Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm just not brilliant like J.K Rowling.
P.S. in response to your review Nixy.Yes Werewolves will be important. I can't tell you how just yet, but they will turn up again.
Chapter 4: Skeleton in the Closet
I turned once again onto the darkened Charad street. It was a bit later this time; I had attempted to wait until nightfall to deliver the potion. However, even though Celia had said that the street was safer in the dark, the thought of the already dark walkways coupled with the night made me uneasier.
So I trudged on, trying my best to ignore the chirpings in the leaves. Though those should have been common place by now. After several minuets worth of walking down the, abandoned, encrusted side walk, I convinced my self that I was becoming used to the old road. Indeed there was very little fear in my step now.
Still, I simply could not shake a small sense of foreboding. The street seemed different from the last time I had come. I stopped once and took a long look at the area that surrounded me. Nothing seemed to have changed on the surface.
The moss and vines still grew through and around the facades of formerly expensive mansions. The grass and lawn still crept up through the side walk. Trees still covered the ground with a canopy of night. But something had changed.
The last time I had walked down Charad Street I had felt a sense of loneliness brought on by the abandonment of the street. Now, however, I had a cold, paranoid thought that I was not alone at all. That some one was following. Closely, silently observing every move I made.
It was at that moment there was a large rustle on the ground near the front gate, which led to mansion #12. I turned quickly behind me. As I did, I could hear feet pattering, running. Once I had turned completely I barely caught a glimpse of what looked to be a leg. A human leg dashing between several over grown hedges to the only area that showed a faint glow of light from the setting sun coming through the trees: The wood behind #13.
I had a very brief daring thought of rushing into the wood after what ever it was, or who ever it was. But my body rebelliously disobeyed my mind and stayed rooted to the over grown gravel beneath my feet.
. My mind was s swarming with questions, which I knew I would never dare to ask. If there was no one on the street besides Celia and her sister, then what was any one doing at #12? The street had after all been evacuated years ago, there were very few who would dare to go near it, let alone enter it. Then again I thought, there certainly would be at least a few very foolish children who would brave entering on a dare by their friends. This was a simple explanation yet it made sense. Yes. That would be it, surely this was some childish prank.
My mind finally reassured, I began to walk on. But as I neared the steps to #13, and was greeted by the two giggling cherubims ('Back again are we?'), I found that my stomach had received another paranoid jolt as a large rustle was heard from the leaves in the tree next to the branch. I was not alone. Something was following me.
Slowly I retrieved my wand from my robes and turned around. Nothing. I looked around either side of the porch, stared as far as I could see, still nothing. Not entirely reassured, I placed my wand under my arm leaving my hand free to lift the door handle, now expecting the scream. However, before I could raise the large old fashioned bar, I heard a slow patter of . not feet. But what sounded rather creepily like bones coming up the stairs.
I turned attempting to pull my wand out while not breaking the cauldron that held the potion, which I had carefully shifted to my left hand. My hands fell numb however when I lifted my eyes. I now knew why the sound following me from the stairs had not sounded like human feet.
The cauldron I was holding dropped with a loud crash as I stared remarkably up at a 6 foot skeleton. Only half decomposed human skin remained rotting on it's face and hands mingled with freshly dug dirt. It's eye sockets were empty and dark but had been made home to long thin worms which ate their way around the holes filled with the slime of the earth.
I took two frightened steps backward causing myself to trip on the steps falling backward into a bush. The thorns from a twig stung my right cheek as the skeleton followed me coming dangerously closer to the bush with every step. My wand had been left on the front steps along with the now useless cauldron. The bush prevented me from backing away further as the skeleton neared me. Closer than ever now, it raised a large rotting hand, mixed with human flesh, bone, and earth to my throat as I gasped for breath.
