "You're no fun!"
They all moved away and as soon as they did the snake lifted up his head and seemed to sigh in relief. Oliver snorted, still standing beside the glass that was now covered in dirty marks. "Annoying, aren't they."
The snake nodded its head and hissed, seeming to agree with him.
"Just be glad that you don't have to live with them," he huffed. "But I suppose it would still be pretty horrible being kept behind this glass, having snotty kids pressing their faces against it and cramping up your space…"
"Yesss," the snake seemed to hiss.
"Well I'm Oliver, and you must be," he read over the sign. "Sammy the snake. How original! Nice to meet you Sammy."
The snake nodded in greeting, slithering closer to the glass that separated them. Oliver moved closer too, "I'm from London. Are you are from… Spain, was it?"
Sammy the snake pointed its tale at the sign again so that Oliver could get a better look at it. "Oh," he said. "You are going to Spain. So I wonder where you are from then–"
"Look! Look over there! The snake is moving!" Percy's voice captured the attention of the Davis family and they all came rushing over to see what was going on. The pushed Oliver out the way, and went back to pressing their dirty faces against the glass.
Oliver wished that the glass would vanish so that Darren would fall in and hopefully get bitten by the snake. Maybe then the pig faced boy would learn a thing or two about being nice and well mannered.
Fat chance!
But then to Oliver's pure joy and amusement, the glass does indeed vanish and Darren falls in. He starts to cry, calling for his beloved "Mummy!" and splashing about in the water.
The snake slithers out but not without hissing a quiet thankssss and causing a ruckus within the reptile room. You could vaguely hear people screaming about a Boa Constrictor being set on the loose and then all eyes were on him.
Oliver gulped; he had the feeling that he was in big trouble.
Martin grabbed him by his collar and hauls him up to his feet, muttering something about how improper and inhuman it was to use magic like that, especially to Darren of all people, to which Oliver looks at him like he had grown another head.
"What!?" He yelps as he was forced into the car. "What has magic got to do with any of this!?"
"Don't ask questions!" Martin snapped. "And when we are getting back, you are going straight to the cupboard!"