So I've been out of the world of fan fiction writing for many years now, and this is my grand return, haha! I lost interest due to some negative comments about my previous stories on here and lost the confidence in sharing my creative ideas because some of my HP storylines were called 'dumb' or 'stupid' and my personal favourite, 'this would never happen!' by more then a few.
But thankfully I have much tougher skin now and have rediscovered my love of writing. I love to draw inspiration from many different authors and the characters and worlds to create my stories, which is what has happened here. So if this notion offends anybody you're welcome to stop reading now, but for those who end up staying and enjoying this story I look forward to you're thoughts.
Much love x
Chapter 1: There's Important Business to be Discussed.
The ordinary stench of the East End streets wasn't too bad that evening. The recent two-day downpour was most likely responsible for that. The silence of the night was broken only by the occasional harsh cough of a street beggar, the yelling and laughing when a tavern door was thrown suddenly open, or by the muffled conversations of passing couples. Mist hovered over the slick cobbled pavement reflecting the moonlight of the quiet night. No street flames were visible, the East End wasn't privileged enough to have such luxuries.
Quiet and dark was nice, Sidney mused as he skipped from shadow to shadow along the wet black walls. The collar of his overcoat was turn up high against his neck, his brown hair brushing the edge of it. It still didn't stop the chilly air from cutting him like the sharp point of a knife though. He stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets, hunched his shoulders higher and tipping his capped head downwards.
He turned off the main street into a narrow alleyway ignoring the tiny scrabbling and scratching noises against the pavement along the walls. The rats never bothered him so he never bothered them. Besides, their running would help to muffle his footsteps.
Not that he wasn't silent or slinky he smirked to himself rather smugly; he was beginning to gain the reputation of a jaguar somewhat, he thought so at least. Pouncing on his prey from the silence of the night, one little swipe of his knife and he'd won against a boar or rabbit. Neither was good at evading him when he had a job to do. Once or twice he had even managed to successfully sneak up on his best friend. Tonight however was not one of those nights.
A shadow stirred a few feet ahead of him. But the movement didn't alarm him he would know that shadow anywhere. Without a word James fell into step with him. The two boys continued down the alleyway and Sidney followed James through an old wooden door that appeared around the familiar bend. As quickly as it had opened, spilling warm yellow light into the navy blackness, it shut firmly behind them.
Sidney's eyes adjusted to the swift change in light, finally taking in his older sister's appearance as she stood in front of them. Her dark green bodice was pulled tight and neat against her body with her old grey fraying shawl hung loose against her small frame, and her soft brown-red curls were pulled up onto the top of her head. She grinned at the two boys, her freckled nose and cheeks looking rosy and her dark muddy brown eyes that matched Sidney's shone in the light of the candle she held.
"This way," she muttered, turning and beckoning the boys to follow her. Even her voice was a lovely timbre. Sidney sometimes wished his older sister had been born ugly; her life would have been much more simple if she was ugly. He also noticed that her dress' green skirt hardly touched her ankles anymore.
Her worn brown boots matched both Sidney and James'. Sidney remembered the day their suggogate father had brought home multiple pairs of boots for all his children, muttered about the extreme inconvenience of growing children's feet. But they had all cheered, laughed and covered him in thankful kisses. Sidney nearly shuddered at the mere memory, the thought of kissing said man now would be like kissing one of those scurrying rats outside.
His sister led the boys up the staircase that creaked under their boots on each step. The house was dark save for the small candle guiding their way as they climbed in silence, finally reaching the first landing and entering into the small room that was adjacent to the staircase.
It was much better lit, with candles lining the walls and a fire roaring hot and bright, flickering shadows around the walls and lighting the occupants within. A bed rest against the far corner opposite the door and a cooking bench was next to the fireplace with a small cauldron near. James grinned at Noah and Jim who sat opposite each other at the small table as they drank deeply from their cups of liquor and fell silent when the three youngsters strode in.
"Lizzie, see the lads have a drink too. We have things to discuss," Jim's voice boomed across the small room. Without saying a word Lizzie placed the candle in the middle of the two men and went to prepare drinks for the two boys as Sidney and James joined their companions at the table.
"How goes the night?" Noah grinned widely at his two young pupils. He looked the same as ever. The end of his long crow nose was red, his frail looking skin pulled taunt across his high cheekbones and his fluffy white hair was stuck at odd angles, like he'd been shocked by lightening Sidney always thought. James shrugged off his worn brown overcoat and took off his top hat revealing his almost-black hair underneath. Sidney crossed his feet under the table and leveled their suggogate father with a smirk.
