Squib Summer
A Harry Potter fan-fic
By Ozma and Jelsemium
A sequel to Squib Caretaker
Chapter Two: The Squib and the Dursleys
All recognizable characters copyrighted by J.K. Rowling.
The less recognizable creatures are based on folklore and might be under
your bed.
This was even better than she'd hoped when she'd started her hunt today.
The Boy Who Lived! The Boy Who'd Defeated that Hissy Faced Upstart! He
had some sweet magic indeed! Better yet, she could give the remains to
the so called dark lord and maybe he'd feel obligated to repay her.
But first, she'd have to get her prize home safely. She needed to wait
until the inconvenient relatives left. Then a simple leash charm should
be enough to get the boy to follow. She walked back behind the dust bin
and looked at the crumpled figure. Such a child, for all his power and
reputation, she gloated. So easy to deceive. So easy to overpower. She
ran her tongue across her depleted venom sac. It reacted to magic. The
more the boy tried to use, the more strongly the venom would affect him.
It would also speed the decomposition of the body, once the boy was
dead. Likely no human would ever discover what had befallen him.
The grey woman watched the relatives leave, without more than a cursory
look around. Looked like the woman wasn't even going to regret her hasty
words. She kicked at some scrawny cat that had come nosing around, no
doubt after fish. Then she started weaving the leash charm around the
boy to ensure his cooperation.
*******
"Yes, I hear you. Not so loud, my sweet…" I moaned, dragging my eyes
open again.
Time had passed. I wasn't sure how much. Mrs. Norris and I were alone in
the dim malodorous alley. For all the notice that the passerby's on the
busy street nearby took of us, we might have been invisible.
Sitting up slowly, I clutched at my head. My right temple was sticky
with blood and a tender lump had started to swell.
Mrs. Norris rubbed her small head against my side.
"Potter is safe with his blood relations. Nothing should be able to get
through that spell…" I said.
Mrs. Norris yowled; a long heartsick wail. She waited while I stood,
using the nearest brick wall to steady myself.
When we started off again, I had to move slowly. My head throbbed as I
felt for the traces of either the powerful spell surrounding Potter's
aunt and cousin or the Dark stench of the hungry creature that had been
pursuing Potter.
Mrs. Norris moved slowly too though it was clear that she wanted to run.
I wished that I could run. What if we were already too late?
"He's defeated the Dark Lord any number of times. He's escaped from
Death Eaters, slain a Basilisk and knocked out a Mountain Troll…" I said
to Mrs. Norris, trying to quell the fear rising inside me.
Now the Muggles on the street were regarding me with mingled pity and
trepidation. I received a few looks of disgust as well. I supposed that
their feelings were understandable. The stench of the alley clung to me
and there was blood drying on my head. I moved unsteadily, as if I'd
been drinking something much stronger than gillywater this morning.
At least the Muggles were stepping out of my way now.
I could feel no trace of the Dark creature. And, when I first sensed the
spell around Potter's family again, I almost didn't recognize it. The
spell was diminished now, an echo of what I'd sensed before.
Confused, I allowed the thin blonde woman, her arms now full of
packages, to pass me by. She'd given me a very wide berth and a look of
profound disgust. The fat blond boy was lumbering behind her, his
expression sulky.
I looked past him down the street, anxious for the sight of a thin,
shabby figure with wild hair, round glasses and drab, ill-fitting
clothes. But there was no sign of Harry Potter. Without Potter's
presence to act as a catalyst the spell had gone dormant. And the young
wizard was now vulnerable, without the protection of his blood
relatives!
Frightened and angry, I reached out and grabbed the blond boy's meaty
arm.
"Where is he?" I hissed.
"W-Who?" The boy asked fearfully, struggling to loosen my grip on his
arm. He didn't succeed. Maybe I wasn't as strong as that Dark hungry
creature, but I am stronger than I look.
"YOUR COUSIN!" I shouted.
I didn't yell Potter's name out loud, not sure who or what else might be
listening. "He's supposed to be with you! You're supposed to be looking
after him!"
Nearby, a voice shrieked, "Dudley!"
Potter's aunt had dropped her packages. She was swinging her handbag at
my head. I dodged and she struck my shoulder instead.
What did she have in there… a small bludger? My arm went numb, forcing
me to release her great lump of a son.
Then Potter's aunt screamed shrilly. Mrs. Norris had just sunk her claws
into the woman's leg.
