Hello again people! I've decided that instead of adding the sequel to a new story, I'll make it a continuation of this one, just to make it easier for you guys to read! Enjoy :)
Through Different Eyes: The Watcher's Tale
Prologue-
It was a dark, moonlit night it late July, as the two women walked briskly down the lane, exactly in time with each others steps. The chill in the air could have been cut with a knife, yet the women seemed not to feel the cold, as they wore long summer dresses and shawls. They walked along the overgrown lane in silence, occasionally stopping and making odd concentric movements with their hands as though batting away midges, or stroking an invisible horse. But the Watcher knew that both these things were impossible- yet there was something intriguing about the women all the same, and if he didn't get a good story, Mr. Walker would definitely give him the sack.
"It must be down here somewhere," said the shorter of the two, in the dark it was hard to make out any further distinguishing features, "I still don't see why we can't just apparate!"
"Because, Sara," said the taller of the two, she had waist length blonde hair that reflected the crescent moonlight from above, "It's a muggle themed party, I thought we should arrive as muggles do!"
"I hardly think muggles fly from London on Thestrals, Luna," said Sara.
"Well, they needed some exercise," Luna argued, "And anyway, would you rather have walked?"
"I hardly think muggles would walk from London either Luna!" Sara retorted.
"Well, if you think you're so clever Sara," Luna snapped, "How would muggles get from London to Merlin-knows-where?"
"By car," replied Sara, "Or bus- we could have taken the Knight Bus even!"
"But we're supposed to be muggles!" said Luna, "I told Rolf he had to wear a suit this evening, and guess what he came downstairs in?"
"A nappy with a rubber chicken on his head?" asked Sara.
"No," said Luna, "Sun colours. Bright yellow robes."
"Bloody hell," Sara cackled, "I thought even you only wore those to weddings! So what did you do?"
"Sent him upstairs to go change," said Luna, "I told him if he didn't come downstairs wearing the most boring suit in existence, I'd hex him until he'd be unable to eat Gurdyroots ever again."
"And we all know what a hardship that would be," Sara muttered under her breath.
They were silent for a while after that, which gave the watcher time to scribble down his notes on what they were saying. He had followed the two after the appeared to land in a field on two invisible flying carpets- at first he had thought he was going mad, until he heard the women speak. They were definitely not in his imagination. What really confused him were these things they kept talking of as though they were common knowledge- Thestrals? Gurdyroots? Apparate? What did these things mean? Perhaps the women were foreign, but this would not explain how they had such a good grasp of english.
"Is that it?" Sara piped up again, pointing to a point some miles away. The point in the distance appeared to be a rickety old building with several lights on. The Watcher knew this house, an eccentric woman and her mad husband lived there- they used to have children, but they'd all moved away, he couldn't blame them. Strange goings on always seemed to happen around that old house, so the villagers tended to steer clear of it all together- yet these two women were going to a party there. They were clearly not locals.
"Could be," replied Luna, "Its hard to tell when its so dark- if only I had a Luminous Wranklfurt!"
"If only," said Sara wryly, "Come on Luna, we're so late now the party will have started hours ago- maybe even over by now! Lets just apparate there!"
"Oh alright," Luna said in defeat, "But what about the Thestrals?"
"I'm pretty sure they can take care of themselves for one evening," said Sara, "Just send them home!"
Luna seemed to tap an invisible animal about a foot away from her, and Sara did the same. There was suddenly a feeling as though something had left the lane- could there have been two invisible animals there? Nothing would surprise him with these two. They suddenly grabbed each others hands, turned sharply on the spot, and disappeared with a loud POP. The watched rubbed his eyes in amazement, yet the women did not reappear, it seemed as though they had literally vanished. But the Watcher knew where they were going- so he ran in the direction of the rickety building over the hill.
When he was within earshot the building, he suddenly found himself rather confused. He had a sudden urge to go and water the flowers in his mother's back garden, that was, until he remembered, when he was around 100 metres from where he had had the urge, that his mother had died some seven months previously. Shaking his head, the watched turned around and headed back in the direction the old house, finding that again, he needed to water his mother's flowers. However this time he remembered immediately that his mother was dead, and so continued on in the direction of the house. He stopped some 50 metres from the open kitchen window, and hid in a bush nearby. He found himself a little cranny through which to watch the antics of inside the house, he could hear the warbling of a woman singing a song he'd never heard before, Oh, come and stir my cauldron, And if you do it rightI'll boil you up some hot, strong love, To keep you warm tonight….. How strange, surely there couldn't be such a popular song that he had never heard before. The watcher suddenly had a suspicion that these were no ordinary people.