Lizzie joined them at the table after placing a mug of gin and hot water in front of each boy.
"S'alright," Sidney said in answer to Noah's question.
"Quiet," finished James.
"No matter," Noah said, more for Jim's sake who bristled at the thought of the younger men not working hard enough when they could of, "It's a cold night, not much business to be had tonight, except maybe for playing."
"We aren't got the time for playing old man," Jim growled, his teeth brawling forward like an angry dog, "Any word from the girl?"
"She'll be here in two days," Noah said gently fixing the burly man with his clear and steady gaze. His beady green eyes were just as sharp and clear as they had been when he was a young man, "There is no need to be so impatience Jim."
"She'll come through," James added faithfully, "She always does."
"She better," Jim snarled angrily, "otherwise she'll have my fist-"
"Hush Jim!" Lizzie injected from the end of the table just as Sidney's grip on his mug tightened. He'd never admit it to a soul but Jim Clarkson frightened him very much. He hated the man with a burning secret passion, and what was worse his sister was determined to share his bed.
"She's good and clever and she's ours" Lizzie finished in a tone of finality.
The slow conversation was suddenly interrupted by a short knock at the door.
"That'll be Tom," Jim muttered to his lover as she rose to let his business partner in. That is when Sidney noticed something on his sister's wrist, an ugly yellowing mark that marred her pearly white skin. It looked like something or someone had clamped down around her wrist and held on with a death grip.
Sidney glanced at Jim again feeling the hatred swimming inside him, but instead of saying a word he took a deep drink from his gin and hot water. He glanced across the table and wondered if James had noticed the bruise too. His friend was very receptive when it came to Lizzie. They knew Jim never beat her around her face, only in places he knew she could hide. Bastard, Sidney snarled to himself as he drank again.
"Hello, hello, hello!" cried Tom as he joyfully clambered into the room, big laughing smile and flaming red hair that stuck out in a mess of frizzy curls under his top hat. He slapped Sidney on the back, ruffled James' hair, and sat down next to Jim with such ease; it was as if he owned the place.
Sidney felt somebody slip into the seat next to him. He knew whom it was without needing to look across, he could smell her perfume. Alice's golden ringlets shone in the candlelight, her breasts were pushed high against her chest, her burgundy dress was pulled taut and her pretty face was clean and lively with attention.
As Lizzie returned too and Noah grinned around the table, "Well isn't this a lovely little gathering."
Jim snorted in somewhat disgust as Sidney and James grinned at each other, Alice rolled her eyes but with a slight smile on her red painted lips, and Lizzie retrieved more glasses with liquor for the newcomers.
"Here Here!" Tom agreed happily and pulled out his pipe from the inside of his lavish coat, "Elizabeth love, just bring the bottle will ya? We've not all had a nice chat up in a long while! Let's drink and be merry! Who has a light?"
"There's important business to be discussed," Jim replied giving his oldest friend a hard look from the corner of his eye.
Tom, however, wasn't in any way bothered by Jim's hard tone nor was he in the mood for serious talk; he simply waved the bottle of gin in the air like he was flourishing the flag for King and country, "Aye! But who said you can't drink and talk together?! Surely you can handle both Clarkson?"
Sidney smirked at Tom's hidden dig, James held out his empty mug to Tom ignoring Noah's reproaching look, Alice softly brushed her fingers against Sidney's thigh under the table and Lizzie sighed softly, watching the scene unfold, keeping silent about the second bottle of gin safely tucked away in the top cabinet above the fireplace. So without another word Jim Clarkson allowed Tom Fletcher to refill his cup and their little party was underway.
000
Hermione Granger readjusted her worn book bag over her shoulder with a heavy sigh as she struggled to keep hold of the three heavy volumes currently in her arms. Maybe borrowing eleven books wasn't such a clever idea she now thought as she made her way passed the doors to the Great Hall, although at the time she couldn't part with a single title. Each had a specific chapter dedicated to the use of rosewood in sleeping potions. She needed to better understand the pros and cons of adding the root to the potion, was it an essential ingredient or not? Personally, she did think the root made the results of the induced sleep more effective, it sent the drinker into a deeper slumber then what their conscious allowed. Although some had been know to slip into death from such results.
This essay was worth 40% of her overall mark for her fifth year in Potions, along with the presentation that was to be given in front of her fellow Gryffindors, the Slytherins, and the ill-tempered Potions Master at the beginning of the new term. Not something she was particularly looking forward to, if she was honest. But this was her all-important OWLs, she was determined to stay focused, no matter what.