"Mum!" The boy bellowed, grabbing for my cat. He was much too slow. All
he received was a nasty set of scratches across one pudgy hand.
I managed to pick up Mrs. Norris, cradling her against my chest
protectively as I tried to think what to do.
Obviously Potter's relatives had managed to lose him somehow! They must
be even more worried about him than I was. No wonder they were so bad-
tempered. Well, fighting among ourselves wouldn't help matters. I tried
not to glare at them.
Potter's aunt was glowering enough for everyone. The venom and malice in
her eyes when she looked at me and Mrs. Norris would have even impressed
Professor Snape.
"Stay back, Dudley!" she hissed, stepping protectively in front of her
huge son.
The resemblance between this grim woman and little Lily Evans wasn't
particularly strong. Still, there was something in the way that she
stood and in the fierce, determined way that she held her head that
reminded me of the pretty red-headed girl I had seen at Hogwarts years
ago.
I thought of Lily, shielding Harry with the very last of her strength.
My expression would have softened, but for what Harry's aunt said next.
"You're one of THEM, aren't you? Those FREAKS?"
I flinched as if she'd taken another swipe at me with her handbag. Of
course, Lily's sister must have seen the magic of true wizards. She'd
been entrusted with the care of The Boy Who Lived, hadn't she? I didn't
know how she knew that I was nothing but a Squib, but I couldn't blame
her for thinking that I would be of no use to her in the search for the
missing Potter. However, I didn't intend to tolerate rudeness. She was
worried about her nephew, but that was no excuse.
"I may have no proper magic of own, Madam. But few witches or wizards
would be so ill-mannered as to call me a freak."
"Did you just have the effrontery to call me *ill-mannered?*" Potter's
aunt demanded incredulously. The temperature around us seemed to have
dropped several degrees.
Professor Snape is the only other person I know who can do that. It's
not magic, it's a matter of personality. Having survived Snape's glares
and sarcasm for years, I wasn't so easily cowed.
"Would you prefer to be called `unrefined?' Or `discourteous?' Those
terms would do as well," I retorted.
"How dare you! You filthy, smelly …TRAMP!"
"Mum…" the boy, Dudley, said, eyeing me. "He said that he has no proper
magic. Maybe he can't hurt us."
I didn't like the way this lumpish youth was looking at me. "Magic or
not, the witch and wizard brats at the Castle all live in fear of me," I
snarled. "And I don't need to be able to cast spells to deal with you,
you great, soft pudding!"
I looked as fierce as I possibly could. It was quite effective. Dudley
shrank back, beside his mother.
The aunt wasn't so easy to intimidate. She could take on a Basilisk,
with a glare like that. (My money would still be on the Basilisk, but
the giant snake would certainly know that it had been in a fight.)
"I will forgive you your bad manners, Madam, if you will forgive me
mine," I said, curtly. "I am Argus Filch, Caretaker at Hogwarts. I know
that you must be the sister of Lily Evans Potter…"
"I am Petunia Dursley," she said. Her tone was even frostier than mine.
I gave her a brief nod, struggling to be more polite. "I can assure you
that my goal is the same as yours. We must find the boy quickly. Where
and when did you last see your nephew?"
Her face twisted angrily. "The ungrateful brat refused to wait for us in
the spot where I told him, quite plainly, to wait! He knew what the
consequences would be if he chose to wander off. I informed him that he
would have to make his own way home as a punishment if he got himself
lost!"
"I'm a great believer in consequences myself," I said. "Ordinarily. But
your nephew may have gone missing for reasons beyond his control.
There's something after him. Something terrible!"
Her face twisted even more, her lips drawing back from her teeth in a
snarl. Even Dudley stepped back.
"Something terrible from *your* world of freaks and monsters, no doubt!"
Petunia Evans Dursley hissed.
"Wasn't it bad enough to have him dumped on our doorstep without so much
as a by-your-leave? He's been turning our lives upside down ever since!
Years of shame and embarrassment, and strange mishaps, terrifying
accidents, and the boy never showing us a bit of gratitude for the food
we give him or the clothes on his back…"
I thought of Potter's thin body, and the ill-fitting, shabby clothes.
"Am I expected to comb all of London for him now, to save him from the
sort of trouble that ordinary, decent people should never have to face?"
she snarled.
"What can I -a mere Muggle- as YOUR sort call us, possibly do to save
him!?"