My mind had become paralyzed. There was nothing left to do now. The skeleton was bending nearer now. Coming closer with every breath I took. Closer.closer.closer
'riddikulus' A voice shouted from the front porch
The door to the mansion had creaked open and the skeleton turned from me to the front door. It shifted into a large ball of light before fading into vapor.
'Mr. Weasly? Are you all right?' Celia asked wearing a look of sincere concern as she rushed down the front steps. 'I'm fine' I answered as steadily as I could, rubbing the arm on which I had fallen. She most certainly thought me a coward now. A bogart. How could I have behaved so foolishly?
Celia gave me her hand and pulled me up from the bush.
'That cut looks bad. If you'll come inside I can clean it up for you' She said looking at the scar on my cheek. It was fairly painful. I nodded and followed her up the front steps.
'Repairo' She said pointing her wand at the spilled potion as we reached the steps of the porch. The cauldron was immediately filled as it had been before it had fallen. Celia bent down on the fourth step, picked up my wand and handed it back to me.
'Thank you' I said rather crisply, still slightly embarrassed by the scene I had made. She smiled and continued leading the way into the mansion.
I walked into the house noticing immediately that not a great deal of change had taken place there. The moth eaten couch was still in place in the front living room. If nothing else is looked older and more frayed then it had the last time I had seen it. The coffee table looked as if it had been scratched in several places. The only difference to the living room seemed to be that an added portrait now hung on the wall above the small fireplace. This showed a fairly young woman, who was flipping the pages of an abnormally large book.
She had light brown hair and grey eyes that looked remarkably similar to Celia's.
'My mother.' Celia said apparently aware that my attention had turned to the portrait. 'She died when I was very young.'
'I'm sorry.' I said. I always felt slightly awkward about things like this. Always completely unsure of what to say. I personally had never known anyone who had died.
Celia seemed to take it well however. She shrugged her shoulders slightly looking from the portrait back to me.
'I never knew her.' She said simply. She came to herself slightly and continued back to the kitchen, which still sported the small card table and teakettle.
'Now about that cut.' She said and walked over to the cupboard above the sink.
'If you don't mind my asking, miss Oswald, what exactly was a Bogart doing on a disserted street in broad day light?' I asked fairly. Though I was not usually one to pry into such affairs, I had a right to know what a boggart was doing in such a large space. Normally they rarely nested outside of cupboards or closets.
'I'm afraid we get quite a few of them around here.' Celia said with a slightly apologetic tone as she pulled down a large bottle of Essence of Murlap from the cupboard.
' I suppose that the street is so dark, they feel more comfortable here when they can not find smaller accommodations. Here.' She said pouring the essence of murlap onto a towel and placing it gently onto my right cheek. I gave a slight grimace at the sting.
'And by the way, it is all right to call me Celia. It's less formal that way at least.' She said.
'All right then.Celia. Then you can call me Percy' I said somewhat awkwardly. She nodded but did not say anything. I could see her face becoming slightly pinker as she took her hand off the towel 'It'll be all right in a few minuets.' She said as she went to pour another cup of tea from the kettle.
' So I suppose the Boggarts are the reason that the street is not particularly safe during the day light?' I asked. She turned back to me wearing an apprehensive look before saying unconvincingly 'Oh, yes.' She walked back to the table and sat down in the chair opposite me.
'By the way, how are things at the ministry?' She said rather quickly. 'I know work can't be easy what with the business about hogwarts, and those death eaters.'
'I'm afraid it's been rather dreadful since April.' I answered, glad that at last I was the one with information.
'The minister has been frantic, what with those prisoners running about. The wizengammot has become positively paranoid about the whole thing. Proposing bills left and right, some of them absolutely absurd. Honestly, it's a good thing the minister has such a devoted staff, other wise I'm not sure that he'd be able to handle the pressure.' I straightened myself as I added the last part. I was hoping to at least slightly redeem myself in Celia's eyes after the catastrophe with the boggart.
