Title: "The Life and Times of Filius Flitwick," a work in progress
Author: jon jones
Rating: G, but that won't last for long. Rating will be changed depending upon future chapters.
Disclaimer: Filius Flitwick and most other characters and settings were created by J. K. Rowling. i claim neither authorship nor ownership of Harry Potter and his respective universe. i do, however, claim ownership of all original materials.
Warnings: You should be aware that slash (which is to say, homosexual relationships and/or intimate encounters) WILL be a part of this story at some point. Although there is none as of yet, you are advised to not get involved with this story now if you think that some slash might piss you off later. This story contains no spoilers--yet.
Author's Notes: This story was triggered by my extreme disappointment at the lack of fan fiction devoted to Professor Flitwick, and by my extreme lack of anything better to do with my time. i hope you enjoy it, invite you to issue feedback, and thank you for investing the time to read it.
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Bit One
Filius Flitwick learned little from his professors during his time at Hogwarts Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Though he knew nearly every answer to nearly every question, he seldom offered them. He paid very little attention but received among the highest scores in the school. He had been delighted to find an enormous library in the castle, and he took it upon himself to read the entire library. There he found books on any subject he could imagine, and was often found curled in one of the narrow windowsills facing the Dark Forest with an enormous text detailing the goblin uprisings of fourteenth-century Norway or discussing the practical uses of fwooper feathers in potion-making. Though, again, he learned little from his professors, his knowledge grew steadily vaster due to the boundless compilation of books in the school's possession. He read and he read, his young mind committing to memory nearly everything it encountered.
The boy stayed at the school for years, all the while reading. His marks maintained their position at the top, but he was never made Prefect, due solely to his lack of interaction with his peers. He had his share of lab partners, always performing his duties in class, but never giving them a second thought once out of the domains of his professors. There was one time, true enough, when an oversized Slytherin had tripped over him and attempted to use him for Bludger practice, but Filius gave his wand a little flick and sent the large boy flying into the lake. Filius straightened his navy-and-cream striped tie, picked up his book from the grass, and went back to his reading.
He spent his summers alone in the Ravenclaw Common Room, his legs dangling as he sat in the delicate queen-backed armchairs with an enormous book perched in his lap. He would fall asleep beside the fountain in the centre of the circular room, and dream of his mother. He could remember, when he strained hard enough, his father, but Filius gave him little thought. He'd grown up without a father, and saw no reason to dwell on such things.
He was quite astounded, then, when in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, he received an owl during lunch (it was his second-ever letter, so it came as a surprise even before he'd had a chance to read it) from Gringott's, the wizarding bank. It seemed that his father had just died, and all that had belonged to the goblin was now, legally, in Filius' possession. He came to learn that his father had accumulated quite the fortune betting on crup-fights (which had yet to be banned by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures), and was most amused to hear that he had died from a nasty dugbog bite that'd gotten infected.
Upon his graduation, Filius took up residence in a tiny little flat above Literoy and Emot's, a small bookstore in Diagon Alley, and worked in the shop to fill the time when he wasn't reading. While working, he met a great many people as they came bustling in and out of the store, and grew slowly to appreciate the uniqueness of each. And from this newfound fascination with people came a most startling revelation about himself: people seemed to like him.
Author: jon jones
Rating: G, but that won't last for long. Rating will be changed depending upon future chapters.
Disclaimer: Filius Flitwick and most other characters and settings were created by J. K. Rowling. i claim neither authorship nor ownership of Harry Potter and his respective universe. i do, however, claim ownership of all original materials.
Warnings: You should be aware that slash (which is to say, homosexual relationships and/or intimate encounters) WILL be a part of this story at some point. Although there is none as of yet, you are advised to not get involved with this story now if you think that some slash might piss you off later. This story contains no spoilers--yet.
Author's Notes: This story was triggered by my extreme disappointment at the lack of fan fiction devoted to Professor Flitwick, and by my extreme lack of anything better to do with my time. i hope you enjoy it, invite you to issue feedback, and thank you for investing the time to read it.
---------------------
Bit One
Filius Flitwick learned little from his professors during his time at Hogwarts Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Though he knew nearly every answer to nearly every question, he seldom offered them. He paid very little attention but received among the highest scores in the school. He had been delighted to find an enormous library in the castle, and he took it upon himself to read the entire library. There he found books on any subject he could imagine, and was often found curled in one of the narrow windowsills facing the Dark Forest with an enormous text detailing the goblin uprisings of fourteenth-century Norway or discussing the practical uses of fwooper feathers in potion-making. Though, again, he learned little from his professors, his knowledge grew steadily vaster due to the boundless compilation of books in the school's possession. He read and he read, his young mind committing to memory nearly everything it encountered.
The boy stayed at the school for years, all the while reading. His marks maintained their position at the top, but he was never made Prefect, due solely to his lack of interaction with his peers. He had his share of lab partners, always performing his duties in class, but never giving them a second thought once out of the domains of his professors. There was one time, true enough, when an oversized Slytherin had tripped over him and attempted to use him for Bludger practice, but Filius gave his wand a little flick and sent the large boy flying into the lake. Filius straightened his navy-and-cream striped tie, picked up his book from the grass, and went back to his reading.
He spent his summers alone in the Ravenclaw Common Room, his legs dangling as he sat in the delicate queen-backed armchairs with an enormous book perched in his lap. He would fall asleep beside the fountain in the centre of the circular room, and dream of his mother. He could remember, when he strained hard enough, his father, but Filius gave him little thought. He'd grown up without a father, and saw no reason to dwell on such things.
He was quite astounded, then, when in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, he received an owl during lunch (it was his second-ever letter, so it came as a surprise even before he'd had a chance to read it) from Gringott's, the wizarding bank. It seemed that his father had just died, and all that had belonged to the goblin was now, legally, in Filius' possession. He came to learn that his father had accumulated quite the fortune betting on crup-fights (which had yet to be banned by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures), and was most amused to hear that he had died from a nasty dugbog bite that'd gotten infected.
Upon his graduation, Filius took up residence in a tiny little flat above Literoy and Emot's, a small bookstore in Diagon Alley, and worked in the shop to fill the time when he wasn't reading. While working, he met a great many people as they came bustling in and out of the store, and grew slowly to appreciate the uniqueness of each. And from this newfound fascination with people came a most startling revelation about himself: people seemed to like him.