More appalled than I'd ever been in my life, I struggled to find my
voice. "You're his aunt, his own flesh and blood…" I said. "All you have
to do is be there! There's a spell…"
"Do NOT," she spat, "speak to me of SPELLS! Dudley and I have already
gotten in the way of enough dreadful and humiliating spells to last us a
lifetime! You're from that… that PLACE he goes to. You help him!"
Turning on her heel, she marched back to where she'd dropped her
packages.
A number of people were staring. This did not improve her mood.
"What happened to your magic, then? Did you lose it?" It was Dudley. The
boy was looking at me curiously.
"I was born this way!" I growled, still staring in disbelief at the
abhorrent creature he had for a mother.
"Do you mean that you're …normal?"
"No! Of course I'm not normal, boy! Didn't I just say so?"
"Because you're one of THEM and you can't do magic?"
"Yes," I said, making an effort to soften my tone a bit. The poor great
lump was obviously simple-minded. "Your Aunt Lily was born into a Muggle
family, wasn't she? Sometimes, though not very often, a wizard and a
witch will have a child who is like me."
Squibs aren't exactly like Muggles, but I wasn't about to attempt to
explain the difference.
"And they're afraid of you? Those kids at Potter's school? Why? What do
you do to them?"
I gave him another glare.
He flinched.
"The Headmaster does not allow me to chain them in the dungeons," I said
gruffly. "I make them scrub, sweep, polish and dust."
"We're not supposed to lock Potter in the cupboard under the stairs any
more," Dudley said. "But Mum's always made him clean a lot of things.
Ever since he was little."
Suddenly, I felt quite ill.
"Come along, Duddy-dear! We have to find a taxi! Let that nasty old
tramp worry about your ungrateful cousin!"
Petunia Dursley, packages in hand, was trying to sound as if she wasn't
still furious. I could hear the rage under her sugary-sweet tone.
"Potter's probably okay," Dudley muttered. "He's stronger than he looks.
Faster too."
"Diddy-Darling! Come along now!"
Dudley spoke to me, under his breath.
"Potter was supposed to wait for us in front of Beau Brummels. It's down
that way." The boy pointed.
"Thank you," I said numbly, holding Mrs. Norris as if I could draw
strength from her.
Dudley was already lumbering away after his mother.
To Be Continued...
Author's Notes:
Ozma and Jelsemium would like to thank everyone who commented on chapter
one of "Squib Summer!"
Shadowycat: Thanks!! -Ozma
Yes, Harry blew it. At least he DID resist the temptation to try and
find the Leaky Cauldron based on the Grey Stalker's directions.
-Jelsemium
emma: Thank you!!-Ozma
Thanks, if you like my style, maybe you'll like my other stories. -
Jelsemium
Darklady: Thank you!! Ozma & Jelsemium
Minnowgirl: Thank you!! - Ozma
Thanks for the kind words and for saying what parts especially worked
for you - Jelsemium
Saphron: Thank you!! From Ozma & Jelsemium
Yes, poor Filch is developing a talent for getting himself into trouble,
isn't he?
Andrea13: Thank you!! But, cliffhangers are only bad and scary in OTHER
people's stories. The "Sphinx, Harpy and Bean-Sidhe walk into a bar..."
line cracked me up!- Ozma
Cliffhangers are my very best friend in the whole world, at least when
I'm writing the story -Jelsemium (Oops, how'd we let that Knockturn
Alley/Nocturne Alley thing slip by?) -Jelsemium
alla: Thank you!! Ozma & Jelsemium
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! -Ozma
Thanks for the kind words and for saying what parts especially worked
for you - Jelsemium
Falco: Thank you!! -Ozma
Thanks, I do like creating alternate villains for Harry to play with.