'Poor man,' Celia said as she sipped her tea. 'I've always had a great deal of respect for him.' She muttered the last part almost to herself. As her eyes began to lose focus
'Yes. He is an extraordinary man.' I said attempting to bring the conversation back on track. 'And when you consider the sort of things they're proposing now. The latest was some nonsense about werewolf restrictions-'
'-What werewolf restrictions?' Celia asked suddenly. She was now eying me with a strange anticipation. I could not think why. I was taken aback, but I still answered her, however hesitantly.
'A woman named Emma Ducarless, proposed a bill about executing non- registered werewolves. It was highly controversial of course.'
'Of course.' Celia said trying and failing to sound as if this was a piece of information that did not particularly matter.
'Did the bill pass or not?' She asked, she had pulled her face into a look of polite interest, but I couldn't help noticing that her hand shook as she took another sip of her tea.
'It was a split decision.' I answered. 'They've postponed voting until next month.'
'hmm.' She said as she set her cup down again. There was a moment's silence before Celia said.
'Here, let me check on that cut again.' She walked over to me and lifted the towel from my face. She placed a soft hand on my cheek making sure that the cut had stopped bleeding. Suddenly the stinging of the cut seemed to have completely disappeared
'Yes, that is better. I think you'll be all right for you to go now.' She said glancing out the window. 'It's dark enough now.' A crash was heard from the upstairs wing. 'And Alieanna will need her medicine.'
I followed Celia to the front door, glancing once more at the portrait of her mother who now seemed to be fast asleep on the side of her chair.
'Thank you again for the medicine Mr.- Percy' She corrected herself rather awkwardly. I smiled at her.
'A pleasure as always.Celia.' I said she nodded and closed the door as I began once again to descend the steps more confused then I had ever been in my life.
Why did Celia seem so taken back at the mention of that ministry bill? I began to search in my head for possible explanations, each one more unlikely than the next. Besides that, what else besides Bogarts resided on this street? As I turned out of Charad Street it seemed to me that there was more than a bogart skeleton hidden in the closet #13.
P.S. in response to your review Nixy.Yes Werewolves will be important. I can't tell you how just yet, but they will turn up again.
Chapter 4: Skeleton in the Closet
I turned once again onto the darkened Charad street. It was a bit later this time; I had attempted to wait until nightfall to deliver the potion. However, even though Celia had said that the street was safer in the dark, the thought of the already dark walkways coupled with the night made me uneasier.
So I trudged on, trying my best to ignore the chirpings in the leaves. Though those should have been common place by now. After several minuets worth of walking down the, abandoned, encrusted side walk, I convinced my self that I was becoming used to the old road. Indeed there was very little fear in my step now.
Still, I simply could not shake a small sense of foreboding. The street seemed different from the last time I had come. I stopped once and took a long look at the area that surrounded me. Nothing seemed to have changed on the surface.
The moss and vines still grew through and around the facades of formerly expensive mansions. The grass and lawn still crept up through the side walk. Trees still covered the ground with a canopy of night. But something had changed.
The last time I had walked down Charad Street I had felt a sense of loneliness brought on by the abandonment of the street. Now, however, I had a cold, paranoid thought that I was not alone at all. That some one was following. Closely, silently observing every move I made.
It was at that moment there was a large rustle on the ground near the front gate, which led to mansion #12. I turned quickly behind me. As I did, I could hear feet pattering, running. Once I had turned completely I barely caught a glimpse of what looked to be a leg. A human leg dashing between several over grown hedges to the only area that showed a faint glow of light from the setting sun coming through the trees: The wood behind #13.
I had a very brief daring thought of rushing into the wood after what ever it was, or who ever it was. But my body rebelliously disobeyed my mind and stayed rooted to the over grown gravel beneath my feet.