The first term wasn't even over yet and Hermione Granger was already making notes for essays to be handed in once the new term started. Harry and Ron, as per usual, thought she was mad, but expected her madness nonetheless. And maybe she was mad, she thought as she readjusted her book bag again whilst yanking out a piece of hair caught under her strap.
"Well, well," drawled a voice behind her, "If it isn't the Mudblood with her ugly face and ugly hair. I was wondering what had stunk up the corridor."
Hermione whipped around to face her school nemesis and his gang of brainless goons. His Perfect badge shone brightly in the winter light sitting proudly obnoxious upon his robes. Draco Malfoy's pale pointed face smirked at her, a nasty look burning in his eyes. Hermione simply rolled her eyes and glared. Goodness knows what Dumbledore was thinking in giving him the privilege of Perfect.
"Shove off ferret," Ron snapped as he and Harry strode past the group of Slytherins from the Great Hall and dinner. Harry accompanied Ron's comment by throwing a dark look in Malfoy's direction just for good measure as the boys followed Hermione down the corridor away from the Great Hall. With the joyful Christmas season fast upon them the Great Hall was a shining beacon of golden light, a falling white snow ceiling, giant red, gold and white sparkling Christmas trees, the mouthwatering scent of rich fruit cake and hanging mistletoe that made girls blush and boys jostle and laugh.
Hermione loved Christmas at Hogwarts; it was definitely her favourite season, she always felt so happy. She quickly brushed aside her encounter with Malfoy as the Golden Trio, as they had been dubbed recently, entered the Gryffindor common room. They found a table by the fireplace for the evening, Hermione began to unload her library books as Harry open his bag with a sigh, his black hair flopping in front of his eyes. Hermione hide a smile, she knew Professor McGonagall had given him his Transfiguration essay back to be rewritten with her edited notes, she was sure she would be lending a hand to him at some point this evening. Ron simply ignored his school duties and pulled out a small gadget belonging to his twin brothers' shop.
Hermione opened her first library book on the chapter of rosewood but she didn't start reading just yet, she had a more pressing matter to attend to.
"Harry?" she said softly
"Hm?" Harry didn't look up from his essay; his brow was already scrunched in confusion over the first of McGonagall's notes.
"Is it alright if I borrow the invisibility cloak tonight?"
Ron stopped playing with his toy and Harry looked up from his essay quill still in hand, "Why?" he asked in concern, "is everything okay?"
Hermione gestured to the chapter in front of her, "Rosewood."
Ron and Harry shared a look with each other as Ron said, "That's a pretty serious magical weed killer. What do you want with it?"
"Is everything alright?" Harry asked again, taking the better approach then Ron.
"Yes, of course," Hermione smiled smoothly, "The purest form I'll be able to find grows in the forbidden forest, and obviously I can't be seen going in there, so I was hoping I could borrow the cloak. Just this once Harry and I'll give it straight back! I promise."
"You know its dangerous right?" said Ron, "Going into that forest. Why not just get Hagrid to get you some?"
"Because it needs to be me Ronald," Hermione sighed, "If Hagrid crushes the flowers in a particular way, or he doesn't pick enough of the root, or picks the flowers without the whole of the roots attached, my experiments will be a waste of time! I'm going to use it to make a sleeping potion first with the rosewood and then without, seeing the effects the root makes on the colour of the potion, any physical effects it has on the body, psychological effects, taste and texture of the potion. I've seen the flowers in the forest before, I know exactly where they are and they aren't that far in. If it makes you feel better I'll keep the cloak on the whole time."
"And who exactly are you planning on using these potions on Hermione?" said Ron incredulously, "you know you could murder someone if it goes wrong?! My Mum uses Rosewood for our garden!"
"Only if the brewing time is done wrong!" Hermione argued back at Ron beginning to feel her patience fraying a little. Instead she turned a pleading face to Harry, "Please Harry, this essay and presentation is 40% of our OWL grade for Potions! I really need the rosewood."
"Yeah alright," Harry's face finally stretched into a small smile before he hesitantly added, "Just-just be careful okay?"
Hermione grinned back at him and let out a genuine sigh of relief, "Thank-you Harry! Really!"
Ron finally let out a breathy laugh, "Look at you Hermione! Breaking the rules and everything! I must say, I'm a little proud."
Hermione simply rolled her eyes in response and turned back down to the words on the page in front of her. Harry returned to his essay too, shielding the grin that was peaking onto his face.
And now, Hermione thought nervously as her stomach began to twist, the hard work begins…
End Chapter 1.