I'm so nice to him. -Jelsemium
Rabbit-and-Jinx!! Thank you!! Oooh! Screams!! (God, I miss the
screaming... ;-) ) The spell around Harry, Petunia and Dudley drowned
everything else out and give Filch's senses the magical equivalent of
those bright spots you see after someone takes a picture and you can't
see much else for a little while afterwards. -Ozma
Thanks for the comments about the roster of predators, fellow evil
cliff-hanger writer. Tom probably has good protection. Besides, no one
would eat the bartender! How would they get any service? As for just
eating Harry's magic ... it's like that pound of flesh thing. How do you
get it without taking a lot of other stuff? Only in this case, the Grey
Stalker never agreed to NOT take anything else. Thanks for the comment
about the Shepherd's Pie. I could have resisted that, but I didn't see
why I should - Jelsemium
Persephone Kore: Thank you!! The idea of a drunk Nagini is funny, isn't
it? The Grey Stalker is Jelsemium's adaption/invention. -Ozma
Actually, you didn't miss anything. Ozma put the first chapter and the
prologue up at the same time. Thanks for saying what parts worked for
you. The Grey Stalker is mostly my own invention, an adaption from the
ubiquitous Bogeyman/Nursery Bogey/Thing that Parents Threaten Children
With To Make Them Behave. I figured that Quirrel had to have taught
*something* in his class, and the `keep a civil tongue in your head' is
one I've picked up from many folk-tales where the polite daughter gets
rewarded and the rude daughter gets hers --Jelsemium
AET: Thank you!! From Ozma & Jelsemium
Jelsemium: Hi, there, pardner! Look at all these really nice reviews
we've got!! -Ozma
Ozma thanks everyone who reviewed chapter six of "Squib Apprentice."
oO WTH: Thank you!! Hmmm. Filch and Madam Pince? Honestly, I'd never
thought about them before I read your comment. Now, I can see them
bickering and bantering; two strong-willed people who have much in
common and are accustomed to being in charge of their respective
domains. Madam Pince may yet show up in a story of mine...
Alia: Thank you!! I have bits and pieces of ideas for a Marauder-era
Filch story, but no complete plots yet.
Yes, Snape seems like someone who was abused as a child to me, too.
Alchemine: Thank you!! New chapters of "Squib Apprentice" may show up. I
keep thinking that the story's done and then I get more ideas.
Dumbledore's treating Filch like an adult meant even more to Filch
because of his "handicap." Filch had felt as if he'd never truly be
considered `of age' because of his lack of magic.
Shadowycat: Thank you!! Pringle honestly thinks that he's being too soft
with Filch. (Why, Pringle hardly ever beats the clumsy brat!) I love the
idea of the feuding suits of armor too!
No, at that point in time Dumbledore doesn't know that Filch can sense
other people's magic. He may know other Squibs who can do it, but Filch
doesn't discuss his own abilities with anyone until he's much, much
older.
Cloudshape: Thank you!! I'm glad that you found the Filch-section!! I'm
also intrigued by the relationship between just-reformed Death Eater
Severus, and Filch, but have had no complete plot ideas yet. It's not
likely that Filch would know what Snape had been or what he had done.
Filch is perceptive though, and would definitely have sensed the younger
man's bitterness, sorrow and shame.
Saphron: Thank you!! When Filch was young Dumbledore didn't know that
Filch could sense magic. Filch never considered anything he could do to
be an actual "ability."
Deu: Thank you!! Yes, you can translate my stories into German!! I'm
pleased and honored that you'd like to!!
Spark-Chick: Thank you!! Eeeep! The thought of encountering Grindelwald
has poor young Filch cowering under his bed...
Virginia: Thank you!!
A.Lee: Thank you!!
J. Odell: Thank you!! My ideas about Grindelwald are strongly influenced
by Alchemine's excellent stories.
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! Yes, Filch is stubborn. The idea of being a
Gryffindor has Filch shaking his head in dismay. Gryffindors are so
reckless! Charging into danger without a thought for the consequences!
Which forces more sensible people to go rushing after them to make
certain they don't get themselves killed!
Andrea13: Thank you!! Yes, that was the first time that anyone had ever
treated Filch like an adult. Dumbledore won Filch's respect and trust
forever.
Persephone Kore: Thank you!! Yes, it would be really startling to wear
armor that has its own ideas about how to win a battle...
Ack!! The thought of Filch encountering the Basilisk when he was working
on the Castle's plumbing sends chills down my spine. Poor Filch. He's
luckier than he realizes.
Yes, Filch and Pringle are a good match where temperament is concerned.
I'd imagine that it was very hard for Pringle to find an apprentice that
would work compatably with him. He would have been BRUTAL with any
apprentice who had stronger magic than his own. Filch didn't make the
old man feel inferior or intimidated. In the beginning, Pringle was
insulted that Dippet believed a Squib was capable of doing his job. But
Filch was so nervous and insecure that Pringle eventually ended up
feeling protective, though he never would have admitted it.
Aurendel: Thank you!! Squib Summer is here!
Lyansidde: Thank you!! Yes, I agree that part of the reason that Filch
has survived so long is that no one was aware of what he could do.