. My mind was s swarming with questions, which I knew I would never dare to ask. If there was no one on the street besides Celia and her sister, then what was any one doing at #12? The street had after all been evacuated years ago, there were very few who would dare to go near it, let alone enter it. Then again I thought, there certainly would be at least a few very foolish children who would brave entering on a dare by their friends. This was a simple explanation yet it made sense. Yes. That would be it, surely this was some childish prank.
My mind finally reassured, I began to walk on. But as I neared the steps to #13, and was greeted by the two giggling cherubims ('Back again are we?'), I found that my stomach had received another paranoid jolt as a large rustle was heard from the leaves in the tree next to the branch. I was not alone. Something was following me.
Slowly I retrieved my wand from my robes and turned around. Nothing. I looked around either side of the porch, stared as far as I could see, still nothing. Not entirely reassured, I placed my wand under my arm leaving my hand free to lift the door handle, now expecting the scream. However, before I could raise the large old fashioned bar, I heard a slow patter of . not feet. But what sounded rather creepily like bones coming up the stairs.
I turned attempting to pull my wand out while not breaking the cauldron that held the potion, which I had carefully shifted to my left hand. My hands fell numb however when I lifted my eyes. I now knew why the sound following me from the stairs had not sounded like human feet.
The cauldron I was holding dropped with a loud crash as I stared remarkably up at a 6 foot skeleton. Only half decomposed human skin remained rotting on it's face and hands mingled with freshly dug dirt. It's eye sockets were empty and dark but had been made home to long thin worms which ate their way around the holes filled with the slime of the earth.
I took two frightened steps backward causing myself to trip on the steps falling backward into a bush. The thorns from a twig stung my right cheek as the skeleton followed me coming dangerously closer to the bush with every step. My wand had been left on the front steps along with the now useless cauldron. The bush prevented me from backing away further as the skeleton neared me. Closer than ever now, it raised a large rotting hand, mixed with human flesh, bone, and earth to my throat as I gasped for breath.
My mind had become paralyzed. There was nothing left to do now. The skeleton was bending nearer now. Coming closer with every breath I took. Closer.closer.closer
'riddikulus' A voice shouted from the front porch
The door to the mansion had creaked open and the skeleton turned from me to the front door. It shifted into a large ball of light before fading into vapor.
'Mr. Weasly? Are you all right?' Celia asked wearing a look of sincere concern as she rushed down the front steps. 'I'm fine' I answered as steadily as I could, rubbing the arm on which I had fallen. She most certainly thought me a coward now. A bogart. How could I have behaved so foolishly?
Celia gave me her hand and pulled me up from the bush.
'That cut looks bad. If you'll come inside I can clean it up for you' She said looking at the scar on my cheek. It was fairly painful. I nodded and followed her up the front steps.
'Repairo' She said pointing her wand at the spilled potion as we reached the steps of the porch. The cauldron was immediately filled as it had been before it had fallen. Celia bent down on the fourth step, picked up my wand and handed it back to me.
'Thank you' I said rather crisply, still slightly embarrassed by the scene I had made. She smiled and continued leading the way into the mansion.
I walked into the house noticing immediately that not a great deal of change had taken place there. The moth eaten couch was still in place in the front living room. If nothing else is looked older and more frayed then it had the last time I had seen it. The coffee table looked as if it had been scratched in several places. The only difference to the living room seemed to be that an added portrait now hung on the wall above the small fireplace. This showed a fairly young woman, who was flipping the pages of an abnormally large book.
She had light brown hair and grey eyes that looked remarkably similar to Celia's.
'My mother.' Celia said apparently aware that my attention had turned to the portrait. 'She died when I was very young.'
'I'm sorry.' I said. I always felt slightly awkward about things like this. Always completely unsure of what to say. I personally had never known anyone who had died.
Celia seemed to take it well however. She shrugged her shoulders slightly looking from the portrait back to me.
'I never knew her.' She said simply. She came to herself slightly and continued back to the kitchen, which still sported the small card table and teakettle.
'Now about that cut.' She said and walked over to the cupboard above the sink.