"Dinner's served!" called the crazy lady who normally lived in the house, "Ron dear, can you call the children."
"James! Rose! Fred! Roxy! Alice! Lysander! Lorcan! DINNER!" bellowed a cheerful looking red-haired man, but there was a mournful look to his face, "Lysander and Lorcan," he shook his head in despair, "They'll be down in a moment mum- do you need some help with the potatoes?"
The man, who was obviously called Ron, walked over to his mother by the window and withdrew a long stick about the length of his forearm from the pocket of his jeans. He jabbed the stick at the humungous pot of roast potatoes sitting on the draining board, and they rose a foot into the air, as though suspended by invisible strings. He followed them through the air with his stick, and made them land, with a soft thud on the vast kitchen table.
"Just because you have your wand back Ron, it doesn't mean you need to help out with everything," scolded Ron's mother. A wand? What on earth were these people talking about. There was no such thing as wizards! But that trick Ron had performed did seem rather real… at that moment there was a rumbling of footsteps, as seven children arrived in the kitchen all at once. They looked in high spirits as the black haired boy, who couldn't have been older than thirteen burst out laughing. The watcher could barely contain himself, he took out his camera and took a quick picture of the scene- that would be perfect for the story.
"How are we then, James?" said another red-headed man, getting up from the sofa, "Not been up to too much mischief have you?" he added with a wink.
"Of course not Uncle George," said James innocently, "We were just playing in your old bedroom and-" he burst out laughing again.
"-and what?" asked Uncle George, trying to appear stern.
"Look what happened to Rose dad!" burst out another red-headed boy, pointing at the face of the girl standing next to him, it was only then that everyone, including the watcher, noticed the large black eye Rose was sporting.
"Those Telescopes!" cried a bushy-haired woman, leaping up from the sofa, "You said you'd through those out nearly 20 years ago George! How are they still there!"
"Must have missed one," said George, though he was grinning ear to ear, "Lucky for you Rosie, I now know how to remove them- unlike for your mother here, she was stuck with on for a day before I found the remedy-"
"OUCH!" the watcher screamed suddenly as he felt a sharp bite on his lower leg, he looked down to see a disgusting, brown creature knowing on his calf. He shook it off, and ran in the other direction, but not before the family in the house could get a good look at him.
"He's bloody ruined us!" Hermione shouted angrily as she threw the paper on the kitchen table the next morning.
"Who has dear?" asked Ron groggily, looking up from his cornflakes.
"That muggle!" Hermione replied.
"Which?" Ron sighed.
"Last week, remember, at Neville's birthday party!" snapped Hermione, "The man who got bitten by the gnome?"
"Oh him," said Ron, "I thought dad found him, sorted him out-"
"-well he didn't!" Hermione cut him off, shoving that morning's muggle newspaper in front of her husband's face. This wasn't something that had been allowed to happen much over the past few years, as until last summer Ron had been in the Wizarding prison Azkaban, accused of killing his best friend and his sister. Of course, he had been innocent. However it had taken the work of James Potter, Ron and Hermione's 12 year old nephew, to clear his name. Ron looked at the front page of The Times.
THE WATCHER'S TALE
Last week while on one of my evening strolls I came across a rather peculiar sight. In a field, not too far from my home in Ottery St. Catchpole I saw two women. Not terribly extraordinary I hear you say- well you couldn't be more wrong. You see, these women were arriving to this field not by car or by bus, as you might suggest, but by some means of flying. I later discovered this means to be an invisible Horse named 'Thestral'. The women landed in the field, and proceeded to walk along the path nearby, they talked of a party they were planning on going to, and of things unimaginable by any human eye, a 'Gurdyroot' being one of them. All of a sudden these women disappeared, with a quiet POP, into thin air, but not before disclosing the location of their party. I continued along the road until I found myself near to the location, where I found I met with the urge to water my mother's flowers, that was, until I remembered that my mother was dead….
Ron stopped reading there. He couldn't believe it. A muggle had found them, and printed a story about them in the most popular muggle newspaper in the country. He skimmed the rest of the article, picking out words such as wand, Ron and Wizard.
"What does this mean?" Ron asked worriedly.
"What do you bloody think it means, you muppet?" Hermione replied with a grimace, "They'll need more than Obliviators to sort this one out."
I hope you've enjoyed this story so far, so as ever...
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