A Harry Potter fan-fic
By Ozma and Jelsemium
A sequel to Squib Caretaker
Chapter Two: The Squib and the Dursleys
All recognizable characters copyrighted by J.K. Rowling.
The less recognizable creatures are based on folklore and might be under
your bed.
This was even better than she'd hoped when she'd started her hunt today.
The Boy Who Lived! The Boy Who'd Defeated that Hissy Faced Upstart! He
had some sweet magic indeed! Better yet, she could give the remains to
the so called dark lord and maybe he'd feel obligated to repay her.
But first, she'd have to get her prize home safely. She needed to wait
until the inconvenient relatives left. Then a simple leash charm should
be enough to get the boy to follow. She walked back behind the dust bin
and looked at the crumpled figure. Such a child, for all his power and
reputation, she gloated. So easy to deceive. So easy to overpower. She
ran her tongue across her depleted venom sac. It reacted to magic. The
more the boy tried to use, the more strongly the venom would affect him.
It would also speed the decomposition of the body, once the boy was
dead. Likely no human would ever discover what had befallen him.
The grey woman watched the relatives leave, without more than a cursory
look around. Looked like the woman wasn't even going to regret her hasty
words. She kicked at some scrawny cat that had come nosing around, no
doubt after fish. Then she started weaving the leash charm around the
boy to ensure his cooperation.
*******
"Yes, I hear you. Not so loud, my sweet…" I moaned, dragging my eyes
open again.
Time had passed. I wasn't sure how much. Mrs. Norris and I were alone in
the dim malodorous alley. For all the notice that the passerby's on the
busy street nearby took of us, we might have been invisible.
Sitting up slowly, I clutched at my head. My right temple was sticky
with blood and a tender lump had started to swell.
Mrs. Norris rubbed her small head against my side.
"Potter is safe with his blood relations. Nothing should be able to get
through that spell…" I said.
Mrs. Norris yowled; a long heartsick wail. She waited while I stood,
using the nearest brick wall to steady myself.
When we started off again, I had to move slowly. My head throbbed as I
felt for the traces of either the powerful spell surrounding Potter's
aunt and cousin or the Dark stench of the hungry creature that had been
pursuing Potter.
Mrs. Norris moved slowly too though it was clear that she wanted to run.
I wished that I could run. What if we were already too late?
"He's defeated the Dark Lord any number of times. He's escaped from
Death Eaters, slain a Basilisk and knocked out a Mountain Troll…" I said
to Mrs. Norris, trying to quell the fear rising inside me.
Now the Muggles on the street were regarding me with mingled pity and
trepidation. I received a few looks of disgust as well. I supposed that
their feelings were understandable. The stench of the alley clung to me
and there was blood drying on my head. I moved unsteadily, as if I'd
been drinking something much stronger than gillywater this morning.
At least the Muggles were stepping out of my way now.
I could feel no trace of the Dark creature. And, when I first sensed the
spell around Potter's family again, I almost didn't recognize it. The
spell was diminished now, an echo of what I'd sensed before.
Confused, I allowed the thin blonde woman, her arms now full of
packages, to pass me by. She'd given me a very wide berth and a look of
profound disgust. The fat blond boy was lumbering behind her, his
expression sulky.
I looked past him down the street, anxious for the sight of a thin,
shabby figure with wild hair, round glasses and drab, ill-fitting
clothes. But there was no sign of Harry Potter. Without Potter's
presence to act as a catalyst the spell had gone dormant. And the young
wizard was now vulnerable, without the protection of his blood
relatives!
Frightened and angry, I reached out and grabbed the blond boy's meaty
arm.
"Where is he?" I hissed.
"W-Who?" The boy asked fearfully, struggling to loosen my grip on his
arm. He didn't succeed. Maybe I wasn't as strong as that Dark hungry
creature, but I am stronger than I look.
"YOUR COUSIN!" I shouted.
I didn't yell Potter's name out loud, not sure who or what else might be
listening. "He's supposed to be with you! You're supposed to be looking
after him!"
Nearby, a voice shrieked, "Dudley!"
Potter's aunt had dropped her packages. She was swinging her handbag at
my head. I dodged and she struck my shoulder instead.
What did she have in there… a small bludger? My arm went numb, forcing
me to release her great lump of a son.
Then Potter's aunt screamed shrilly. Mrs. Norris had just sunk her claws
into the woman's leg.