'If you don't mind my asking, miss Oswald, what exactly was a Bogart doing on a disserted street in broad day light?' I asked fairly. Though I was not usually one to pry into such affairs, I had a right to know what a boggart was doing in such a large space. Normally they rarely nested outside of cupboards or closets.
'I'm afraid we get quite a few of them around here.' Celia said with a slightly apologetic tone as she pulled down a large bottle of Essence of Murlap from the cupboard.
' I suppose that the street is so dark, they feel more comfortable here when they can not find smaller accommodations. Here.' She said pouring the essence of murlap onto a towel and placing it gently onto my right cheek. I gave a slight grimace at the sting.
'And by the way, it is all right to call me Celia. It's less formal that way at least.' She said.
'All right then.Celia. Then you can call me Percy' I said somewhat awkwardly. She nodded but did not say anything. I could see her face becoming slightly pinker as she took her hand off the towel 'It'll be all right in a few minuets.' She said as she went to pour another cup of tea from the kettle.
' So I suppose the Boggarts are the reason that the street is not particularly safe during the day light?' I asked. She turned back to me wearing an apprehensive look before saying unconvincingly 'Oh, yes.' She walked back to the table and sat down in the chair opposite me.
'By the way, how are things at the ministry?' She said rather quickly. 'I know work can't be easy what with the business about hogwarts, and those death eaters.'
'I'm afraid it's been rather dreadful since April.' I answered, glad that at last I was the one with information.
'The minister has been frantic, what with those prisoners running about. The wizengammot has become positively paranoid about the whole thing. Proposing bills left and right, some of them absolutely absurd. Honestly, it's a good thing the minister has such a devoted staff, other wise I'm not sure that he'd be able to handle the pressure.' I straightened myself as I added the last part. I was hoping to at least slightly redeem myself in Celia's eyes after the catastrophe with the boggart.
'Poor man,' Celia said as she sipped her tea. 'I've always had a great deal of respect for him.' She muttered the last part almost to herself. As her eyes began to lose focus
'Yes. He is an extraordinary man.' I said attempting to bring the conversation back on track. 'And when you consider the sort of things they're proposing now. The latest was some nonsense about werewolf restrictions-'
'-What werewolf restrictions?' Celia asked suddenly. She was now eying me with a strange anticipation. I could not think why. I was taken aback, but I still answered her, however hesitantly.
'A woman named Emma Ducarless, proposed a bill about executing non- registered werewolves. It was highly controversial of course.'
'Of course.' Celia said trying and failing to sound as if this was a piece of information that did not particularly matter.
'Did the bill pass or not?' She asked, she had pulled her face into a look of polite interest, but I couldn't help noticing that her hand shook as she took another sip of her tea.
'It was a split decision.' I answered. 'They've postponed voting until next month.'
'hmm.' She said as she set her cup down again. There was a moment's silence before Celia said.
'Here, let me check on that cut again.' She walked over to me and lifted the towel from my face. She placed a soft hand on my cheek making sure that the cut had stopped bleeding. Suddenly the stinging of the cut seemed to have completely disappeared
'Yes, that is better. I think you'll be all right for you to go now.' She said glancing out the window. 'It's dark enough now.' A crash was heard from the upstairs wing. 'And Alieanna will need her medicine.'
I followed Celia to the front door, glancing once more at the portrait of her mother who now seemed to be fast asleep on the side of her chair.
'Thank you again for the medicine Mr.- Percy' She corrected herself rather awkwardly. I smiled at her.
'A pleasure as always.Celia.' I said she nodded and closed the door as I began once again to descend the steps more confused then I had ever been in my life.
Why did Celia seem so taken back at the mention of that ministry bill? I began to search in my head for possible explanations, each one more unlikely than the next. Besides that, what else besides Bogarts resided on this street? As I turned out of Charad Street it seemed to me that there was more than a bogart skeleton hidden in the closet #13.