"Mum!" The boy bellowed, grabbing for my cat. He was much too slow. All
he received was a nasty set of scratches across one pudgy hand.
I managed to pick up Mrs. Norris, cradling her against my chest
protectively as I tried to think what to do.
Obviously Potter's relatives had managed to lose him somehow! They must
be even more worried about him than I was. No wonder they were so bad-
tempered. Well, fighting among ourselves wouldn't help matters. I tried
not to glare at them.
Potter's aunt was glowering enough for everyone. The venom and malice in
her eyes when she looked at me and Mrs. Norris would have even impressed
Professor Snape.
"Stay back, Dudley!" she hissed, stepping protectively in front of her
huge son.
The resemblance between this grim woman and little Lily Evans wasn't
particularly strong. Still, there was something in the way that she
stood and in the fierce, determined way that she held her head that
reminded me of the pretty red-headed girl I had seen at Hogwarts years
ago.
I thought of Lily, shielding Harry with the very last of her strength.
My expression would have softened, but for what Harry's aunt said next.
"You're one of THEM, aren't you? Those FREAKS?"
I flinched as if she'd taken another swipe at me with her handbag. Of
course, Lily's sister must have seen the magic of true wizards. She'd
been entrusted with the care of The Boy Who Lived, hadn't she? I didn't
know how she knew that I was nothing but a Squib, but I couldn't blame
her for thinking that I would be of no use to her in the search for the
missing Potter. However, I didn't intend to tolerate rudeness. She was
worried about her nephew, but that was no excuse.
"I may have no proper magic of own, Madam. But few witches or wizards
would be so ill-mannered as to call me a freak."
"Did you just have the effrontery to call me *ill-mannered?*" Potter's
aunt demanded incredulously. The temperature around us seemed to have
dropped several degrees.
Professor Snape is the only other person I know who can do that. It's
not magic, it's a matter of personality. Having survived Snape's glares
and sarcasm for years, I wasn't so easily cowed.
"Would you prefer to be called `unrefined?' Or `discourteous?' Those
terms would do as well," I retorted.
"How dare you! You filthy, smelly …TRAMP!"
"Mum…" the boy, Dudley, said, eyeing me. "He said that he has no proper
magic. Maybe he can't hurt us."
I didn't like the way this lumpish youth was looking at me. "Magic or
not, the witch and wizard brats at the Castle all live in fear of me," I
snarled. "And I don't need to be able to cast spells to deal with you,
you great, soft pudding!"
I looked as fierce as I possibly could. It was quite effective. Dudley
shrank back, beside his mother.
The aunt wasn't so easy to intimidate. She could take on a Basilisk,
with a glare like that. (My money would still be on the Basilisk, but
the giant snake would certainly know that it had been in a fight.)
"I will forgive you your bad manners, Madam, if you will forgive me
mine," I said, curtly. "I am Argus Filch, Caretaker at Hogwarts. I know
that you must be the sister of Lily Evans Potter…"
"I am Petunia Dursley," she said. Her tone was even frostier than mine.
I gave her a brief nod, struggling to be more polite. "I can assure you
that my goal is the same as yours. We must find the boy quickly. Where
and when did you last see your nephew?"
Her face twisted angrily. "The ungrateful brat refused to wait for us in
the spot where I told him, quite plainly, to wait! He knew what the
consequences would be if he chose to wander off. I informed him that he
would have to make his own way home as a punishment if he got himself
lost!"
"I'm a great believer in consequences myself," I said. "Ordinarily. But
your nephew may have gone missing for reasons beyond his control.
There's something after him. Something terrible!"
Her face twisted even more, her lips drawing back from her teeth in a
snarl. Even Dudley stepped back.
"Something terrible from *your* world of freaks and monsters, no doubt!"
Petunia Evans Dursley hissed.
"Wasn't it bad enough to have him dumped on our doorstep without so much
as a by-your-leave? He's been turning our lives upside down ever since!
Years of shame and embarrassment, and strange mishaps, terrifying
accidents, and the boy never showing us a bit of gratitude for the food
we give him or the clothes on his back…"
I thought of Potter's thin body, and the ill-fitting, shabby clothes.
"Am I expected to comb all of London for him now, to save him from the
sort of trouble that ordinary, decent people should never have to face?"
she snarled.
"What can I -a mere Muggle- as YOUR sort call us, possibly do to save
him!?"
More appalled than I'd ever been in my life, I struggled to find my
voice. "You're his aunt, his own flesh and blood…" I said. "All you have
to do is be there! There's a spell…"
"Do NOT," she spat, "speak to me of SPELLS! Dudley and I have already
gotten in the way of enough dreadful and humiliating spells to last us a
lifetime! You're from that… that PLACE he goes to. You help him!"
Turning on her heel, she marched back to where she'd dropped her
packages.
A number of people were staring. This did not improve her mood.
"What happened to your magic, then? Did you lose it?" It was Dudley. The
boy was looking at me curiously.
"I was born this way!" I growled, still staring in disbelief at the
abhorrent creature he had for a mother.
"Do you mean that you're …normal?"
"No! Of course I'm not normal, boy! Didn't I just say so?"
"Because you're one of THEM and you can't do magic?"
"Yes," I said, making an effort to soften my tone a bit. The poor great
lump was obviously simple-minded. "Your Aunt Lily was born into a Muggle
family, wasn't she? Sometimes, though not very often, a wizard and a
witch will have a child who is like me."
Squibs aren't exactly like Muggles, but I wasn't about to attempt to
explain the difference.
"And they're afraid of you? Those kids at Potter's school? Why? What do
you do to them?"
I gave him another glare.
He flinched.
"The Headmaster does not allow me to chain them in the dungeons," I said
gruffly. "I make them scrub, sweep, polish and dust."
"We're not supposed to lock Potter in the cupboard under the stairs any
more," Dudley said. "But Mum's always made him clean a lot of things.
Ever since he was little."
Suddenly, I felt quite ill.
"Come along, Duddy-dear! We have to find a taxi! Let that nasty old
tramp worry about your ungrateful cousin!"
Petunia Dursley, packages in hand, was trying to sound as if she wasn't
still furious. I could hear the rage under her sugary-sweet tone.
"Potter's probably okay," Dudley muttered. "He's stronger than he looks.
Faster too."
"Diddy-Darling! Come along now!"
Dudley spoke to me, under his breath.
"Potter was supposed to wait for us in front of Beau Brummels. It's down
that way." The boy pointed.
"Thank you," I said numbly, holding Mrs. Norris as if I could draw
strength from her.
Dudley was already lumbering away after his mother.
To Be Continued...
Author's Notes:
Ozma and Jelsemium would like to thank everyone who commented on chapter
one of "Squib Summer!"
Shadowycat: Thanks!! -Ozma
Yes, Harry blew it. At least he DID resist the temptation to try and
find the Leaky Cauldron based on the Grey Stalker's directions.
-Jelsemium
emma: Thank you!!-Ozma
Thanks, if you like my style, maybe you'll like my other stories. -
Jelsemium
Darklady: Thank you!! Ozma & Jelsemium
Minnowgirl: Thank you!! - Ozma
Thanks for the kind words and for saying what parts especially worked
for you - Jelsemium
Saphron: Thank you!! From Ozma & Jelsemium
Yes, poor Filch is developing a talent for getting himself into trouble,
isn't he?
Andrea13: Thank you!! But, cliffhangers are only bad and scary in OTHER
people's stories. The "Sphinx, Harpy and Bean-Sidhe walk into a bar..."
line cracked me up!- Ozma
Cliffhangers are my very best friend in the whole world, at least when
I'm writing the story -Jelsemium (Oops, how'd we let that Knockturn
Alley/Nocturne Alley thing slip by?) -Jelsemium
alla: Thank you!! Ozma & Jelsemium
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! -Ozma
Thanks for the kind words and for saying what parts especially worked
for you - Jelsemium
Falco: Thank you!! -Ozma
Thanks, I do like creating alternate villains for Harry to play with.
I'm so nice to him. -Jelsemium
Rabbit-and-Jinx!! Thank you!! Oooh! Screams!! (God, I miss the
screaming... ;-) ) The spell around Harry, Petunia and Dudley drowned
everything else out and give Filch's senses the magical equivalent of
those bright spots you see after someone takes a picture and you can't
see much else for a little while afterwards. -Ozma
Thanks for the comments about the roster of predators, fellow evil
cliff-hanger writer. Tom probably has good protection. Besides, no one
would eat the bartender! How would they get any service? As for just
eating Harry's magic ... it's like that pound of flesh thing. How do you
get it without taking a lot of other stuff? Only in this case, the Grey
Stalker never agreed to NOT take anything else. Thanks for the comment
about the Shepherd's Pie. I could have resisted that, but I didn't see
why I should - Jelsemium
Persephone Kore: Thank you!! The idea of a drunk Nagini is funny, isn't
it? The Grey Stalker is Jelsemium's adaption/invention. -Ozma
Actually, you didn't miss anything. Ozma put the first chapter and the
prologue up at the same time. Thanks for saying what parts worked for
you. The Grey Stalker is mostly my own invention, an adaption from the
ubiquitous Bogeyman/Nursery Bogey/Thing that Parents Threaten Children
With To Make Them Behave. I figured that Quirrel had to have taught
*something* in his class, and the `keep a civil tongue in your head' is
one I've picked up from many folk-tales where the polite daughter gets
rewarded and the rude daughter gets hers --Jelsemium
AET: Thank you!! From Ozma & Jelsemium
Jelsemium: Hi, there, pardner! Look at all these really nice reviews
we've got!! -Ozma
Ozma thanks everyone who reviewed chapter six of "Squib Apprentice."
oO WTH: Thank you!! Hmmm. Filch and Madam Pince? Honestly, I'd never
thought about them before I read your comment. Now, I can see them
bickering and bantering; two strong-willed people who have much in
common and are accustomed to being in charge of their respective
domains. Madam Pince may yet show up in a story of mine...
Alia: Thank you!! I have bits and pieces of ideas for a Marauder-era
Filch story, but no complete plots yet.
Yes, Snape seems like someone who was abused as a child to me, too.
Alchemine: Thank you!! New chapters of "Squib Apprentice" may show up. I
keep thinking that the story's done and then I get more ideas.
Dumbledore's treating Filch like an adult meant even more to Filch
because of his "handicap." Filch had felt as if he'd never truly be
considered `of age' because of his lack of magic.
Shadowycat: Thank you!! Pringle honestly thinks that he's being too soft
with Filch. (Why, Pringle hardly ever beats the clumsy brat!) I love the
idea of the feuding suits of armor too!
No, at that point in time Dumbledore doesn't know that Filch can sense
other people's magic. He may know other Squibs who can do it, but Filch
doesn't discuss his own abilities with anyone until he's much, much
older.
Cloudshape: Thank you!! I'm glad that you found the Filch-section!! I'm
also intrigued by the relationship between just-reformed Death Eater
Severus, and Filch, but have had no complete plot ideas yet. It's not
likely that Filch would know what Snape had been or what he had done.
Filch is perceptive though, and would definitely have sensed the younger
man's bitterness, sorrow and shame.
Saphron: Thank you!! When Filch was young Dumbledore didn't know that
Filch could sense magic. Filch never considered anything he could do to
be an actual "ability."
Deu: Thank you!! Yes, you can translate my stories into German!! I'm
pleased and honored that you'd like to!!
Spark-Chick: Thank you!! Eeeep! The thought of encountering Grindelwald
has poor young Filch cowering under his bed...
Virginia: Thank you!!
A.Lee: Thank you!!
J. Odell: Thank you!! My ideas about Grindelwald are strongly influenced
by Alchemine's excellent stories.
Ariana Deralte: Thank you!! Yes, Filch is stubborn. The idea of being a
Gryffindor has Filch shaking his head in dismay. Gryffindors are so
reckless! Charging into danger without a thought for the consequences!
Which forces more sensible people to go rushing after them to make
certain they don't get themselves killed!
Andrea13: Thank you!! Yes, that was the first time that anyone had ever
treated Filch like an adult. Dumbledore won Filch's respect and trust
forever.
Persephone Kore: Thank you!! Yes, it would be really startling to wear
armor that has its own ideas about how to win a battle...
Ack!! The thought of Filch encountering the Basilisk when he was working
on the Castle's plumbing sends chills down my spine. Poor Filch. He's
luckier than he realizes.
Yes, Filch and Pringle are a good match where temperament is concerned.
I'd imagine that it was very hard for Pringle to find an apprentice that
would work compatably with him. He would have been BRUTAL with any
apprentice who had stronger magic than his own. Filch didn't make the
old man feel inferior or intimidated. In the beginning, Pringle was
insulted that Dippet believed a Squib was capable of doing his job. But
Filch was so nervous and insecure that Pringle eventually ended up
feeling protective, though he never would have admitted it.
Aurendel: Thank you!! Squib Summer is here!
Lyansidde: Thank you!! Yes, I agree that part of the reason that Filch
has survived so long is that no one was aware of what he could do.